I've been thinking about this a lot lately, ever since I got very sick in December after top surgery, and suddenly, much of my life was put in perspective. Things that I thought were in the background turned out to be very much in the foreground, and vice versa - some positives, some negatives, maybe net neutral, I don't know.
Without going into details, which undoubtedly prompt anger and sympathy, neither of which will help, I'll simply say this: I made a list of the most damaging ways in which I was abused by my mother and some other family members starting at about the age of 4, and it's really quite bad. My father doesn't know about most of it (especially not the worst of it), and while he is sometimes an irredeemable jerk, he's never been what I would consider abusive toward anyone in my family. I've already severed ties with my aunt and uncle who either were abusive or were witness to it at various points well into my twenties.
Since confronting my own mortality late last year, it like each day, I look at this photograph of who I am, and what's shaped me, and the picture's developed just a but more. I can't escape the reality that is facing me, and has been for years.
If I sever ties with my mother and sister, I'm likely to lose my dad, and certainly, to lose the very limited connection that I have with any of my cousins or their children unless I actually tell them the reasons. Even if I told my dad or my cousins, I'm not sure that they would believe me. Sure, I could say that if they don't believe me, they aren't worth keeping in touch with, but it's not that simple.
I don't want to lose my dad, but I can't even hear my mother's voice anymore without feeling physically ill, and even if I forgive my sister's abuses, we can't stand each other in most cases, and I only make her more depressed anyway. Except for my dad, everyone in my family would rather I not exist, and frankly, I would rather have no contact with them. There are things that it's not a matter of me forgiving, some things just cannot be forgiven at all. Some of it has to do with being "punished" for being trans, but most of the worst of it happened after I realized that I was a not a girl (~age 5), but before I began socially transitioning (age 12).
I hate this. I hate being in this position. But at this point, I really can't keep in contact with my mother, because it just keeps hurting me.
Has anyone else had to cut ties with their family, but managed to still see one parent or sibling? Can it be managed that way? Should I tell my father what happened? What if he divorces her? My mother's very ill, and can't work. Even though I can't forgive her, and would never trust her, I have enough Catholic guilt in me to pity a sick person.
I really don't know what the solution is here.