EndGameNYC

I too was a parentified child, and the child I was tasked with caring for was my mother. She worked full-time throughout her life, and the strain of managing a marriage and raising five children -- not to mention dealing with her abusive childhood -- was visible. I made tea and snacks for her, sometimes did the laundry and ironed my father's dress shirts, and, even as a child, tried to comfort her when she was down. I came to believe that if she were okay, then I would be okay too. My world was shaken when she was ill or simply not feeling well. And I feared that she'd die before I got what I needed from her. As I commented in my previous post, I carried these dynamics into my adult relationships with unfortunate outcomes.

Acting as I thought an adult might act during my childhood did not prepare me for adulthood and only stunted my personal growth and maturity. My version of being an adult was contaminated by being a parentified child. I was overly stern and judgmental. I was put off by age-appropriate behaviors in children and adolescents, and I had zero tolerance for other adults who indulged themselves in childish behaviors. I allowed myself to be held hostage by other people's needs, and I had extreme difficulty in both joining with and detaching from other people. My only surprise was that I didn't end up interpersonally and socially disabled. And the booze always made this go away, just like peek-a-boo, or hiding under the covers seemed to do when I was a very young child.

I was tired of acting as an adult when I finally reached an age when I was "supposed to" be one. I wanted my adult responsibilities to go away or, even better, have someone else take care of them. In terms of taking responsibility in my relationships, my thinking was "I've already done this!" I felt that, by having taken care of my mother, I was entitled to something better, something easier, something completely self-indulgent. But the world didn't cooperate so, among other things, I used booze to escape.