Hi, I'm new here, and this is my first time really opening up and writing about any of this. I posted this on another forum first but then saw one specifically for substance abuse, so I'm posting it here too. I honestly don't even know where to start, but here goes nothing. Growing up, my life was never easy. Both of my parents struggled with drug addiction, and to be completely frank, I was more of a parent to them than they ever were to me. My mom was selfish, abusive, and mentally unstable. My dad was just along for the ride. He followed my mom's lead, and I genuinely believe I was more emotionally mature at 16 than he ever was in his entire life. I had a garbage childhood. I never knew whether there would be food in the house or if we'd even have electricity. There was no stability, no security, and very little happiness. My parents made my life an absolute living hell. I can probably count on one hand the number of genuinely happy memories I have with them. They never taught me how to navigate life. They never prepared me for adulthood or gave me the guidance and support a child deserves. Everything I am today, everything I've accomplished, and everything I've built has been entirely through my own determination. The only thing my parents really left me with was severe trauma. And yet, despite all of that, I still love them. I lost both of my parents in my twenties. My mom died from an overdose when I was 22, and my dad passed away when I was 25 after years of substance abuse. And I grieve them. I grieve them even after everything they put me through. Even after all the pain, neglect, and abuse, I still miss them. Then, two years ago, I lost my grandma. She was the only real mother figure I ever had. Losing her felt like losing the last piece of family I had left. And ever since then, I've felt so incredibly lost. There's something I struggle with that I feel almost ashamed to admit. I'm jealous. So unbelievably jealous. I see mothers and daughters going shopping together, having lunch, laughing, calling each other just to talk, and I feel this overwhelming sadness that sometimes turns into anger. Sometimes I even hate seeing it. Not because those people have done anything wrong, but because I can't understand why I never got to have that. Why couldn't I have a mom who loved me the way a mother is supposed to? Why couldn't I have parents I could depend on? Why did I have to spend my childhood surviving instead of just being a kid? And why did I have to lose them before I ever got the chance to have a better relationship with them? It's not fair. I hate feeling bitter. I hate the jealousy, and I hate that something as beautiful as a healthy mother-daughter relationship can make me feel so angry and heartbroken. I even find myself feeling jealous of my own daughter sometimes, and that is an incredibly difficult thing to admit. I love my daughter more than words could ever explain, and I would never want her to experience the childhood I had. But sometimes, watching her grow up with loving, involved parents makes me painfully aware of everything I missed out on. As a mother myself, I understand my own childhood even less. I look at my children, and I cannot imagine treating them the way my parents treated me. I cannot imagine making them feel unwanted, unsafe, or unloved. I don't understand how my mother could look at her own child and treat her the way she treated me. I have a wonderful husband and two beautiful children, and I know how lucky I am to have the family we've created together. But there's still this enormous emptiness inside me. I don't have a mom to call when life gets overwhelming. I don't have a dad to ask for advice. I don't have parents to call on Mother's Day or Father's Day. I don't have a grandma to visit, or that older, comforting presence to turn to when I just need someone to tell me everything is going to be okay. There are no parents to invite over for Sunday dinners. No grandparents to spend Thanksgiving or Christmas with. No one to call when I need someone older and wiser to help me figure out how to be an adult. And I know that might sound strange because I have my husband and children, but having a family of your own doesn't erase the pain of not having the family you came from. I feel like an orphan, even as a grown woman. And I think the hardest part of all of this is realizing that I'm not just grieving my parents and my grandma. I'm grieving a childhood I never had. I'm grieving the mother who never comforted me, the father who never protected me, and the family memories that were never made. I'm grieving the relationships I spent my entire childhood wishing for and the possibility that maybe, someday, things could have been different. And now they'll never be different. There's no fixing things. No apologies. No second chances. No opportunity to build the relationships I always wanted. They're just gone. I feel like I'm carrying so much grief, anger, resentment, love, and guilt all at once, and I don't know what to do with any of it. I don't want to spend the rest of my life being jealous of people who have loving parents. I don't want to feel bitter every time I see a happy family. I want to be able to appreciate the beautiful life I've built without constantly mourning the one I never got to experience. But I don't know how. I guess that's why I'm here. I'm hoping there's someone out there who understands what it's like to grieve people who hurt you. To miss parents who were never really parents. To love people you're still angry with. To feel completely alone even when you're surrounded by people who love you. Because right now, I just feel lost. How do you grieve someone you loved when you're also grieving everything they never gave you? On a slightly lighter note, is anyone currently accepting applications for an adult daughter and two grandchildren? We're a package deal! I'm 33, mostly house-trained, come with a husband, and can provide homemade baked goods, sarcastic commentary, and two pretty awesome grandkids. I promise to call, visit, and show up for Sunday dinners. ❤️ Seriously though, where does one go to get adopted as an adult? Asking for a friend. (It's me. I'm the friend.)
