Hey there, Nobody's Daughter. It sounds like you're in a pretty awful place right now, and I'm very sorry to hear what you're going through. As an estranged son myself, I can definitely understand that there is an entire host of complicated feelings to struggle with when you are cut off from a family member close to you. I wish I had some kind of answer about what to do or how to make things better, but I don't, other than to just keep trying to extend that branch and hope that he'll be willing to reach back at some point.
That being said, I would like to talk a little bit about the guilt that you're feeling right now. It seems like you may be blaming yourself for this separation, on account of remaining in an abusive relationship. And while I can understand that there may be a causal connection between this and your son separating from you, I don't think it's fair for you to blame yourself or take responsibility for a situation in which you were ultimately a victim. I know it can feel like you should've known better, or been able to make better decisions at the time, but we are all of us ultimately human. We make mistakes, lose our way, and can't always see everything.
Moreover, we grow attachments to people. And even when things are bad or abusive, there are all kinds if reasons why we as humans try to hold on anyway. We are social creatures, that's just what we do. Maybe the idea of trying to go it alone was frightening and more than you could bear. There's all the time and effort and emotional investment you already put into this person trying to make things work, which would feel wasted if things fell apart. And, perhaps moreso than anything else, I can only imagine you truly cared about this person and didn't want to let them go. There's a reason it is extremely common for people to remain in abusive relationships for a really long time. You're not alone in this, and it's not your fault. So if you're blaming yourself for that part of it, don't. Holding on is completely understandable.
As to why your son might not be talking to you, I'd like to share a little bit of my own perspective as an estranged son.
My father is not currently a part of my life. We don't talk to each other at all. There's been pretty huge mistakes on both sides, and I don't think either one of us are ready to move past them. I think the hardest part is feeling like reaching out can open old wounds again. If we start talking again, then at some point it's inevitable that we'll start talking about some of the things that happened, and dredging up old grievances on both sides. But despite everything that went wrong when we were connected, I don't want to hurt him. And I would imagine that he also doesn't want to hurt me. Getting past that fear, the need for silence so as to not poke the bear, that's really hard.
But my dad actually isn't the most relevant issue here, because I'm also partly estranged from my mom. This one is a little more complicated in nature. We're not exactly 'estranged' so much as I've become distant. We still see each other, I visit about once a month or so. We talk, we do things together once in a while. But I'm a hermit. If I come over for a visit, it's either because she and my brother practically begged me to, or because I forced myself to make the time for it out of a need to make sure my family is okay and not too worried about me, and definitely not because I really wanted to. There's this sense of repulsion, of not wanting to be around my mom, and feeling rather uncomfortable when I am, that keeps me away most of the time. And when we are together, it's very difficult for me to open up and really be present. It's been this way for about six years now.
As to why...I expect it's rather similar to your son. My mother has had nothing but abusive relationships, for basically my entire life. Since I was a child, there have been three men, one of which was my dad, and all of whom were emotionally abusive in one way or another. I've been surrounded by bitter fighting and extreme emotional tension for a good portion of my early life. And it sucks. When you're in that position, when a parent, someone you love, is in that kind of position, you feel responsible for it. You want to fix it. You want to make it better somehow. And when you can't, that injures you. It leaves wounds on a person that even i myself haven't fully come to recognize or learn to address yet.
So, when the third abusive man in my mom's life that I was around to see wanted to sell the house and take my mom several states away where she had no friends, family, or social support network at all, I was quite obviously against it. But...she went. And I let go. I had to. I had to learn to let go, to release my emotional hold on my mom and focus on my own life, because the alternative was to spend every waking minute worried about her, panicking about how she was doing, and living in a constant state of anxiety over whether or not she was going to be okay. And all of this while I had my own life to live, and my own attachments and responsibilities to be there emotionally for my partner, the person I'd decided to devote myself to and build my life around. I couldn't live like that. Couldn't be nauseated with worry all the time, living on eggshells with no outlet for the anxiety, and still be able to live my own life. So I let her go. I let go.
The trouble is, when things went south and she came back home, I couldn't find a way to grab back on again.
Sometimes, when we get hurt in a certain way, we end up with scars. We're animals after all, however intelligent we may otherwise be. So when we're wounded, certain instincts develop to protect us from being hurt again. In my case, whatever my mind or heart feels, my body learned that being too close to my mom means going back to that place, to fear and anxiety and worry, if my mom ever winds up back in a relationship again. I'll never be able to trust it, never be comfortable or free from anxiety, because experience has taught me that my mom will always gravitate to people who will hurt her. And my body's solution to this is to put up barriers, create emotional distance, so that I can't really be close to her again.
And the worst part is? It's not her fault. If pressed, I'd tell her the same exact thing that I would tell you. That she's a victim, that getting sucked into these relationships was understandable, that holding on was only human. I certainly don't blame her for it, and I definitely don't hate her for it. At least not consciously. My body may have some say in this, there are some resentments I cannot help feeling, but that isn't a choice I make with my heart or with my mind, so I don't think that really counts. Ultimately, I love my mother, I want the best for her, and I want her to be okay.
But I'll never really be open with her or close in the way that I used to be again. I've been hurt by that closeness, felt it turn into a poison that left me in a very bad place for a long time. I don't know how to move past that. I want to. And I'm learning, bit by bit, how go reclaim at least a little bit of that emotional presence and vulnerability, especially as time and distance begin to dull the wounds. Healing this kind of trauma is a slow process, and it can't be rushed. I'm six years in, so I know.
A part of me is worried that I might have turned this into a little bit of a self-pity party, but that is not the intent. I bring up the separation I feel from my mom because I suspect that you and your son may be in the same position. If your son has pulled away from you in such an extreme manner, there's most likely some kind of reason for it. Some sort of underlying wound that needs time and distance and barriers in order to begin to heal. And also, like with me and my mom, I very much doubt that he hates you, or really blames you for being in an abusive relationship, at least not consciously. There's probably some resentment, there certainly is in my case, but probably not the kind he chooses or wants to be there. In all likelihood, this is a person who's been hurt, the separation is a protection mechanism designed to give that hurt space to heal and scar over, and he may not even really have a say in the matter. As much as I believe in free will, I can also acknowledge that we're not always given a choice in some things. My own separation certainly didn't feel like one, and it absolutely isn't something I want. But there you have it.
All this to say, there's a lot more going on that just you making a mistake and having to take responsibility for it. This is a situation in which I don't think anyone involved can really shoulder the blame. You got hurt. He's been hurt. You're both hurt, and you're both in a place where you're trying to do what you need to in order to heal. It's just that what he needs right now is hurting you, and what you needed back then clearly hurt him. Sometimes life just happens that way.
As to what you can do now...like I said, I don't have any easy answers for you. I can say that trying to understand your son, where he's coming from and why he pulled away, can possibly go some way towards helping the process. There was a point where my mom acknowledged that the tumult of her relationship life hurt me, and she didn't want me to be a part of that. She said she understood why I let go, and tried to tell me that it was okay, that I should have my own life and not have to worry about hers. It obviously hasn't fixed everything, but it did show me she cares. It showed me that she saw, at least a little bit, what it did to me, and that she wants me to be okay. That helped. What little progress I've made in opening back up and learning how to be close again was built on the desire to return that same kind of acceptance and understanding. So perhaps all you can really do right now is to try and keep that line open, let your son know that you're still there when he's ready, and perhaps try to find some way to understand why he pulled away in the first place, and to show him that you understand. And even if you can, this isn't going to get better for a long time. These things heal slowly.
Just...try not to hold yourself responsible for it. You're a human being. You want connection. You want to love and be loved, to have someone there to talk to and be with, someone to make the hard days worth it. That's all. And pursuing that, even when things go wrong and people close to you get hurt, that can't be a crime. It simply can't.
