Trauma Resurfaces When an Abusive Parent Approaches Death

Source: janrye / Pixabay

Jim was 14 when he realized he was gay. Growing up in rural Nebraska in the mid 1980s, he had limited examples of gay people—and the few that did exist were often riddled with negative stereotypes and frequently the subject of his town's jokes and ridicule.

Listening to his preacher every Sunday, he was filled with messages about how his urges and thoughts were wrong. The messages were always about sinning, reassuring him of how unwelcome his existence was. The AIDS epidemic was on the news every night and he listened to those around him, making fun and saying cruel things.

He tried to come out a couple times, testing the waters by bringing up gay people on the news or in movies. His father was cruel and abusive, making it clear that he would rather have a son who was dead than a son who would embarrass him by living as a gay man. It was clear he was not welcome as who he was inside. So he hid it until he was able to leave.

He left as soon as he could afford the gas money to drive straight across the country to the bright lights of Hollywood California. For the first time, he was able to live freely as he was. He met a man, fell in love, and thought he had moved on and found his own chosen family. Although you can never truly move on from rejection by a parent, he felt he had found his space.

Decades later, he received a letter saying that his father was dying of cancer. The family was requesting him to come home immediately to join them at his time of dying. The inner feeling of rejection and abandonment flooded him. The man who had made it clear that he was no longer welcome as his son was now on his death bed. "He needs you," his sister's words began, penned out in her familiar handwriting. "You need to put your issues aside and return home— your family needs you."

Not surprisingly, the letter continued with the assumption that he was expected to follow his family duty and return home. And, also unsurprisingly, the assumption that he would be coming home alone.

"So not only am I expected to ignore the rejection and abandonment I experienced, but I am also expected to again pretend that I am not gay?" He sat on my couch, the rhetorical question hanging in the air.

Every day, people are rejected by those who are supposed to love them and protect them. In my work with survivors of family trauma, many of whom are Queer/LGBTQ, I like to think that things are changing, and that fewer people are rejected nowadays simply for being who they are. But, the endless inquiries I receive tell me otherwise.

Like Jim, numerous clients I work with have experienced abandonment by a parent or caregiver. Though the circumstances leading to abandonment vary, the outcome is consistent: enduring and profound pain. As these individuals grow older, they confront a fresh wave of trauma as they grapple with the mortality of those who once turned them away. Their trauma becomes even more complex and challenging when they are expected to step into a caregiving role for the parent who was absent during their own time of need. This expectation can reopen old wounds and trigger feelings of resentment, anger, and confusion. Survivors may grapple with conflicting emotions, torn between societal expectations to care for aging parents and their own unresolved trauma and pain. Being forced to provide care for the very person who failed to provide them with love, support, and protection when they needed it can feel like a betrayal of their own needs and boundaries.

Moreover, the caregiving role may dredge up past memories and traumas, resurfacing feelings of abandonment and inadequacy. Survivors may struggle with feelings of guilt and obligation, wrestling with the question of whether they owe anything to a parent who was absent when they needed them most. This internal conflict can lead to significant emotional distress and strain on the survivor's mental health and well-being.

"Put your differences aside," Jim's sister had written, as if the two of them had simply disagreed about what sports team should dominate that year. Extended family, often those who were not the target of rejection, often cast doubt on the experiences of the survivor by assigning the same responsibility to the one who was abandoned as the one who abandoned. His sister was not only saying "your needs and feelings don't matter," but she was also saying "your father's are more important."

Family Dynamics Essential Reads

What to Say to Someone Who Is Experiencing Estrangement

10 Things to Know About Grandparenting From a Distance

Not all of my clients have the same opinion of what to do during these times, and that is okay. Every individual must make their own decision of how to navigate estranged family relationships; this is not a decision I can make for them. Instead, I provide empathy, warmth, and an open ear that is free of judgment for whatever they do decide.

In the end, Jim chose to go to his father's bedside. But it was not an easy choice. We processed the experience for many sessions upon his return. Jim is just one example of many who deal with abandonment from their parents every day. Many are rejected by a parent and denied the love and support they need. And often this trauma is compounded when they are expected to then come to that parent's aid in their later years, having to be there for the one who was not there for them.

It is essential for survivors of abandonment trauma to prioritize their own self-care and boundaries while navigating the complexities of the caregiving role, seeking support from therapists, support groups, and loved ones to process their emotions and make decisions that align with their own needs and values.

If you are looking for support healing from family violence or parental abandonment, seek the support of a licensed therapist who understands family dynamics and family trauma.

To find a therapist, visit the Psychology Today Therapy Directory.