Control is not necessarily a dirty word. If a mother restrains her toddler instead of letting him wander into the street, we don't call her a controller, we call her prudent. She is exercising control that is in tune with reality, motivated by her child's need for protection and guidance.

Let's listen in on an imaginary conversation between an adult child and one of his controlling parents. I can guarantee you this conversation would never take place, but if these two people were capable of honestly expressing their deeply hidden feelings, they might say the following.

CONTROLLING MOTHER: I can't describe the pain I feel when you pull away from me. I need you to need me. I can't stand the thought of losing you. You're my whole life. I'm terrified that you're going to make some horrible mistakes. It would rip me apart to see you get hurt. I'd rather die than feel like a failure as a mother.

ADULT CHILD: Why do you act the way you do? Why is everything I do wrong? Why can't you treat me like an adult? What difference does it make to Dad if I don't become a doctor? What difference does it make to you who I marry? When are you going to let me go? Why do you act as if every decision I make on my own is an attack on you?

"It's for Your Own Good"

The fear of not being needed motivates many controlling parents to perpetuate this sense of powerlessness in their children. These parents have an unhealthy fear of the "empty nest syndrome," the inevitable sense of loss that all parents experience when their children finally leave home. So much of a controlling parent's identity is tied up in the parental role that he or she feels betrayed and abandoned when the child becomes independent.

Appropriate control becomes overcontrol when the mother restrains her child ten years later, long after the child is perfectly able to cross the street alone.

Children who are not encouraged to do, to try, to explore, to master, and to risk failure, often feel helpless and inadequate. Over-controlled by anxious, fearful parents, these children often become anxious and fearful themselves. This makes it difficult for them to mature. When they develop through adolescence and adulthood, many of them never outgrow the need for ongoing parental guidance and control. As a result, their parents continue to invade, manipulate, and frequently dominate their lives.

What makes a controlling parent so insidious is that the domination usually comes in the guise of concern. Phrases such as, "this is for your own good,"

There's nothing fancy about direct control. It's overt, tangible, right out in the open. "Do as I say or I'll never speak to you again"; "Do as I say or I'll cut off your money"; "If you don't do as I say you'll no longer be a member of this family"; "If you go against my wishes you'll give me a heart attack." There's nothing subtle about it.

"I'm only doing this for you," and, "only because I love you so much," all mean the same thing: "I'm doing this because I'm so afraid of losing you that I'm willing to make you miserable."

Michael, a charming, sweet-faced, 36-year-old advertising executive, provides a good example of this. He came to see me because his six-year marriage to a woman he deeply loved had become extremely shaky as a result of a tug-of-war between his wife and his parents.

Direct Control

Direct control usually involves intimidation and is frequently humiliating. Your feelings and needs must be subordinated to those of your parents. You are dragged into a bottomless pit of ultimatums. Your opinion is worthless; your needs and desires are irrelevant. The imbalance of power is tremendous.

The worst incident was about a year after the wedding. We were planning to go out to Boston for my folks' anniversary party when my wife came down with this horrible flu. She was really sick. I didn't want to just leave her, so I called my mother to cancel. Well, first off she bursts into tears. Then she tells me, "If you don't come for our anniversary, I'm going to die." So, I caved in and went to Boston. I got there the morning of the party, but right off the plane, they start in that I should stay the whole week. I didn't say yes or no, but I left the next morning. A day later I get a call from my father: "You're killing your mother. She was up all night crying. I'm afraid she's going to have a stroke." What the hell do they want me to do? Divorce my wife, come back to Boston, and move back into my old room?

I asked Michael to tell me about the "pressure."

The real problems didn't start until I moved to California. I think my mother thought it was a temporary move. But when I told her I'd fallen in love and planned to get married, it hit her that I wanted to settle down here. That's when she really started turning on the pressure to bring me back home.

No way! Whenever they call, they never ask how she is. In fact, they don't even mention her. It's like they're trying to pretend she doesn't exist.

I asked Michael if he ever confronted his parents about this, and he seemed embarrassed as he answered:

Michael's parents could pull his strings from three thousand miles away. I asked him if his parents had ever come around to accepting his wife. Michael became visibly flushed with anger.

Michael's crime was that he had become independent. In response, his parents had become desperate, and lashed out with the tactics they knew best: withdrawing love and predicting catastrophe.

Like most controlling parents, Michael's were incredibly self-centered. They felt threatened by Michael's happiness, instead of seeing it as a validation of their parenting skills. Michael's interests were insignificant to them. According to them, he hadn't moved to California for a career opportunity, he had moved to punish them. He hadn't married for love, he had married to spite them. His wife hadn't gotten sick because she contracted a virus, she had gotten sick to deprive them.

I wish I had. Every time she'd get clobbered by my parents, I'd expect her to take it. When she'd complain, I'd ask her to be understanding. God, was I an idiot! My parents are slugging away at my wife, and I just keep letting them hurt her.

When Michael first came to me, he thought his marriage was the major problem. It didn't take him long to realize that his marriage was merely a victim of the struggle for control that had begun when he moved away from home.

Michael's parents were always forcing him to choose between themselves and his wife. And they made every choice an all-or-nothing decision. With directly controlling parents, there is no middle ground. If the adult child tries to gain some control over his own life, he pays the price in guilt, frustrated rage, and a deep sense of disloyalty.

Some parents will attack the new relationship with criticism, sarcasm, and predictions of failure. Others, as in Michael's case, will refuse to accept the new partner or even ignore the spouse's very existence. And still others will directly persecute the new partner. It is not unusual for these tactics to create such upheaval that the marriage is undermined.

A child's marriage can be extremely threatening to controlling parents. They see the new spouse as a competitor for their child's devotion. This leads to horrendous battles between parents and spouse, with the adult child caught in a crossfire of divided loyalties.

Kim came to see me with a variety of concerns. At 41 she was overweight, unhappy with her work, and divorced with two teenage children. She felt stuck in a rut: she wanted to lose weight, to take some risks in her career, and to find some direction in her life. She was convinced that her problems could all be solved if she could only find Mr. Right.

"WHY DO I SELL MYSELF OUT TO MY PARENTS?"

Well, certainly not from my husband. It was more like I had to take care of him. I met him when I was right out of college. He was twenty-seven, still living with his parents, and really floundering about what he was going to do for a living. But he was sensitive and romantic and I fell for him. My father totally disapproved, but I think he was secretly pleased that I picked someone who couldn't get it together. When I insisted on marrying him, my father told me he would support us for a while, and if worse came to worse, he'd give my husband a job in his company. Of course this makes my father sound like a terrific guy, but it gave him an incredible hold over us. Even though I was married, I was still Daddy's little girl. My father kept bailing us out financially, but in return for that, he got to tell us how to live our lives. I was playing house and raising babies and yet…

As our session went along, it became clear that Kim believed she was nothing without a man to take care of her. I asked her where she had gotten this idea.

Money has always been the primary language of power, making it a logical tool for controlling parents. Many toxic parents use money to keep their children dependent.

Kim broke off in midsentence. "And yet what?" I asked. She looked down at the floor as she finished:

I asked Kim if she could see the connection between her relationship with her father and her dependence on men to make her life okay.

There's no question that my father was the most powerful person in my life. He was really adoring when I was little, but when I started to have a mind of my own, he couldn't handle it. He'd have these screaming fits if I dared to disagree with him. He'd call me terrible names. He was really loud and scary. When I was a teenager, he started using money to keep me in line. Sometimes he'd be incredibly generous, which made me feel really loved and safe. But other times he'd humiliate me by making me beg and cry for anything from movie money to schoolbooks. I was never sure what my crimes were. I just know I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to please him. It was never the same two days in a row. He kept making it tougher.

And yet… I still needed Daddy to take care of me.

For Kim, trying to please her father was like running a race in which he was always moving the finish line. The harder she ran, the farther he moved it. She couldn't win. He used money for both reward and punishment, without logic or consistency. He was alternately generous and stingy with money, just as he was with love and affection. His mixed messages confused her. Her dependency became entangled with his approval. This confusion continued into Kim's adult life.

I encouraged my husband to go to work for my father. What a mistake that was! Now he really had us under his thumb. Everything had to be done his way -- from choosing an apartment to toilet training the kids. He made Jim's life a living hell at work, so Jim finally quit. My father saw this as another example of Jim's worthlessness, even though Jim got another job. My father really lit into me about that and threatened to stop helping us, but then he did a complete about-face and, for Christmas, he bought me a new car. When he handed me the keys, he said, "Don't you wish your husband was rich like me?"

"CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?"

Many toxic parents control their adult children by treating them as if they were helpless and inadequate, even when this is drastically out of sync with reality.

I'm really scared. Something's happening to me. I'm having these fits of temper. It just gets out of control. I've always been a totally nonviolent person, but in the last few months, I'm screaming at my wife and kids, slamming doors, and three weeks ago, I got so pissed off I punched a hole in the wall. I'm really scared I'm going to hurt somebody.

Kim's father used his financial power in very cruel and destructive ways while appearing to be magnanimous. He used it to make himself even more indispensable in Kim's eyes and to continually diminish Kim's husband. In this way he continued to control her long after she left the nest.

I complimented him on his courage and foresight to come in for therapy before the problem got out of hand. I asked whom he would have liked to hit when he punched that wall. He laughed bitterly:

Martin, a thin, balding, 43-year-old president of a small construction supply company, came to see me in genuine panic. He said:

My father took me into his business eighteen years ago, and then he retired a couple of years later. So I've been running this business for fifteen years. But every goddamned week, my father comes in and starts looking through the accounts. Then he bitches about how I'm handling them. He follows me out of my office screaming about how I'm screwing up his company. Right in front of my employees he does it. The irony is, I've turned this business around. I've doubled our profits, just in the last three years, but he won't leave me alone. Is this man ever going to be satisfied?

Martin was constantly having to jump through hoops to prove himself. He had real evidence of achievement -- his profits -- but that evidence paled beside his father's disapproval. I suggested to Martin that his father might feel threatened by Martin's success. His father's ego seemed to be tied up with having built this business, but now his achievement was being overshadowed by his son's.

That's easy -- my old man. No matter how hard I try, he always makes me feel that whatever I'm doing is wrong. Would you believe he has the balls to put me down in front of my own employees?

When Martin saw that I looked puzzled, he explained:

I asked Martin if during these episodes he was in touch with any feelings other than his understandable anger.

Martin's father used the business to keep Martin feeling inadequate, which in turn enabled his father to feel better about himself. When Dad pushed the right buttons, Martin became a helpless child in grown-up clothing.

It took some time, but Martin finally came to realize that he had to give up the hope that his father would change. Martin is now working hard to change the way he deals with his father.

There is another powerful form of control that, while more subtle and covert than direct control, is every bit as damaging: manipulation. Manipulators get what they want without ever having to ask for it, without ever having to risk rejection by being open about their desires.

The Tyranny of the Manipulator

You bet I am. I'm really ashamed to tell you this, but every time he walks into the office, I feel like I'm two years old. I can't even answer questions right. I start to stammer, apologize, and feel scared. He looks so powerful, even though I'm as big as he is physically, that I feel about half his size. He has this cold look in his eye and a critical tone in his voice. Why can't he treat me like an adult?

"WHY DOES SHE ALWAYS HAVE TO HELP?"

All of us manipulate others to varying degrees. Few of us are confident enough to just ask for everything we want in this world, so we develop indirect ways of asking. We don't ask our spouse for a glass of wine, we ask if there's any open; we don't ask our guests to leave at the end of the evening, we yawn; we don't ask an attractive stranger for a phone number, we engage in small talk. Children manipulate parents as much as parents do children. Spouses, friends, and relatives all manipulate one another. Salesmen make a living out of manipulating. There's nothing inherently evil about it; in fact, it's a normal mode of human communication.

But when it becomes a tool for consistent control, manipulation can be exceedingly destructive, especially in a parent-child relationship. Because manipulative parents are so adept at hiding their true motives, their children live in a world of confusion. They know they're being had, but they can't figure out how.

One of the most common types of toxic manipulators is the "helper." Instead of letting go, the helper creates situations to make him- or herself "needed" in the adult child's life. This manipulation often comes packaged as well-meaning but unwanted assistance.

Lee, 32, is an outgoing, freckled-faced, former top-seeded amateur tennis player who has been doing very well as a tennis pro at a country club. Despite an active social life, professional recognition, and a good job, she was going into regular periods of deep depression. Her relationship with her mother quickly dominated our first session together:

All the time. She just wells up with tears and cries, "What's wrong with a mother who helps a daughter she loves?" Last month I was invited to play a tournament in San Francisco. My mother went on and on about how far it was and how I couldn't possibly drive the whole way by myself. So she volunteered to come with me. When I told her she really didn't have to, she acted like I was trying to trick her out of a free vacation. So I said okay. I had really been looking forward to the time alone, but what could I say?

I asked Lee if she'd ever simply asked her mother to stop doing these things.

I've worked very hard to get where I am, but my mother doesn't think I can tie my own shoes. Her whole life is wrapped up in me, and it's gotten much worse since my dad died. She just doesn't let up. She's always bringing food over to my apartment because she doesn't think I eat well enough. Sometimes, I come back to my place and find that she's come in and cleaned it "as a favor." She's even rearranged my clothes and furniture!

Of course, her depression just fed the cycle. Her mother never missed an opportunity to say things such as, "Look how down in the mouth you look. Let me fix a little lunch, just to cheer you up."

On those rare occasions when Lee did work up the courage to tell her mother how she felt, her mother would become the tearful martyr. Lee would invariably feel guilty and try to apologize, but her mother would cut her off with, "Don't worry about me, I'll be all right."

As Lee and I worked together in therapy, she began to see how much her feelings of competence had been undermined by her mother. But whenever Lee tried to express her frustration, she was overwhelmed by guilt because her mother appeared to be so loving and caring. Lee became increasingly angry at her mother, and since she couldn't let it out, she had to hold it in. Eventually, it found an outlet as depression.

You're right. If she could only say, "I'm lonely, I miss you, I'd like you to spend more time with me," at least I'd know what I was dealing with. I'd have some choices. The way it is now, it's like she's taken over my life.

I suggested to Lee that if her mother had been more direct in asking for what she wanted, Lee wouldn't have been so angry. Lee agreed.

Manipulative parents have a field day on holidays, spreading guilt as if it were Christmas cheer. Holidays tend to intensify whatever family conflicts already exist. Instead of anticipating holiday pleasure, many people find themselves dreading the rise of family tensions that holidays often bring.

When Lee bemoaned her lack of choices, she was echoing what many adult children of manipulative parents believe. Manipulation paints people into a corner: to fight it, they have to hurt someone who's "just trying to be nice." For most people it seems easier to give in.

TIS THE SEASON TO BE MELANCHOLY

My mother always made a big deal about all of us coming home for Christmas. Last year, I won a radio contest and got a free trip to Aspen over the holidays. I was really excited since I could never afford a trip like this myself. I love skiing, and it was an incredible chance for me to take my girlfriend someplace great. We'd both been working so hard, this vacation sounded like heaven. But when I broke the news to my mom, she looked like somebody just died. Her eyes glazed up and her lip started trembling, you know, like she was going to cry? Then she said, "It's okay, honey. You have a good time. Maybe we just won't have Christmas dinner this year," which really made me feel like a real turd.

One of my clients, Fred, a 27-year-old grocery clerk, and the youngest of four siblings, told me a story of classic manipulation by his mother:

I asked Fred whether he had managed to go on the trip anyway.

I was frankly surprised that Fred had gone on his trip at all. I've seen people go to far more extravagant lengths to avoid feeling guilty than canceling a trip. Manipulative parents are masters of guilt, and Fred's mother was no exception.

Of course, they had Christmas dinner without me. But my mother was so miserable she burned the turkey for the first time in forty years. I got three phone calls from my sister telling me how I'd killed the family tradition. My oldest brother told me everybody was totally bummed out because I wasn't there. And then my other brother really laid one on me. He said, "Us kids are all she's got. How many more Christmases do you think Mom has left?" Like I'm abandoning her on her deathbed or something. Is that fair, Susan? She's not even sixty, she's in perfect health. I'm sure he got that line straight from my mother's mouth. I'll never miss Christmas again, I'll tell you that.

Yeah, I went. But I had the worst time of my life. I was in such a horrible mood that I kept fighting with my girlfriend. I spent half the trip on the phone with my mother, and both my brothers, and my sister… I was apologizing all over the place. It wasn't worth the agony.

As long as Fred continued to believe that he was a bad person because he dared to do something for himself, his mother would continue to control him through guilt. Fred eventually came to understand this and is now much more effective in dealing with his mother. Though she sees her son's new assertiveness as some form of "punishment," Fred has tipped the balance of power to the point where any concessions he makes are concessions of choice, not capitulation.

Instead of expressing her feelings directly to Fred, Fred's mother enlisted her other children to do it for her. This is an extremely effective tactic for many manipulative parents. Remember, their primary goal is to avoid direct confrontation. Instead of accusing Fred herself, his mother played the role of martyr at Christmas dinner. She couldn't have made a more forceful condemnation of Fred if she'd taken an ad out in the paper.

I explained to Fred that his mother and siblings had made their own choices to have a miserable Christmas. Fred was not responsible. Nothing but their own choice had stopped them from toasting Fred in his absence and having a fun-filled evening.

Many toxic parents compare one sibling unfavorably with another to make the target child feel that he's not doing enough to gain parental affection. This motivates the child to do whatever the parents want in order to regain their favor. This divide-and-conquer technique is often unleashed against children who become a little too independent, threatening the balance of the family system.

Whether consciously or unconsciously, these parents manipulate an otherwise normal sibling rivalry into a cruel competition that inhibits the growth of healthy sibling bonds. The effects are far-reaching. In addition to the obvious damage to the child's self-image, negative comparisons create resentments and jealousies between siblings that can color their relationship for a lifetime.

Rebel with a Cause

"WHY CAN'T YOU BE MORE LIKE YOUR SISTER?"

When toxic parents control us in intense, intimidating, guilt-producing, or emotionally crippling ways, we usually react in one of two ways: we capitulate or we rebel. Both of these reactions inhibit psychological separation, even though rebellion would seem to do just the opposite. The truth is, if we rebel in reaction to our parents, we are being controlled just as surely as if we submit.

Now, don't start feeling sorry for me. I've got a beautiful house. I collect cars. I've got all kinds of possessions. I really lead an okay life. But there are times when I get very, very lonely. I have so much, and I can't share it with anyone. Sometimes I get this terrible feeling of loss for what I might have had in terms of a loving, intimate relationship. I'm terrified that I'm going to end up dying alone.

Jonathan, 55, is a nice-looking, athletic bachelor who owns a large computer software company. In our first session together, he almost apologized for his intense feelings of panic and loneliness:

I asked Jonathan if he had any idea why he was having such a difficult time with relationships.

I asked Jonathan how he felt about this pressure from his mother.

She's obsessed with my getting married. She's eighty-one, she's in good health, and she has plenty of her own friends, but I feel like she spends her whole day worrying about my love life. I really love her, but I can't stand being around her because of this. She lives for my happiness. She smothers me with her concern. It's like I can't peel this woman off of me. She's constantly trying to tell me how to live my life… always has. I mean, she would breathe for me if she could.

Every time I've gotten close to a woman… or even thought about marrying someone, I've panicked and run. I don't know why… I wish I did. My mother never lets me hear the end of it.

I suggested to Jonathan that he may have been so intent on rebelling against his controlling mother that he was ignoring his own true desires. It had become so important to him not to give in to his mother's wishes that he deprived himself of the kind of relationship with a woman he claimed to want. By doing this, he created for himself an illusion that he was "his own man," but in reality his need to rebel overpowered his free will.

I call this "self-defeating rebellion." It is the flip side of capitulation. Healthy rebellion is an active exercise of free choice. It enhances personal growth and individuality. Self-defeating rebellion is a reaction against a controlling parent, an exercise in which the means attempt to justify an unsatisfactory end. This is rarely in our best interests.

Jonathan's last statement was a wonderfully graphic description of "fusion." His mother was so enmeshed with him that she forgot where she ended and he began. She "fused" her life to his. Jonathan became an extension of her, as if his life were her life. Jonathan needed to free himself from her suffocating control, so he rebelled. He rejected whatever she wanted for him, including things he might otherwise desire, such as marriage.

One of my group members once said, "My parents are both dead, so they don't have any power over me." Another member spoke out: "They may be dead, honey, but they're still living in your head!" Both self-defeating rebellion and capitulation can persist long after a parent's death.

Many people believe that once the controlling parent dies they will be free, but the psychological umbilical cord reaches not only across continents but out of the grave. I've seen hundreds of adults who were unflinchingly loyal to their parents' demands and negative messages long after their parents were gone.

Control from the Grave

When I first met Eli, despite being a millionaire many times over, he was living in a one-room apartment, driving an old clunker, and living the lifestyle of a man who could barely make ends meet. He was extremely generous with his two adult daughters but an obsessive penny-pincher with himself.

Eli, 60, a very successful businessman with an extraordinary intellect and a wry wit, made an unusually sophisticated assessment of his situation: "I'm a supporting player in my own life."

I remember one day when he came to see me after work. I asked him how his day had been and he laughingly told me that he'd almost blown an $18 million deal because he'd been late for a meeting. Though usually punctual, Eli had circled the block for twenty minutes looking for a parking place on the street to avoid the cost of the building's lot. He had jeopardized $18 million for the sake of a $5 parking fee!

My parents were poor immigrants. I grew up in total squalor. My folks, particularly my father, taught me to be afraid of everything. He would say, "It's a savage world out there, if you don't watch your step you'll get eaten alive." He made me feel that I had nothing to look forward to except danger, and he didn't stop even after I'd gotten married and made a lot of money. He'd always be giving me the third degree about what I was spending on things and what I bought. And when I made the mistake of telling him, his standard response was, "You idiot! You waste money on luxuries. You should be saving every penny. Hard times will come, they always do, and then you'll need that money." It got to the point that I was terrified to spend a penny. My father never thought of life as something that could be enjoyed, he just saw it as something we had to endure.

As we explored some of the roots of his obsession with saving money, it became apparent that his father's voice, even twelve years after his death, still resounded in Eli's head:

I've had nothing but bad luck with women. I've just never been able to trust them. My wife divorced me because I kept accusing her of extravagance. It was ridiculous. She'd buy a handbag or something, and I'd start thinking bankruptcy court.

Eli's father projected the terrors and hardships of his own life on his son. When Eli went on to success, he heard his father's admonitions every time he tried to enjoy the fruits of his labor. His father's catastrophic predictions formed a never-ending tape loop in Eli's head. Even if Eli could bring himself to buy something for his own pleasure, his father's voice would prevent him from enjoying it.

His father's general mistrust of the future carried through to his thoughts on women. Like success, women would inevitably turn on you someday. He had a suspicion of women that bordered on paranoia. His son internalized these views as well:

As I worked with Eli, it became clear that money was not the only issue that came between him and his wife. He had a very hard time expressing feelings, especially tender ones, and she found this increasingly frustrating. This problem persists in his single life. As he expressed it:

Here was a bright, perceptive man who allowed powerful forces from beyond the grave to control him, even though he understood intellectually what was happening. He was a prisoner of his father's fear and mistrust.

Eli worked extremely hard in therapy. He took risks and pushed himself to adopt new behaviors. He began to confront many of his internal terrors. Ultimately, he bought a luxurious condominium -- a big step for him. He still felt guilty about it, but he learned to tolerate the guilt.

Every time that I take out a woman, I hear my father's voice saying, "Women love to trick men. They'll take you for all you've got if you're stupid enough to let them." I guess that's why I've always gone for inadequate women. I know they can't outsmart me. I always make lots of promises about taking care of them financially or setting them up in business, but I never follow through. I guess I'm trying to trick them before they trick me. Will I ever find a woman I can trust?

The voice inside his head will always be there, but he has learned to turn down the volume. Eli is still struggling with his mistrust of women, but he has learned to see this mistrust as a legacy from his father. He is working hard to trust the woman he's currently dating, using that trust as a weapon to gain control of his life.

Barbara, 39, a tall, slender composer of background music for television shows, came to see me in a devastating depression.

"I FEEL LIKE I CAN'T BREATHE"

I'll always remember the day he came in and told me that he'd fought off a wave of jealousy the night before and come away with a particularly warming sense of victory. He looked at me with tear-filled eyes and said, "You know, Susan, there is simply nothing in my current reality to justify my being as afraid as I was."

I asked Barbara if something specific had happened to precipitate her hospitalization, and she told me that she had lost both her parents within three months. My heart ached for her, but she was quick to try to dissuade me from empathizing:

I wake up at night, and there is an emptiness, almost like a death inside of me. I was a musical prodigy, played Mozart piano concertos at age five, and had a scholarship to Julliard by the time I was twelve. My career is going great, but I'm dying inside. I was hospitalized for depression six months ago. I think I'm going to lose myself. I don't know where to turn.

A few years after my marriage, my mother was told she had inoperable cancer. She made every member of the family swear not to tell me when she died. I didn't find out until five months later, when I ran into a family friend who expressed condolences. That's how I found out my mother had died. I went straight home and called my father. I don't know, I guess I thought we could patch things up. The first thing he said was: "You should be happy now, you've killed your mother!" I was devastated. He went on to grieve himself to death three months later. Every time I think of them I hear him accusing me and it makes me feel like a murderer. They're still strangling me with their accusations even though they're both six feet under. What does it take to get them out of my head, out of my life?

It's okay. We hadn't spoken in a few years, so I felt like I'd already lost them.

I asked her to tell me what had caused this separation.

When Chuck and I were planning to get married a little over four years ago, my parents insisted on coming and staying with us to help with the wedding. That was all I needed… for them to be breathing down my neck like they did when I was a kid. I mean they were always meddling… I was always getting the Spanish Inquisition about what I was doing, who I was doing it with, where I was going… Anyway, I offered to put them up in a hotel since Chuck and I were under enough stress before the wedding, and they really got crazy. They told me that unless they could come and stay with me, they would never speak to me again. For the first time in my life, I stood up to them. What a mistake that was. First, they didn't come to the wedding, then they told the entire family what a bitch I was. Now none of them talk to me.

Since they died, I've been very suicidal. It seemed like the only way to stop those voices in my head that kept saying, "You killed your father. You killed your mother." I was so close to killing myself, but you know what kept me from doing it?

Like Eli, Barbara was being controlled from the grave. She spent several years feeling responsible for killing her parents, which devastated her mental health and almost destroyed her marriage. She became desperate to escape her sense of guilt.

I was afraid I might run into my parents again. It was bad enough that they ruined my life here on earth; I wasn't about to give them a chance to destroy whatever I might find on the other side.

I shook my head. She smiled for the first time during our hour together and replied:

Like most adult children of toxic parents, Barbara was able to acknowledge some of the pain her parents had caused her. But that wasn't enough to help her transfer her feelings of responsibility from herself to them. It took some doing, but we finally worked through it together and she came to accept her parents' full responsibility for their cruel behavior. Her parents were dead, but it took Barbara another year before she could get them to leave her alone.

No Separate Identity

As a result, adult children of controlling parents often have a very blurred sense of identity. They have trouble seeing themselves as separate beings from their parents. They can't distinguish their own needs from their parents' needs. They feel powerless.

All parents control their children until those children gain control of their own lives. In normal families, the transition occurs soon after adolescence. In toxic families, this healthy separation is delayed for years -- or forever. It can only occur after you have made the changes that will enable you to gain mastery over your own life.

Parents who feel good about themselves do not have to control their adult children. But the toxic parents we've met in this chapter operate from a deep sense of dissatisfaction with their lives and a fear of abandonment. Their child's independence is like the loss of a limb to them. As the child grows older, it becomes ever more important for the parent to pull the strings that keep the child dependent. As long as toxic parents can make their son or daughter feel like a child, they can maintain control.