It’s never too late to drive out of your fucked-up childhood; FLOOR IT!
You don’t have to stay married to it, though you’ll drag it through your life like the cans tied to your back bumper after the wedding, and every time you stop the car to think it over, those cans will bash the back of your brain.
So, as a man in a bar on the west coast of Ireland said one morning,“don’t think alone.”
Get to the therapy garage, go up on the rack ( yes, this metaphor’s getting a lot of mileage on it, but who cares? ) and lose the cans, one by one.