What to Do About a Family Reunion

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I'm not quite certain if this post belongs on this board. This is a post about dysfunctional family relationships.

Background:

I wasn't diagnosed with autism until four years ago when I was 53. For many years, I was widely regarded by friends and relatives as being "different" or even "eccentric." When I was a kid, my parents didn't appreciate me for the person I was. They didn't understand self stimming (flapping hands or wildly shaking my head). They didn't understand that I needed alone time. To be fair, I didn't understand this either because as I said, I wasn't diagnosed with autism until much later in life.

Even if a diagnosis had been available, I grew up in a time when no one admitted to having problems. John Wayne was the proverbial king of machismo and "real men" sucked it up and moved on. I mention this because my parents chose to deal with my eccentricities by slapping the heck out of me and by screaming, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? WHY CAN'T YOU ACT NORMAL?"

My father often complained that he should have adopted an orphan while we were stationed in Thailand (during the Vietnam war) because an orphan would have been more appreciative of everything my family had to offer.

My mother sneered at me and frequently observed that I was stupid and ugly. She told me that she would be surprised if I amounted to anything since it was clear to "everyone" that I was destined to either scrub toilets as a janitor or to pick up trash as a garbage collector. She told me that I was stupid and worthless and that her life would have been better if I had died in child birth. What kind of a sick and twisted person says this to her own child?

I have a sister who was five years younger than I was. I always resented the fact that while I was deemed stupid and ugly and worthless, my sister was always the perfect little princess who could do no wrong.

I did not have a good relationship with my sister because she became a bully. When I was 12 and she was 7, we were playing a game of Monopoly and I was being a mean spirited 12 year old kid. I was winning and gloating doing my, "Ha-ha, I'm winning" dance when she got mad and began screaming. She subsequently knocked the game board over and sent paper money, game pieces, cards, and dice flying across the living room.

My mother and grandmother rushed into the room just as my sister burst into tears.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Mother found a yardstick and began whacking me on top of my head and on the back of my shoulders. While she was beating me, I saw my sister stop crying. She looked at me and smiled and when I shouted that she was crying fake tears, she resumed crying. I was subsequently punished for having lied and was beaten until my mother broke the yard stick over my head. I was then beaten some more for having broken the stick.

From that point on, my relationship with my sister got worse. From time to time (and I could never figure out when or why this would happen), my sister would scream and cry her crocodile tears and mother would scream at me and beat me with a yard stick.

Two or three years down the road, I finally reached my breaking point. I grabbed my sister by the throat, slammed her against her bedroom wall, and raised my fist. I told her that if she was going to have me beaten for no reason, I might as well beat the heck out of her because I had nothing to lose.

My sister glared at me. I could see hatred in her eyes ... but faced with a beating, she reluctantly agreed to stop getting me in trouble. I let her go and was relieved to find that she was true to her word. She never got me in trouble again. For the record I will also say that I never once slapped or hit my sister. This doesn't mean that I was without fault. I resented her and didn't have a problem with calling her names.

Although my mother was primarily responsible for most of the abuse I suffered as a child, my father was not without fault. For example, after teasing my sister by tying a bathrobe tie around the throat of a stuffed animal and dragging it around the house, my father decided to teach me about strangulation by tying the bathrobe tie around my throat. He then grabbed the tie and yanked me off my feet so that I really was choking.

On another occasion, after climbing into the back seat of our car, I played a joke on my father by screaming when he slammed the driver's door shut. My father made me put my hand in the door frame and he subsequently slammed the door on my hand. (sigh)

I also remember when a teacher asked me if everything was okay at home. After telling her about some of my experiences, she called my father. My father was enraged and he beat me so badly that I couldn't walk. I spent several days in bed and was covered with bruises. My father told me that if I ever again divulged family business, he'd give me a worse beating.

My parents eventually divorced and my mother told me to choose a side. I was in college at the time. When I refused to choose a side, she stopped my tuition payments. Dad had to take a loan out to keep me in college. Since my mother had cut off my tuition and because she had been verbally and emotionally abusive throughout my childhood, I terminated all relations with her. This was 37 years ago. I don't miss her. Every time I think of her, I can hear her mocking voice telling me that I'm stupid, ugly, and useless.

My sister corresponded with me for a couple of years but one day she stopped writing. She also broke off contact with my father. During her last correspondence, she sent him a cryptic message in which she said that she loved him but could not have anything further to do with him. She did not explain why.

Fast forward to two years ago.

My father asked if I could use my internet skills to find my sister. I found her and got her home address, phone number, and email address. Dad wrote to her and told her that he's old. He told her that he loved her and that he wanted to patch fences before he died.

To my surprise, my sister responded.

Dad was thrilled.

I wasn't.

Although I've kept in touch with my father, I haven't seen him in 20 years. The last time I saw him, he grumbled at me for being overweight. He thought I should have been a lawyer instead of a teacher and spent a great deal of time telling me how useless my profession was. Since I wasn't married or dating, he accused me of being gay. It was a horrible and uncomfortable visit that was made worse by the fact that he dragged me along with him on errands as though I was still a little kid.

I remember going to an Outback Steak House with him. At the time, my very favorite Outback Steak House meal was the 16 oz. prime rib, cooked medium well. I enjoyed this with a garden salad with Ranch dressing, their wonderful freshly baked brown bread, and a fully loaded baked potato.

Even though I was paying for this meal, when I submitted my order, my father made some changes. He told the server to give me a 12 oz. cut instead of the 16. "Just look at him," snorted my father. "He doesn't need a 1 lb. slice."

He made her change my loaded baked potato into a plain potato. He made her put a vinaigrette on my salad instead of Ranch dressing because there were less calories in a vinaigrette. He wouldn't even let me enjoy the brown bread because I didn't need all of those carbohydrates.

I was FURIOUS. When the ticket came, I paid for the meal. I also gave the server a 20% tip. My father told me that 20% was excessive and he pocketed the tip. He told me to leave the server a couple of dollars. When he stood up to leave and turned around, I snatched $20 out of my wallet and hid it under a napkin.

My father has now started to drop hints about a family reunion. I have no interest in a reunion. I don't have a warm and fuzzy relationship with my father. I've had no contact with my sister in 35 years. I can't forget the fact that she got me in trouble on several occasions with her fake tears. Even though she was a kid, I think there's something really cruel and malicious about what she did and I have no interest in getting to know the person she has become.

My family doesn't feel like a family. To me they're just people who are related to me. I see no point in a reunion because this would just dredge up some really bad memories. I've played the autistic card and told my father that I don't form relationships ... nor would I appreciate deviating from my routine by having to take a trip to California. I've also reminded him of how my sister used to get me in trouble. I have not reminded him of how abusive he was.

I don't know what else I can do.

A neurotypical colleague told me that I should go otherwise I'll regret not having mended my own fences after my father has passed. I don't see the point of mending fences. Although my father has often told my sister how much he loved her, he's never said that to me. He's never even told me that he's proud of me.

Instead of love, my father has repeatedly emphasized how disappointed he is with me. He hasn't cared for my choice of careers. He doesn't like the fact that I'm overweight (though I'm not morbidly obese). He still thinks I'm gay because I'm not married. Despite being a medical doctor, he still somehow seems to think that I can "outgrow" my autism.

I don't have a problem with keeping to myself. Although I don't mind corresponding with my father, I really don't want to see him in person. I also don't want to see my sister.

Am I wrong to feel this way? I'm told that this is wrong but it doesn't feel wrong.

David

People can change, maybe vision of near death 've changed your father? Maybe he wants your forgiveness? Even if not, If you have enough strength you should give them the last chance, running away is never a good solution. But if you think it will make matters only worse, then don't go.

As it turns out, my sister changed her phone number and email address. She sent one brief letter to my father and has gone back into hiding. My father was crushed but short of going to her home and physically confronting her (which could end very badly if she were to call the police), there's nothing to be done.

It takes two people to communicate and for some reason she's decided not to reopen any lines of communication with my father.

As for myself, I was really quite relieved to learn that there would be no reunion.

I'm sorry to hear your story. I'm sure recounting that family history must have been quite painful.

If your father showed any tenderness toward you today, I might recommend giving him one last chance; but in the story about Outback, he appeared as abusive as ever.

Your sister must have been traumatized in ways you never detected, by this dysfunctional family.

I would have given you my support for not going to this family reunion. As it is, you are quite justified in not getting together with him.

How is your life now? I see you are not married, but do you have any good friends or congenial co-workers? Even a person who needs alone time, still needs a few social contacts he can count on.

If you don't go, you should at least explain to him why you don't want to go (tell him all his wrongdoings).

Nope, I'm not married. I've always had problems relating to women. It's not that I'm not attracted to them and to be candid, I don't know how much of my problem is due to my autism and how much is due to the years of abuse I suffered from my mother.

My biggest problem with women is that if I see any trait that reminds me of my mother, I panic and will immediately back off.

I used to have a small circle of friends but after being clinically diagnosed with autism 4 years ago, I made a few changes in my life.

1) I transferred from a large school in Vegas to a small rural school.

2) I used the excuse of this transfer to end the few friendships I had. I needed time to move and to unpack and to familiarize myself with my new school and eventually I just fell out of contact. As to why I did this, after learning I was neurologically predisposed towards being a reclusive introvert, I decided to just give in to my nature and to become a reclusive introvert. When I'm at home, I just want to be left alone. Having friends was an effort to feel normal ... but I'm not normal and I never will be. Establishing, developing, and maintaining friendships took up a lot of time and was emotionally exhausting. I am much more content to simply have work and to have home. Although I'm on friendly terms with several colleagues at work, I have politely declined invitations to dinner or to join them in various off campus social activities.

My life is simple and I'm content. Although I realize that my situation may not be ideal, it works for me and it doesn't bother me to be alone with no one for companionship except my cats. I don't even feel bothered when the holidays roll around, although I do find myself watching Hallmark movies in an effort to live vicariously through these TV characters while trying to understand why friends and family even matter.

This is not to say that I don't care about people. I do. Preferably from a distance.

Over the course of my life thus far, I have been a teacher for 29 years. I've also been a USO baker and was in Saudi Arabia as a U.S. citizen during the 1st Gulf War. I've been a volunteer host while in Saudi Arabia, inviting U.S. troops into my home for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. I've been a volunteer firefighter and have helped run a food bank I've picked up trash for Texas Parks and Wildlife and in Michigan I was a Red Cross volunteer for disaster relief shelters.

I like people but given my problems with social awkwardness which includes an inability to ready body language and all but the most obvious facial expressions, I don't enjoy being around them. It doesn't help that I don't have much of a sense of humor. The concept of sarcasm has remained largely elusive. Unless I interact with certain individuals on a frequent basis, I won't recognize them.

A few weeks ago we had a school function in the evening that required my presence. After work I went to Chili's for dinner. I was sitting quietly at a table reading my tablet when I looked up to see some woman waving in my direction. I assumed that she was waving at the people behind me and I ignored her.

A bit later on I looked up to see the guy she was sitting with waving at me. I again assumed that he was waving at the people behind me and I ignored him.

The next day at work, the school counselor asked why I hadn't waved at her at Chili's. I abruptly realized that my ability to recognize people depends in part upon the situational context. I had no problems with being able to identify the counselor at work ... but I didn't recognize her at the restaurant.

I found myself wondering if the person she had been with was also a teacher at my school. She turned red and told me that she had been on a date and her date thought it would be amusing to wave at me.

I did not understand why he thought this was amusing but since the counselor seemed embarrassed I did not pursue this question. I also don't understand why she was embarrassed. I was embarrassed that I hadn't recognized her.