Your family system constituted your entire reality when you were young. You made decisions as a child -- about who you are and how you're supposed to interact with others -- based on how your family system taught you to see the world. If you had toxic parents, you probably made decisions such as: "I can't trust anybody"; "I'm not worth caring about"; or, "I'll never amount to anything." Those decisions were self-defeating and need to be changed. You can change many of these early decisions, and with them your life scenario, but you must first understand how much of what you feel, how you live, and what you believe has been shaped by your family system.

We are all forged in a crucible called family. In recent years, we have come to recognize that "family" is more than a collection of related people. It is a system, a group of interconnecting people, each of whom affects the others in profound and often hidden ways. It is a complex network of love, jealousy, pride, anxiety, joy, guilt -- a constant ebb and flow of the full range of human emotions. These emotions bubble up through a murky sea of family attitudes, perceptions, and relationships. And like the sea, very little of the inner workings of a family system is visible from the surface. The deeper you dive, the more you discover.

Remember, your parents had parents too. A toxic family system is like a multicar pile-up on the freeway, causing damage generation after generation after generation. This system is not something that your parents invented; it is the result of the accumulated feelings, rules, interactions, and beliefs that have been handed down from your ancestors.

If you want to begin to make sense of the confusion and chaos of a toxic family system, you need to look first at family beliefs, especially those beliefs that determine how parents interact with their children and how children are supposed to behave. One family, for example, may believe that a child's feelings are important, while another may believe that a child is a second-class citizen. Such beliefs determine our attitudes, judgments, and perceptions. They are incredibly powerful. They separate good from bad and right from wrong. They define relationships, moral values, education, sexuality, career choices, ethics, and finances. They mold family behavior.

Beliefs: There Is Only One Truth

Reasonably mature and caring parents will have beliefs that take into consideration the feelings and needs of all family members. They will provide a solid basis for a child's development and subsequent independence. Such beliefs might be: "children are entitled to disagree"; "it's wrong to deliberately hurt your child"; or, "children should feel free to make mistakes."

A toxic parent's beliefs about children, on the other hand, are almost always self-centered and self-serving. They believe things like, "children should respect their parents no matter what"; "there are only two ways to do things, my way and the wrong way"; or, "children should be seen but not heard." These types of beliefs form the soil from which toxic parental behavior grows.

Toxic parents resist any external reality that challenges their beliefs. Rather than change, they develop a distorted view of reality to support the beliefs they already have. Unfortunately, children lack the sophistication to discriminate between true reality and distorted reality. As children of toxic parents grow up, they carry their parents' distorted beliefs unchallenged into their own adult lives.

"oughts," and "supposed to's."

These overtly expressed beliefs have the advantage of giving us something tangible to wrestle with as we become adults. Although these beliefs may have become a part of us, the fact that they are stated makes them easy to examine, and perhaps to discard in favor of beliefs that are more relevant to our lives.

For example, a parental belief that divorce is wrong might keep a daughter in a loveless marriage. But the belief can be challenged. The daughter can ask herself, "What's 'wrong' with divorce?" And her answer to that question may lead her to reject her parents' belief.

It's not as easy to reject a belief that you don't even know exists. Unspoken beliefs can dictate many basic assumptions about life. They exist below the level of awareness. These are the beliefs that were implied by the way your father treated your mother, or by the way either one of them treated you. They are an important part of what we learn from our parents' behavior.

There are two types of beliefs: spoken and unspoken. Spoken beliefs are expressed or communicated directly. They are out there. You can hear them. Spoken beliefs are often disguised as words of advice, expressed in terms of "shoulds,"

It is a very rare family that will sit down to dinner to discuss beliefs such as: "women are second-class citizens"; "children should sacrifice themselves for their parents"; "children are bad by nature"; or, "children should stay inadequate so their parents can stay needed." Even if the family knew that they held these beliefs, few would admit to them. Yet these negative unspoken beliefs dominate many families with toxic parents, disastrously affecting their children's lives.

Michael -- whose mother threatened to have a heart attack when he moved away -- provided a telling example of unspoken parental beliefs:

For years I felt like a bad son because I moved to California and got married. I really believed that if you don't put your parents above everything else in life, you're a rotten kid. My folks never came out and said that, but I got the message loud and clear. No matter how terribly they treated my wife, I never defended her against them. I really believed that children are supposed to take whatever their folks dish out. I was supposed to crawl to them to make amends. I was their little sap.

Michael's parents' behavior communicated their belief that they were the only ones with rights and privileges. Without saying it, they infused in Michael the belief that only their feelings counted, and that Michael existed only to make them happy. These beliefs were strangling Michael; they almost destroyed his marriage.

"WOMEN CAN'T SURVIVE WITHOUT MEN TO TAKE CARE OF THEM"

Had Michael not come in for therapy, he probably would have passed these beliefs on to his own children. Instead, he learned to recognize his unspoken beliefs, which enabled him to challenge them. Michael's parents, like all toxic parents, reacted by being punitive and withdrawing their love. This was a tactic to regain control of Michael's life. Thanks to Michael's new understanding of his relationship with his parents, he didn't fall for that one either.

Kim -- whose volatile father controlled her with his moods and his money -- also accepted many of her parents' unspoken beliefs. As she described it:

My father and mother had a horrible marriage. She was scared to death of him, and I'm sure he hit her, even though I never actually saw him do it. Lots of times, I would go in to comfort her because she'd be sobbing in her bed, and she would tell me how miserable she was with him. I used to ask her why she didn't leave him, and she'd say, "What do you want me to do? I don't have any skills, and I couldn't stand giving all of this up. Do you kids want us to be out on the street?"

Without knowing it, Kim's mother reinforced the belief Kim had already learned from her father's behavior: women are helpless without men. This belief led Kim to remain dependent on her powerful father, but the price was her dignity and her chance for a healthy relationship.

There are as many different parental beliefs as there are parents. They form the skeleton of our intellectual perception of the world. This skeleton's flesh is made up of our feelings and behaviors; the skeleton gives them shape. When toxic parents provide us with distorted beliefs, our feelings and behaviors may become as skewed as the skeleton beneath them.

Spoken and Unspoken Rules

From parental beliefs come parental rules. Like beliefs, parental rules evolve over time. Rules are the manifestations of beliefs. They are the enforcers, the simple "do's and don'ts."

For example, a family belief that people should marry only within their religion would spawn such rules as: "don't date anyone from another religion"; "do date boys you meet at church"; and, "don't approve of friends who fall in love with someone not of their faith."

As with beliefs, there are spoken rules and unspoken rules. Spoken rules may be arbitrary, but they tend to be clear: "spend every Christmas at home," or, "don't talk back to your parents." Because they are out in the open, we can, as adults, challenge them.

But unspoken family rules are like phantom puppeteers, pulling invisible strings and demanding blind obedience. They are unseen, covert rules that exist below the level of awareness -- rules such as: "don't be more successful than your father"; "don't be happier than your mother"; "don't lead your own life"; "don't ever stop needing me"; or "don't abandon me."

Lee -- the tennis teacher whose mother couldn't do enough for her -- lived by a particularly damaging unspoken rule. Her mother enforced the rule every time she imposed herself under the guise of helping. When she offered to drive Lee to San Francisco, or clean up Lee's apartment, or bring over dinner, her underlying belief was: "as long as my daughter can't take care of herself, she'll need me." This belief translated into the rule: "don't be adequate." Of course, Lee's mother never said these words, and if confronted she would unquestionably deny wanting her daughter to remain helpless. But her behavior told Lee exactly how to keep her mother happy: stay dependent.

Unspoken rules have a tenacious hold on our lives. To change them, we must first understand them.

We blindly obey family rules because to disobey is to be a traitor to one's family. Allegiances to country, political ideals, or religion pale in comparison to the intensity of the allegiance to family. We all have these loyalties. They bind us to the family system, to our parents, and to their beliefs. They drive us to obey the family rules. If these rules are reasonable, they can provide some ethical and moral structure for a child's development.

Kim's father did the same thing. He laid down rules to govern his daughter's life without ever having to verbalize them. As long as Kim picked inadequate men, as long as she kept going back to her father to bail her out, and as long as her need for his approval dominated her life, she was obeying the unspoken rule: "don't grow up, always be Daddy's little girl."

If beliefs are the bones and rules are the flesh of the family system, then "blind obedience" is the muscle that propels that body.

Obedience No Matter What

Kate was obeying her abusive father's rules: "accept the fact that you're the bad one"; "don't be happy"; and, "endure the pain." Anytime she came close to defying these rules, the power of her loyalty to the family system proved much stronger than her conscious wishes. She had to obey, and when she did, the familiarity of her feelings was comforting, despite the fact that they were painful. Obedience seemed the easy way out.

I really think I want to get well. I don't want to be depressed. I don't want to screw up relationships. I don't want to have the kind of life I'm living. I don't want to be angry and afraid. But every time I get close to taking some positive steps for myself, I blow it. It's like I'm terrified to give up the pain, it feels so familiar. Like it's the way I'm supposed to feel.

Kate -- who was beaten by her father -- shows how hard it is to escape the cycle of blind obedience:

But in families with toxic parents, the rules are based on family role distortions and bizarre perceptions of reality. Blind obedience to these rules leads to destructive, self-defeating behavior.

THE OBEDIENCE TRAP

Glenn, too, was being loyal to his family when he took his alcoholic father into his manufacturing company and gave money that he needed to his mother. He believed that his parents would fall apart if he didn't take care of them. The family rule was: "take care of others, no matter what the cost to yourself." Glenn brought the rule with him into marriage. He obeyed it by devoting his life to rescuing his father, rescuing his mother, and rescuing his alcoholic wife.

They never gave a damn about me when I was a kid, but somehow I have to take care of them. It makes me sore as hell. No matter what I do for them, it doesn't change anything. I hate it, but I just don't know any other way to do it.

Glenn railed against his blind obedience, but he couldn't seem to free himself.

The kind of obedience I'm talking about is not a matter of free choice; it is rarely the result of a conscious decision. Jody -- who became her father's drinking buddy when she was 10-- left therapy abruptly because her growing awareness was forcing her to challenge the belief that she was the bad one. She was breaking the rules that said, "don't tell the truth"; "don't grow up and leave Daddy"; and, "don't have healthy relationships."

Even if both parents are dead, their adult children continue to honor the family system. Eli -- the rich man who lived like a pauper -- realized after several months of therapy how his father was still controlling him from the grave:

On paper, these rules seem ridiculous. Who would obey a rule like "don't have healthy relationships"? Unfortunately, the answer is, most adult children of toxic parents. Remember, these are mostly unconscious rules. No one sets out to have a bad relationship, but that doesn't stop millions of people from doing it over and over again.

It's so astounding to me that all the fear and guilt I feel whenever I try to do something nice for myself is my way of not betraying my father. I'm doing well. I don't have to worry about my world collapsing. But I still have trouble getting that through my thick skull. My father's voice keeps coming back from the grave to tell me how my business success can't last, every woman I date is out to make a fool of me, every business associate is out to cheat me. And I believe him. It amazes me. It's like being miserable is my way of keeping his memory alive.

When I asked Jody to examine her family beliefs, and what her obedience to the family rules was doing to her life, her anxiety caused her to leave therapy. It's as if she were saying, "My need to obey my father is more important than my need to get well."

I Don't Know Where You End and I Begin

The payoff for Eli in living a narrow, unfulfilling life was the comfort of remaining loyal to the family by embracing his father's beliefs ("life is meant to be endured, not enjoyed") and obeying the family rules ("don't spend your money" and "don't trust anybody").

Blind obedience forges our behavior patterns early in life and prevents us from escaping those patterns. There is often a huge gap between our parents' expectations and demands and what we really want for ourselves. Unfortunately, our unconscious pressure to obey almost always overshadows our conscious needs and desires. We can discard destructive rules only by turning a light on the unconscious and bringing those rules to the surface. Only when we can see the rules clearly can we exercise free choice.

The single most dramatic difference between healthy and toxic family systems is the amount of freedom that exists for family members to express themselves as individuals. Healthy families encourage individuality, personal responsibility, and independence. They encourage the development of their children's sense of adequacy and self-respect.

Unhealthy families discourage individual expression. Everyone must conform to the thoughts and actions of the toxic parents. They promote fusion, a blurring of personal boundaries, a welding together of family members. On an unconscious level, it is hard for family members to know where one ends and another begins. In their efforts to be close, they often suffocate one another's individuality.

In an enmeshed family you pay for intermittent feelings of approval and safety with your selfhood. For example, you may not be able to ask yourself, "Am I too tired to see my folks tonight?" Instead, you may have to ask, "If I don't go, will Dad get angry and hit Mom? Will Mom get drunk and pass out? Will they stop talking to me for the next month?" These questions arise because you already know how responsible you'll feel if any of these events occur. Every decision you make becomes intricately interwoven with the rest of your family. Your feelings, behaviors, and decisions are no longer your own. You are not yourself, you are an appendage of your family system.

TO BE DIFFERENT IS TO BE BAD

When Fred decided to go skiing instead of spending Christmas with his family, he was trying to be an individual, trying to free himself from his family system. Instead, all hell broke loose. His mother and his siblings treated him like the Grinch who stole Christmas, shoveling guilt by the trainload. Instead of skiing with his lover down the idyllic slopes of Aspen, Fred sat alone in his hotel room, nervously cradling his telephone, desperately seeking forgiveness for the misery his family blamed him for causing.

In families like Fred's, much of a child's identity and his illusions of safety depend on feeling enmeshed. He develops a need to be a part of other people and to have them be a part of him. He can't stand the thought of being cast out. This need for enmeshment carries right into adult relationships.

When Fred tried to do something healthy for himself -- something that the rest of the family disapproved of -- his family formed a united front against him. He became the common enemy, the threat to the system. They attacked with anger, blame, and recriminations. Because he was so tied in to the family, the guilt he felt was enough to bring him back into line.

Kim fought this need when she ended her marriage:

Even though the marriage wasn't that great, at least I felt part of somebody. And when it ended and he suddenly wasn't there, I felt terrified. I felt like I was nothing. I felt like I didn't exist. I guess the only time I feel okay is when I'm with a man and he tells me I'm okay.

When Kim was little, her enmeshment with her powerful father created a precarious security for her. Whenever she attempted to separate from him, he found ways to stifle her independence. As an adult, she could not feel safe unless she was part of a man and a man was part of her.

Enmeshment creates almost total dependence on approval and validation from outside yourself. Lovers, bosses, friends, even strangers become the stand-ins for parents. Adults like Kim who were raised in families where there was no permission to be an individual frequently become approval junkies, constantly seeking their next fix.

The Family Balancing Act

As we saw in Michael's case, an enmeshed family can maintain an illusion of love and stability as long as no one attempts to separate and as long as everyone follows the family rules. When Michael decided to move away, to marry, to begin his own family, and to lead a life separate from his parents, he unwittingly upset the family balance.

Michael is a perfect example. If his mother could create enough uproar in the family, Michael's guilt would drag him back to settle things down. He would do anything to restore the balance in the family, even if he had to surrender control over his own life. The more toxic the family, the less it takes to threaten it, and the more any imbalance seems like a threat to survival. That is why toxic parents may react to even minor deviations as if their lives were at stake.

The word balance implies serenity and order. But in a toxic family system, maintaining balance is like a precarious high-wire act. In such families, chaos is a way of life, becoming the only thing they can depend on. All of the toxic behaviors we've seen so far -- even battering and incest -- serve to maintain this precarious family balance. In fact, toxic parents often fight the loss of equilibrium by increasing chaos.

Every family creates its own balance to achieve some sort of stability. As long as family members interact in certain familiar and predictable ways, this balance, or equilibrium, is not upset.

Glenn upset his family balance by telling the truth. He explained:

It was amazing. I was like a leper. Nobody wanted to talk to me. Like, who was I to make accusations? They treated me like I didn't exist. I couldn't take being ignored by my family anymore. So I shut up about the drinking. I didn't talk about it for another twenty years… until now.

I asked Glenn whether his attempt to expose the truth had had any lasting effect on family interactions.

One day when I was about twenty, I decided I was going to confront my father about his drinking. I was terrified to do it, but I knew something was wrong. I decided to tell my father that I didn't like the way he acted when he was drunk, and I didn't want him to do it anymore. It was amazing what happened. My mother jumped to his defense, making me feel guilty for even bringing it up. My father denied everything. I looked to my sisters for support, but they just tried to make peace. I felt terrible, like I'd done something awful. The fact is, I'd exposed a truth: that my father was an alcoholic. But I just ended up feeling crazy for even trying.

In Glenn's family, everyone had a role designed to perpetuate the family system. Dad's role was to drink; Mom played the co-dependent; and, in a reversal of roles, the children played parents. This was predictable and familiar and therefore felt safe. When Glenn tried to challenge these roles, he threatened the balance. His punishment was exile to an emotional Siberia.

HOW TOXIC PARENTS COPE

It doesn't take much to kick off a crisis in a toxic family system: Father loses his job, a relative dies, an in-law moves in, a daughter starts spending too much time with a new boyfriend, a son moves out, or Mother gets sick. As Glenn's family did when he tried to confront his father's drinking, most toxic parents respond to crisis with denial, secrecy, and, worst of all, blame. And that blame always targets the children.

In a relatively well-functioning family, parents tend to cope with life pressures by working out problems through openly communicating, exploring options, and not being afraid to seek outside help if they need it. Toxic parents, on the other hand, react to threats to their balance by acting out their fears and frustrations, with little thought for the consequences to their children. Their coping mechanisms are rigid and familiar to them. Among the most common:

Projection. Projection also has two faces: parents may accuse the child of the very inadequacies they suffer from, and they may blame the child for the toxic behaviors that result from their inadequacies. For example, an inadequate father who can't hold down a job will accuse his son of being lazy and shiftless; an alcoholic mother will blame her daughter for causing the unhappiness that drives her to drink. It is not unusual for toxic parents to use both kinds of projection to avoid taking responsibility for their own behavior and their own deficiencies. They need to find a scapegoat, and it's often the most vulnerable child in the family.

Denial. As you've seen throughout this book, denial is often the first coping mechanism to which toxic parents resort to regain equilibrium. Denial has two faces: "nothing is wrong" and "something was wrong but it won't happen again." Denial minimizes, discounts, jokes away, rationalizes, or relabels destructive behavior. Relabeling -- a form of denial -- takes a problem and hides it behind euphemisms. An alcoholic becomes a "social drinker"; a batterer is a "strict disciplinarian."

Triangling. In a toxic family system, one parent will often enlist the child as a confidant or ally against the other parent. Children become part of an unhealthy triangle in which they are being pulled apart by the pressure to choose sides. When Mom says, "I'm miserable with your father," or Dad says, "Your mom won't sleep with me anymore," the child becomes an emotional dumping ground, allowing the parents to relieve themselves of some of their discomfort without having to face the source of their problems.

Sabotage. In a family with a severely dysfunctional parent -- crazy, drunk, ill, or violent -- other family members will assume the roles of rescuers and caretakers. This creates a comfortable balance of weak/strong, bad/good, or sick/healthy. If the dysfunctional parent starts to get better or enters a treatment program, this can severely threaten the family balance. The rest of the family (especially the other parent) may unconsciously find ways to sabotage the dysfunctional parent's progress so that everyone can return to his or her familiar role. This can also happen if a troubled child starts to improve. I have seen toxic parents pull their child out of therapy when the child shows signs of becoming healthier.

Keeping secrets. Secrets help toxic parents cope by turning their families into private little clubs to which no outsiders are admitted. This provides a bond to pull the family together, especially when the family balance is threatened. The child who hides abuse by telling her teacher that she fell down the stairs is protecting the family club from outside interference.

Understanding is the beginning of change. It opens new options and choices. But seeing things differently is not enough. True freedom can come only from doing things differently.

When you look at toxic parents from the perspective of the family system -- their beliefs, their rules, and your obedience to those rules -- a lot of your self-destructive behavior comes into focus. You come closer to understanding the powerful forces that drive so much of your parents' behavior and ultimately your own.