"Well Amy, based on what you have told me, and on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being no dysfunction, which doesn't exist by the way, and 10 being the craziest I've ever seen in all the work I've done as a therapist, I've have to rate your family a 8 or 9. Probably a 9, well I'll say an 8 because I've never actually met any of them. Yep an 8."An 8? I was blown away. An 8! My family? There was no physical or sexual abuse in my family. There was no constant threat of violence. My parents aren't even divorced! There wasn't even a family death until my grandmother 3 years ago. An 8! I remember sitting there in shock.
"The average family is probably a 3 or a 4. Everyone has some dysfunction. The families of addicts usually range from 5 to 7."All the boys in my family went on missions. Every adult is temple worthy and endowed. We all attend church regularly. There hasn't been a single year that we haven't all gotten together for some holiday or event. I adore my nephews. They are incredible young men and my niece is amazing! How in the world could we be an 8??
And then something happens, like the drama that has been unfolding over the past few weeks. As things play out and the inner conflict arises about what I should do and who I am and my responsibilities, I very quickly get wrapped back up in the crazy making that is my family. The familiar dialog starts.... They all think this is normal. They all seem to be OK with what is happening. No one else seems to think there is anything wrong. All of these thoughts lead to the same conclusion. This must be normal and I'm the crazy one.
That is how I got to where I am. I've known the whole time, from the beginning of my addition that what I was doing was wrong, addictive, and would not get me where I wanted to go. However, I also felt like I was the crazy one and everyone else was normal. There was no hope I could ever be normal, and so I made the choices I did.
"Amy, your life was really the perfect storm. You chose what you did because you had very limited options."That doesn't make it right, but it is nice to feel some validation about your choices in life.
The point of this rambling is to remind myself that I am not crazy. That what has been going on and the pressure of my family is not normal. I am not responsible for them. I do not have to do what they ask or demand. My life is not their life, my things are not their things, they do not get full access to me just because they are my family. I do not have to fix their lives, even if they ask me to. If my mom chooses to spend Thanksgiving alone, it is not my fault, no matter what anyone says. I am not responsible to do an intervention with my mom. I have been in recovery for nearly 18 months and am making significant progress. I know what boundaries are and how important they are in my life.
I grew up feeling crazy. I have, for my entire life, felt like I didn't fit in. I have felt desperately lonely, left out and broken. Today, however, I recognize that I was a lost little girl, trying to adapt to what was going on around her. I was OK. I am OK. And what they are doing and how they live is not how I am going to live or how I want to be. I am grateful that I can make that choice today.
Today, I choose to be normal.
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