I grew up with crazy...but, we called it normal

I was chatting with a friend of mine last night. She lived with an out of control addict for 20+ years. Her kids got into recovery when they were 8 and 10. For years they begged for her to leave the "bastard". After more than 10 years of recovery my friend was finally strong enough to get a divorce. By then the kids were grown. Now the grown kids; also known as Adult Children, the same kids that could see the dysfunction in their parents, are recreating their early childhood patterns in their adult lives. Both of the "kids" married alcoholics.

They had already walked through that pain and trauma of childhood and survived, why would they choose all of that suffering for themselves?

For me, it's so much easier to see someone else's crazy behavior than it is to see mine. I don't even realize what I do. If I could have seen my crazy behavior from outside the fog of emotion and reaction of the moment, I am sure I was the one that looked totally nuts. I remember having a conversation with a friend about my mom's death and I smiled at an inappropriate time - a signal that I was getting significance from my mom's murder - and I didn't realize I had smiled. I was so disconnected from my emotions that it took the guidance of a friend to know that about myself.

I grew up with crazy and recreated crazy as an adult. I watched my parents fight and get divorced and then my mother's murder. My dad was a narcissist - totally unaware of anyone's needs but his own - so I modeled that "love" by marrying addicts. When I was in my early 30s I was in an abusive relationship. It was a power struggle just like my parent's rocky relationship. I remember thinking - clear as day - this is the man that will kill me. Just like it was having lunch on Friday. I expected to live - and die - the same life of my parents.

I read about this goose that was separated from it's mom while it was just an egg. A kind helpful human incubated the egg and when the chick was born it imprinted on the person. It called the person "mom". That goose ALWAYS walked upright like a person vs waddling like a goose. That was it's model for the world and it didn't even realize that it's not "supposed" to walk that way. That's how I was before I got into recovery, I didn't even know that love doesn't hurt, being hit or called names or stony silence is abuse, or that God's wish for me is perfect happiness.