Raised By An Undiagnosed ASPD Parent

Letting go of the trauma

As my journey toward healing from severe trauma and mental illness continues, I am beginning to acknowledge the origins of it all: what the traumas I experienced early in my life were, how they shaped who I am throughout the years, how their long-lasting effects still linger over my physical, mental, and emotional health, and all the other numerous facets of the complex process of healing from trauma and reclaiming your true identity.

One of the most “dramatic” and life-changing discoveries along this path was the realization that one of my parents suffers from ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder) and that it was primarily* this undiagnosed mental disorder that made them the abusive monster that tormented me and the rest of my family during my childhood. This was a turning point for me and one that came both with positives and negatives.

The main positives were in the realization that, as a child, I was not to blame for being undeserving of my caretaker’s love and affection, which was a conviction that haunted not only my younger self but also and especially my adult self. My internalized sense of guilt and self-loathing came from the erroneous assumption that the reason one of my primary caretakers abused me verbally, psychologically, emotionally, and physically on a regular basis, was that I must have been bad and that I deserved to be treated like that. A child does not know better than to blame themselves for their parents’ unjust treatment of them, and that’s what I did.

With the awareness that one of my parents suffered from ASPD came the awareness that this person was not able to experience or express any form of love and affection, which freed me from the lifelong conviction that the problem was me, and not them. Looking back, I can see how most of my caretaker’s emotional states always revolved around feelings of anger, hatred, and aggression. They did not know what it meant to love or to genuinely care for others. They weren’t able to feel any empathy towards others. What they felt was a constant need to assert their authority, power, and worth by inflicting pain and humiliation on others. And they were extremely successful at that.

The negatives of this discovery involved the acknowledgment that simply being aware of this truth did not erase decades of severe trauma and abuse, nor the grief that comes with the experience of being raised knowing that one of your parents not only does not love you, but also seems to loathe you for reasons unknown to you, and takes almost any chance available to harm you in some way. The cycle of abuse is simply too strong and repetitive for it to not be imprinted in your mind forever.

As I reflected upon my experience of being raised by a parent with undiagnosed ASPD and another parent who was just as oblivious to this condition as I was, I had to come to terms with the fact that one, critical parental figure had always been missing in my life, that not only was I robbed of the experience of being raised by two “normal” and caring parents, but that, instead, one of them had been replaced by an individual incapable of feeling any empathy towards others, not even their own children.

For those of you who have never met somebody affected by ASPD, there is something deeply disturbing and uncanny about the experience: to face somebody who is incapable of feeling empathy towards any human being simply feels wrong. It gives you a visceral feeling that the person you’re facing is not human at all, but something else. That one “missing part” — their lack of empathy — affects their mental framework and view of the world in a way that is deeply twisted and distorted.

There is a sense of irreversible loss that comes with acknowledging the fact that one of your parents was always incapable of loving you in the first place and that they never will. And it’s perfectly normal to grieve over that loss. What is important is to recognize the truth for what it is: that you were never to blame, that neither you nor anybody else could have done anything to change that person, and, now that you are aware of this, it’s time to focus your energy and attention on you, not them.

I would like to conclude by specifying two things: first, that not everybody who suffers from ASPD is an abuser. And, second, a diagnosis of ASPD does not condone one’s actions, even when that person is unaware of their diagnosis, and especially when that person’s condition ends up inflicting enormous amounts of pain on others. The harmful consequences of my ASPD parent’s behavior had irreversible effects on myself, my siblings, my other parent, and on countless other people that I’ve encountered in my life and with whom I wasn’t able to establish a healthy relationship because of the toxic relationship model I had internalized as a child — which I am now slowly and rather painfully learning to unlearn.

The journey toward recovery is happening, and it starts with recognizing and voicing the truth.

* As with most mental illnesses that do not involve psychotic or dissociative states, I recognize the degree of personal responsibility that people with ASPD have over their actions, which is why, while acknowledging the disabling effects of ASPD on my parent’s mind, I still hold them and only them accountable for their actions.

Want to keep reading? Check out these similar articles:

Sign up for Medium through the author’s affiliate link and get instant access to unlimited articles, or show the author your support and appreciation by buying her a coffee!