[*Anya*]

I know this is a derail but I must say this: with all kindness and respect, people that do not have severely toxic parents do not understand.

I know each situation is different but all abusive and toxic parents are the same in the way that they destroy your soul.

I have had to deal with a seriously dysfunctional and damaging mother (and father, too) for my whole life.

People have said to me: "But she is your mother". Yes, she is. Very sadly, she is.

They have said: "You are going to feel bad when she dies if you don't even try".

Yes and I have felt badly my entire life.

My last little, tiny kernel of hope for a real, loving mother; will die with her.

I spent 5 years in therapy, starting at age 21, because I did not want to abuse/hurt/harm my own children if I did not learn how to be different than my mother.

I would sit in therapy and cry my heart out, asking repeatedly, "But why doesn't she love me?"

My therapist, like a broken record, would say, "Because she can't".

It took me the whole 5 years to get to the point of acceptance of this simple fact and to believe that I would be a different mother with my children than the one I was born to.

And I was.

I tried multiple times to connect with her (and my father) over the years, but either her damaging criticism of me or the repeated litany of all of the grudges she carried and never let go, would be repeated, no matter what I tried to talk about or how I attempted to get the conversation on a positive track:

"You never practiced the piano. We got you lessons and you just wouldn't do it. The boys play beautifully now because they practiced." This was always said to guests when they would walk in the house: "They all had lessons but only the boys stuck with it. Anya quit". I would always feel ashamed and embarrassed as though a I had done something terribly wrong.

"Your grades could have been much better , you do have a brain, you just never used it. Note- I got C's, D's and F's in high school due to being so beaten down mentally and physically.

In college-I had an almost a straight A average. I got an award in nursing school for being the best student- what did mom and dad say: "See, we knew you could do it. We just never understood why you never even tried".

The last time I was at my parents, probably 6 years ago, before dad broke his hip and they moved into assisted living; my father gave me all of my report cards from second grade through 12th. They also had an IQ test I don't recall ever taking.

Their point? To show me how poorly I did in school and to show me how smart I was so they could again dive into my underachievement history.

To what end? To what purpose?

My perspective on that is that by making me the focus of all of their anger (frequently at each other) they never had to think about themselves as long as I was the punching bag (literally and metaphorically).

Somehow, the worse I felt, the more self-righteous they felt. They would feel better when I felt worse.

I gathered everything up that day, said I have to go now and walked out.

After that, they stopped talking to me again and I said: enough.

I honor all of you for being good sons, daughters, spouses, lovers and caring for parents and loved ones the way that you do. I read this thread even though it makes me sad.

I wish that I had parents (now just my mom. Dad died last August. I was not allowed to go to the funeral) that I could help.

It just is not the way that it is.

I want to close by saying that my youngest daughter told me yesterday that she and her boyfriend just got approved for a house in LA. She said to me: "Mom it has a downstairs apartment. We got it so that when you get to where you need help, you can come live with us".

I still cry with happiness to even write it.

Some parents are so toxic, it is best to avoid them like the plague that they are. Of course, frequently it was not my healthy choice to avoid them.

My coming out in 1978 earned me a 15- year no-talking ban. It actually was the beginning of putting together the crumbs of insight that I had learned in therapy. Those 15 years were a blessing, in retrospect.