Toxic Parents by Susan Forward Read Free Book Online

about emotionally absent parents. Physical absence creates its own set of problems.
    I first met Ken, 22, in a hospital group for young-adult substance abusers. He was a thin, black-haired young man with piercing dark eyes. It was obvious in our first group meeting that he was enormously intelligent and articulate, but he was also very self-deprecating. He had trouble sitting still for the full ninety minutes; he was a bundle of nerves. I asked him to stay after group to tell me a little about himself. Mistrusting my motives, he played the tough, street-smart hustler, but after a few minutes he began to see that I had no ulterior motive, that I was genuinely interested in easing his pain, and he softened as he spoke to me.
I always hated school and I didn’t know what the hell else to do so I enlisted in the army when I was sixteen. That’s where I got fucked up on drugs. I was always a fuck-up anyway.
    I asked what his parents thought of his enlistment.
It was just my mom and me. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but I think she was glad to get rid of me. I was always getting into trouble and making her life miserable. She was a real pushover. She let me do what I wanted no matter what.
    I asked him where his father had been during this period.
My folks got divorced when I was eight. Mom really got bent out of shape from it. I always thought my dad was hip, you know? He always did “dad things” with me. We’d watch sports together on television, and he’d even take me to a game once in a while. Man, that was great! The day he moved out, I cried my fucking eyes out. He told me nothing was going to change, that he’d still come over and watch TV with me, and he’d see me every Sunday and we’d still be pals. I believed him; I was such a dork. For the first few months, I did see him a lot . . . but then it was once every month . . . then once every two months . . . then practically never. A couple of times I called him up, and he told me he was really busy. About a year after he left, my mom told me that he’d married some woman with three kids and moved out of state. It was hard for me to get it, that he had a new family now. I guess he liked them better, because he sure forgot about me in a hurry.
    “T HIS T IME I T’S G OING TO B E D IFFERENT ”
    Ken’s tough-guy facade was crumbling fast. He was clearly uneasy about this talk of his father. I asked about the last time he’d seen his father.
It was when I was fifteen, and it was a big mistake. I got sick of just Christmas cards, so I decided I was gonna surprise him. Man, was I excited. I hitched all the way there—fourteen hours. When I got there . . . I guess I expected some big welcome. I mean he was friendly, but it was no big deal. After a while I started to feel really shitty. It was like we were total strangers. He was falling all over himself with these little kids, and I just sat there feeling like a complete asshole. Man, did I get loaded after I left his house that night. I still think about him a lot. I sure as shit wouldn’t want him to know I was here. As soon as I get out of here, I’m gonna try again. This time it’s gonna be different. . . it’s gonna be man-to-man.
    When Ken’s father abandoned his young son, he left a deep void in the boy’s life. Ken was crushed. He tried to cope by acting out his anger both at school and at home. In a sense he was calling out to his father, as if his need for discipline might draw his father back. But Ken’s father seemed unwilling to heed the call.
    In the face of overwhelming evidence that his father did not want to be a part of his life anymore, Ken continued to hold on to the dream that somehow he could win back his father’s love. In the past, his hope had set him up for severe disappointment, to which he’d react by turning to drugs. I told him I was concerned that this chain of events would continue to dominate his adult life unless we worked together to break the