Made Of Glass

What does it feel like when people look at you and stare right through you as if you are made of glass?  I have often described my own life feeling as if I am sitting in a small glass room; I can see out of the room but my need for help goes unheard.

“Glass Child” syndrome in most cases is caused because one sibling has a chronically ill or disabled sibling.  This was the case of my late husband.  His sister was mentally disabled caused by a high fever as a child.  In my own case my mother no longer wanted to be a mother and was pregnant again and beating on her children.  My Father was working two jobs to support us all and asked me if I could help him out with my siblings so my mother could have a break.

Glass Children learn to take care of their own needs and ask for very little.  They are seen as highly mature and even-tempered.  This causes other grown-ups to like them because they are very responsible young people.  In my own case I was also concerned for my Father’s health.  He had several very serious heart attacks and I was scared all the time that if I misbehaved or didn’t help him out with my siblings . . . he might die.

This also had a bad effect. . . when someone in our family touched me in an improper manner, I felt I couldn’t tell my Father and I had to deal with the situation on my own.  The person who did this was someone loved dearly by my Father and respected since the time of his own Father’s death.  As young as I was when this happened I knew telling my Father of the incident would also devastate him.

When a Glass Child has to deal with an intensive needs sibling they learn quickly “that” child has the most power in the family system because they require extra attention and care.  My mother was that person who required all this ‘extra’ attention.  She was also abusive and I kept her behavior from my Father so he didn’t have to worry more than he needed to.  I took the blame and the beatings for things my siblings did so I didn’t have to watch them being abused.

This can cause Glass Children to feel guilty or have negative feelings towards siblings.  In my case my mother’s abuse was also aimed at me. . . I grew to fear her and hate her.

Glass Children often become perfectionists or deal with anxiety disorders, depression, obsessive compulsive disorders and eating disorders.  I also dealt with Bipolar Disorder along with some of those other disorders associated with being a Glass Child.  I also dealt with traditional gender roles of being an eldest daughter.

I had to take on the role of parent and had to do extra household work.  I felt like the ‘experiment’ child.  My siblings were not punished for things I got punished with, nor were they expected to do household jobs because it was easier for me to do them rather than to train another child to do the jobs.  One of the worst fights between my parents was over this subject.  My Father walked out slamming the door and my mother grabbed me by the hair blaming me for the whole thing. . .  and the beatings began.

I also saw another cost of what this did to my Father.  My Father unintentionally caused the parentification of me with statements like: “You’re so helpful,” “I never have to worry about you,”  “You’re always so considerate and never argue back like your brother’s and sisters.”  Glass Children learn to be ‘good’ and put our siblings before ourselves, being good also kept us clear from negative attention.  This turns us into people-pleasers. 

In the end my Father’s last words to me were in the form of an apology for not being a better Father to me.  I knew why he was telling me this but my first instinct was to protect him.  I told him to ‘never’ say that again.  His very final words to me were him telling me how proud he was of me.  Two days later he was dead from a massive heart attack.  His heart just exploded.

I held it together for his funeral looking out in a daze and feeling nothing but total loss.  One of my Father’s best friends came up to me and said, “You’re Father was always so proud of you.”  I lost it.  My legs went weak and I cried out.  I thought my cries echoed through that whole building.  My Aunt grabbed a hold of me and walked me out of the building.

All of my life I took care of the needs of my siblings while everyone else looked through me like a glass window.