Trigger Warning
Whenever I see the title of the Stately Homes thread I smile to myself.
Growing up I didn't live in a Stately Home, though it was big and gorgeous, by anyone's standards.
However, my parents are champagne socialists. Dad worked, they sunk all of their money into that house. One summer I had a growth spurt and literally nothing to wear. We went to the local comp, where I was bullied mercilessly, until I got to year 10 and I started to be a rebel.
Meanwhile, my parents, both of them, used to beat me black and blue. They broke bones too many times. They called me 'stupid, ugly and fat' and many other things. It wasn't a picnic for my siblings, but I undoubtedly was the scapegoat, I copped the worst of everything.
But this was the 80s, Childline was starting up as I became an adult. Our local hospital told the Police, but nice middle class people with big houses and good local connections were a law unto themselves.
Eventually my Dad retired, his pension is huge.
My DCs are adults now, I brought them up well, loved them as much as any parent could, I never hit them or called them names. They didn't live in a huge house, but they always had enough.
I've got a PhD. I'm not fat. I have been grey rock-ing my family for a decade, DH has been very supportive. I should have done it sooner, but you only know what you know. Since I left home at age 16 I have never taken a penny from them.
When my first DC went to Uni my parents invited them to stay, they paid off student finance and paid them a lot of money to live through University. They told my next DC and the same happened for them and so on. The price? Our DCs aren't speaking to us, they won't have anything to do with us.
DH is upset, but takes the attitude that we have done all we can and that he can wait it out, that our DCs will come round.
Me? I'm devastated. In particular, one of my DCs has said some hateful things to me. That'll be my parent's influence.
I'd always had such close relationships with my DCs, I know this sounds over dramatic, I feel bereaved, eviscerated.
Additionally, I'm peri. I cannot stop crying. I cry in stupid places: the car, work, supermarket, night out, night in, anywhere.
DH is right, that I need to find a way to move on, I don't know how. DH doesn't have any family either, it's just the two of us. After 30 years bringing up children I hate my career and I no longer have any family. My life is pointless.
I know that there are plenty worse off than me.
If you're going to say that I'm a poor little rich girl please don't comment, I am broken.