Who’s There? Raised By a Father With Avoidant Personality Disorder

While my father has been a long-time undiagnosed sufferer of APD, or avoidant personality disorder, I’m just now recognizing how deeply it has affected me to my core–especially because my mother also suffers from a personality disorder. Anxiety, stress, addiction, and compulsion have been part my life since I was young–so it has always been normal to feel ‘not normal.’

My reaction to having emotionally-distant parents showed its face in social situations, even as a child. I would refuse to speak to people on the phone, ashamed of the way my voice sounded. I would cling to my father’s arms in the store, afraid of social interactions with strangers. When I did speak up, it was usually whispering in elementary school, where I either received a reprimand or a lower grade. In those situations, I was not encouraged to overcome these avoidant tendencies, but instead either teased or criticized for my reluctance and generally shy demeanor–and was driven further into emotional reclusion.

By the time I reached middle school, I was an awkward, gangly mess, and was teased relentlessly. Neither of my parents would ever ask me why I came home sullen, and they didn’t know how to deal with me when I would listen to music alone in my bedroom, sometimes stifling sobs. I felt isolated, misunderstood, and misrepresented.

It is no surprise that those with avoidant parents are very likely to develop avoidant attachments themselves–especially those children genetically predisposed to shyness, anxiety, and introversion. In perhaps the most famous study of attachment styles, John Bowlby examined the reactions of infants to their parents both leaving the room and coming back into it. He discovered that they generally fell into two categories: those who were anxious, crying intensely, and longing for their parents, and those who displayed a brief period of discomfort, but then went about playing with their toys and content to just be.

From this data, Bowlby theorized that children who perceived their primary attachment figures–Daddy or Mommy–to be nearby, accessible, and attentive were the ones who explored their environment with self-assuredness and confidence even when not yet a year old. He concluded that those children who cried or searched frantically for their parents were those who felt “no” to be the answer: the need and longing for an attentive and emotionally-available parent was too strong to feel “safe” when left alone.

While the clinical factors for the onset and continued development of APD are varied, there is a clear link between childhood trauma and neglect–emotionally, physically, or spiritually–with those who suffer from this condition. In fact, children who experience parental absence, abuse, or excessive codependency are four times more likely to develop a personality disorder than those that grow up in an effectively-functioning household; avoidant personality disorder is generally the most common seen in these cases, and can sometimes be meshed with other personality disorders as well.

Though my father would rarely–if ever–talk about his childhood or his parents, there were references to extreme household rigidity, obedience, and verbal attacks. Even when I began my journey to understanding more about my parents’ upbringing, it was met with either silence, vague details, or annoyance. This same reluctance was one more way I felt I myself was neglected: Why can’t my parents ever open up to me about anything personal or serious? I learned emotions and struggles were things to be feared.