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Stephen Hunt

I'm On A Stephen.Hunt, Pt.5 Estrangement

It's not easy to explain how something like estrangement starts.

The best I can come up with is it started by me being fed up. I was fed up with being controlled. I was fed up with manipulation. I was fed up with not having a grip on my life.


After my dad passed away, even years after, there was this constant pressure to tend to my mom. To take care of her. Tend to her emotions. Tend to her needs. If she cried for help, I had to go running. If she said something was important, it had to be important to me. On top of that, anything I said or believed was "wrong" or "misunderstood". I could never be right with her and it was exhausting.


Additionally, themes from my childhood continued. I was being "selfish", a "know it all", "inconsiderate" of everyone in the family. I just couldn't be right with her. As I continued to dive into understanding narcissism, I got scared. Fearful of her, I went no contact. I felt like it was the only way. She wouldn't leave me alone. She wouldn't listen to me. If I asked for space, she'd barely give it to me, then she'd demand something of me. My life was suffering, my job was suffering, my schooling was suffering, my marriage was suffering. So I blocked her, cut as many lines of communication as I could, and stopped responding.


After I did that, I immediately started to feel the rest of my family slip away. I tried to explain what I was doing to my siblings and why, in hopes that they'd understand, but that's not what happened. I told them I didn't want this to affect our relationship, but it did.


Instead, I was met with e-mails (I couldn't block those) from my mother telling me how hurt everybody is. How mad they are at me and how they blame me for everything she's doing to them as a result of this. At the same time, she told me she was trying to convince them not to take sides, but they were. They were choosing her. They're ashamed of me.


I tried to talk to them, and we sort of did, but I was often left confused. I felt them distance themselves. And they seldom showed understanding. If they did, it was immediately followed by how what I did to mom was wrong. I was wrong.


This was extremely disorienting. I felt like they all hated me and that I couldn't do anything right. I felt like giving myself space was bad and that I was self-centered for doing so. I had betrayed everyone. I had no right to my own time.


But it was hard for me to accept what was happening. *maybe i can still try with my siblings. maybe they just need time, then they will understand. maybe they need to cool off. i'm sure i'll be able to talk to them again. i'm sure they'll eventually see what i'm seeing. mom is abusive. they'll get it.*


As all of this was happening, I found my therapist and started going. I needed to make sense of everything. I needed to understand what I was experiencing.


He was very helpful in doing so.

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