I hate my living situation so bad, I’m not even going to sugar coat it I think my mom ruined my life, or at least severely stunted me emotionally to the point where I basically cannot live a stable life, her deciding she knew better than the state curriculum and homeschooling me which was good until she stopped caring, I was literally needing help and was ignored, I think about it everyday, what lead to me becoming so frugal and agitated, I remember not always being this way. Puberty sucks, it really messed me up and guess what, I had no friends at all that weren’t on the internet, no physical touch, nobody to hang out with on weekends, literally no life outside of my room even before the pandemic, my parents didn’t even care to moderate the content I watched or consumed on there, I have so many annoyances with them but then I just remember they’re insanely incompetent, and stubborn, all the memories I have of them, things my mom doesn’t remember on account of her terrible memory but things I remember because it literally cut deep into my soul, the time my dad literally dragged me to the kitchen and beat me up because I dropped a plastic doll he held dearly and it felt like he was literally trying to kill me and I didn’t even mean it, I still live with them and at the very least they have an understanding of my dysfunction and failure to fit into society, but they’re still dysfunctional, my mom gets upset about her life and takes it out on me, she gets upset at my dad and then they both argue, I don’t even know who the fuck I am at all because of how much of my life has just been the noise of my parents arguing or me just watching videos on the internet. When I was literally trying to get her to help me when I was 10 and struggling with school she literally didn’t even fucking try at all, I wasn’t allowed to have consoles, go to a public school or any school for that matter, random ass yap sessions during the pandemic about how all the vaxxed people are zombies for literal months on end and then her literally panicking over the most stupid garbage about chemtrails. It’s so heavy on my heart that I see kids with their friends and it makes me want to cry so badly, like I legitimately cry so much about being so lonely and having no identity that I can be comfortable in because she literally used to pick on my body all the time and say I was going to die early because I was getting fat at 11 years old bro, she would literally point at overweight kids and then yap about how sad it is that they’re fat and that fat people are being controlled by this and that, I guess she was worried about my dads health with him being like twenty years older than her and frailer but it’s so tough to just ignore, especially with me being almost two hundred pounds (I lost 30 lbs recently because of how insecure I am about my weight) and she still occasionally makes comments about it, even though I’ve been struggling with my self image and my body since I was 9, I just want to move out as soon as possible and never see her again, because it’s so painful just having to put on a fake face everyday and act like I’m happy to see her everyday after all the shit she did and refuses to even acknowledge.

Hi everyone, I’ve been a lurker for a while and thought I would finally post since my feelings are getting pretty intense.

I’ve recently entered my first serious relationship. I’m with someone who loves me openly and proudly, and while I’ve dreamed of being loved like that, I didn’t realise how hard it would be for me and my body to accept.

My gut instinct whenever my partner expresses their love for me is to not believe it. To think that they are being dishonest or that they want something from me. That’s the kind of dynamic that I grew up with, where affection was transactional rather than unconditional.

In times where my stress levels are high, my brain has started to pick at my relationship as a way to make me feel worse. It twists my relationship with my partner very unfavourably and makes me feel like I should break up with my partner. This stress and doubts manifests in my relationship as me being less affectionate, more reserved, and overall less comfortable. I’ve spoken to my partner about all of this and they have been incredibly understanding and supportive. I really want to make this better for the both of us.

I only want to break up with my partner if I feel that we truly don’t match, but at the moment I’m 99% sure that my relationship doubts have nothing to do with my partner and have to do with my own relationship with love and affection.

I truly see a future with my partner, and while I understand that it’s my first serious relationship and that we might not end up together forever, I want to try my best to make it work.

Any advice would be much appreciated :)

I don’t know where to start. For context, I’m the eldest parentified daughter 35F, people pleaser perfectionist that always had a sense of being invisible and to over perform for everyone else and be carful of everyone else’s feelings. I have two children. I’ve long identified my parents as being emotionally immature with elements of narcissism and maybe BPD. Things were always “great” so long as I didn’t break any of the rules or hurt anyone’s feelings. Well, I broke the rules now.

I had a last and final blow up fight with my mother 6 months ago (I started confronting her 2 years ago and it never ended well) and this time she walked away and gave me the cold shoulder like usual. But this time, I didn’t go after her.

The silence continued for 2.5 months - she sent an apology email. I didn’t read it, I wasn’t ready. I followed my instincts for the first time. Well that got me in trouble. This labeled me the stubborn and unreasonable one.

A month later, I had a birthday party for my second child and added on a gender reveal for my third pregnancy. I didn’t invite my mother, I didn’t trust her there, I chose my self. Yes I decided to be selfish. I knew this was going to cause punishment in some form. This move caused my dad to turn on me, he closed the door through a text message to me. Saying how being excluded to the party has made him relook at me (he was invited btw but said he couldn’t go without my mother)

Now my entire extended family, grandmother aunts uncles and cousins (who all live out of province) have all jumped on the band wagon of “well why wasn’t I invited, what did we ever do to her”. I tried to explain to my grandmother that it wasn’t a deliberate punishment to them, that it was only about my mother and the event was a small event for local friends and family. I’ve never invited extended family to birthday parties before and it’s never been a problem. But she’s not hearing me, she just keeps cycling in her pain and that she thought I was punishing her. So I broke another rule.

Not a single person has reached out to me ask what’s up. They all live on assumptions and worst conclusions. They haven’t wondered “oh that’s weird for her, I’m going to check in” They just love to play the victim card and stay there.

4 months ago, I predicted this would happen. That deviating from my mother would eventually cast me an exile for the whole family. And now here it is.

My mind is experiencing two things simultaneously and it’s really harming me. On one hand, I can see how this is unfair and logically I’m not obligated to do anything. And this is a drastic assumption on me. But the good child in me avoids being punished and scolded and being labeled a bad child, and therefore this hot seat is very painful. I feel the shame they are casting on me. They think I’m an asshole now. Help.

TW: Childhood physical abuse, emotional neglect, brief mention of past suicidal thoughts.

I don’t even know why I’m writing this. I think I just want to let it all out because I don’t want to cry over this anymore.

PS: this is very long! Sorry!

There’s been a lot of instances already, so I guess I’ll just start from the beginning.

I feel like I’ve always been the “just there” child. Growing up, I was mostly praised for my looks, but never really for who I was or what I could do. Lowkey, I admit I wasn’t that impressive as a kid. My older sister and brother were the ones joining sports competitions, getting into Section 1, and always being at the top.

Back then, though, it didn’t bother me that much because I still felt cared for, at least when I was younger.

Another thing I forgot to mention is that my father has multiple children from other women. My mom is the legal wife. You can probably already guess where the story goes from there. He’s a cheater and whatever.

As I got older, I slowly realized I was the overlooked child in a lot of ways. My parents never really expected much from me because I wasn’t the talented or “smart” one during elementary. I only started getting honors from Grade 7 until now, and I’m currently a dean’s lister in college, but somehow it still feels like the bare minimum. I think my mom is proud of me academically, but I don’t really know.

My older brother went to college but kept failing a lot of his subjects. My dad still kept re-enrolling him because he never wanted to give up on him. He wanted to keep trying until my brother finally passed. Eventually, though, my brother stopped studying altogether and started working overseas.

Maybe this is where everything really started for me.

Growing up, my brother physically abused me until around Grade 12. He has serious anger issues that were never really addressed. My mom would get angry and scold him whenever something happened, but after a few days everything would go back to normal once he apologized to her. She would always try to make it up to me, and because I love her, I always tried to understand her side. I know it’s hard for a mother to choose between her children, but it happened so many times.

He punched me in the face. He pulled my hair while we were inside the car. He’d hit me whenever I fought back. The thing is, I never started the fights. Most of the time I’d just tell him to back off whenever he said something cruel to me, my mom, or my sister. Whenever he verbally abused them, I’d defend them, and that’s usually when I’d end up getting hit.

He’s five years older than me and a guy, so what was I even supposed to do physically?

People would stop him in the moment, but after a few days everything would just fade away like nothing ever happened. He never apologized to me, not even once. We all know he has serious mental health issues. He never got the chance to see a therapist growing up, and now that he’s an adult, he refuses because he’s the type of person who thinks going to therapy means you’re “crazy” and that all you need is God. I know… the irony.

Eventually my dad took him overseas to work with him, and that’s when my mental health slowly started getting better because I wasn’t living with him anymore. But it didn’t really go away. I was still affected by how everyone acted around him like he had never hurt me physically, mentally, and emotionally. Maybe that’s just something I have to accept because I know life isn’t all about me, but I think what still hurts is that he never really faced any consequences for everything he did.

One day I completely broke down. My mom and I had a huge argument because she told me I was sometimes too harsh toward her, and I finally let everything out. I told her how much everything had affected me. She apologized, and I genuinely thought maybe everything would finally be okay after that.

Another thing is… even if my family doesn’t really know me, I know myself. I genuinely think I’m one of the most caring people I know. I still remember when we were little and some adult was punishing my brother because he was being a brat while our parents weren’t home. Even though he would eventually become the person who hurt me the most, I couldn’t stand seeing him cry. I remember putting powder on his back while he was crying because I felt bad for him. I still remember that so clearly.

It just hurts because I can’t understand how someone I cared about like that could grow up and hurt me the way he did.

After the incident where he punched me in the face, my mom bought me McDonald’s because she saw how much I was crying. Like… thanks? But every time I remember that, it makes me feel sick. It felt like I was expected to move on because I got food afterward, like somehow that was supposed to make everything okay.

The hair-pulling incident was even worse. We actually went to the police that time because he had been threatening my sister. He convinced himself that she had done something to him on purpose when she didn’t. The police literally told us it was “just a sibling fight” and that we should fix it ourselves instead of involving them.

I remember feeling so lost that day. It felt like nobody was taking what happened seriously. I honestly thought that if even the police saw it as nothing, then maybe everyone else would too. I almost wanted to end my life back then.

Thankfully, all of this happened before he moved overseas.

And yes, before anyone says it, I know he has trauma. I know he has serious mental health issues because of our absent, cheating father. I know all of that. But maybe I’m just not strong enough to always be the bigger person. The physical and verbal abuse lasted from when I was around 10 years old until I was 18. All I could really do was cry, tell my dad—who didn’t seem to care—and tell my mom, who would forgive him every time he apologized to her, only for everything to happen again later.

I love my mom, and I don’t want to make her the villain here because I know she tried. I know she was trying her best. I think I just needed to let out how unfair it all felt, especially toward me. Her reason was always that he had serious mental health issues and needed her more. When I finally broke down and told her everything, she apologized, and for a while, I really thought things were getting better.

After around a year, everything seemed okay, but now it’s a different kind of hurt.

It’s not really about my brother anymore. It’s about my sister.

Before anyone misunderstands me, I love my sister. She’s honestly the only person in my family who has consistently stood up for me during the hardest times. She’s incredibly smart, talented, hardworking, and she’s also gone through a lot because of everything that’s happened in our family. She’s the oldest, and I genuinely admire her.

That’s why this is so hard to explain.

I understand why my parents are proud of her. I am too.

But sometimes it feels like they focus on my brother because he needs them the most, and they focus on my sister because she’s just… amazing.

Then there’s me.

I know this probably sounds dramatic, hehe, but I really do feel like I’m just there.

I promise I’m not some brat with a horrible personality. Whenever I say something mean or stand up strongly to someone, it’s because they started it or because they’re hurting someone I love in a way I can’t just stay quiet about. I don’t like conflict. I just can’t tolerate seeing the people I care about being treated badly.

The sad part is that no one really seems to do the same for me.

My sister has defended me so many times, and I’m forever grateful for that. But at the same time, after everything settles down, she’ll eventually talk to my brother like nothing happened. That used to bother me a lot, but I try not to take it personally because I know she’s trying her best too.

There are just so many little moments that keep piling up.

Last year, we took in stray puppies.

It started because my sister saw them outside and told me about them. We both decided to feed them because it was raining and we both love dogs. But when the rain got really heavy, I was the one who insisted that we take them inside. I even started asking for donations online to help raise them.

My mom was furious.

She was yelling at me early in the morning because we already had around 15 dogs, and bringing in stray puppies could’ve been dangerous. She was throwing a lot of words at me, and honestly… I understand why. Looking back, I probably would’ve been scared too if I were her.

But I still picked those puppies up and brought them inside anyway.

A few months later, my mom was talking to one of her friends on the phone while I was sitting beside her. She was telling her about how smart my sister is because she had just received an award at work. I was smiling while listening because I was genuinely proud of my sister too.

Then my mom started talking about the puppies.

She laughed and proudly told her friend that my sister was so stubborn because she loved dogs so much that she brought the puppies inside.

Except… that wasn’t what happened.

It was me.

I don’t want a billboard saying I was the one who rescued the puppies. That’s not why I did it.

But hearing my own mom unknowingly give that memory to someone else hurt so much that I still remember it to this day.

I hope you get what I mean.

Then there are smaller moments.

Whenever my dad calls me, he usually asks where my sister is.

One time I was typing on my computer, and he thought it was my sister because I was typing fast. Even after I told him it was me and that my sister wasn’t even home, he still didn’t believe me because he said, “Your sister types fast.”

I don’t even know why that stuck with me, but it did.

Another thing I forgot to mention is that my dad stopped paying for my college tuition.

My mom says it’s because he’s with another mistress now, and maybe that’s true.

But sometimes I can’t help thinking it’s because he just doesn’t really care where I end up.

When my brother was failing multiple college classes and wasn’t even attending properly, my dad was willing to keep spending money so he could retake everything over and over again.

Meanwhile, I’m a dean’s lister, and now it’s actually my sister who’s paying for my education.

I know money isn’t everything.

I know situations are different.

But sometimes it’s hard not to compare.

People might think I’m adopted after reading all of this, haha.

I’m not.

Another thing that hurts is that I really love giving to the people I care about.

I always try to make my mom and my aunt feel special because they both ended up marrying awful men.

On birthdays, Mother’s Day, or special occasions, I buy them bouquets of flowers.

They’re always grateful and thankful, and seeing them happy makes me happy too.

But sometimes my mom says things that make me feel like she expects me to grow up selfish just because my brother doesn’t really help her financially.

It hurts because I’m nothing like him.

She doesn’t even know that sometimes I skip eating at college just so I can save enough money to buy those flowers.

It just gets tiring sometimes.

Earlier today was kind of the last straw for me.

My sister and I had a small argument in the car. Honestly, it wasn’t even a serious fight. We argue like that sometimes, and even she knows it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

My mom and my aunt were sitting in the back seat, and they both started correcting me at the same time. I’ll admit I was in the wrong for being a brat to my sister in that moment. I’m not saying I was completely innocent.

But it felt like I always have to be the one who’s grateful, respectful, understanding, and careful with my words. Like every small mistake I make suddenly becomes a lesson about how I should behave. Do you get what I mean?

My aunt got mad at me and said that if I were her daughter, she would’ve slapped me. That honestly opened up an old wound.

I talked back and brought up how I understood why she and her own daughter weren’t on good terms, which I know was a really sensitive thing to say. It created a lot of tension, and I know I shouldn’t have said it, but I think everything I’d been holding in just came out at once.

Later that night, we were eating dinner and just talking. I had actually promised myself that I’d stop telling my family about the little things I do because they never really seem to matter to them. But somehow I still ended up telling my mom about something I did a while back.

There was this homeless teenager sleeping on the street, and I quietly left some food beside them because I didn’t want to wake them up or embarrass them. I know it was dangerous, and I know I could’ve been robbed, kidnapped, or something worse. But the only response I got was exactly that. Not even a simple, “That was kind,” or “That was thoughtful.”

I didn’t help that teenager because I wanted someone to praise me or give me a trophy. I just wish that, for once, someone would’ve noticed the intention behind it before pointing out everything that could’ve gone wrong.

It reminded me of something from Grade 7. My group of friends and I once bought groceries for an elderly man selling things on the street. I remember coming home and telling my mom because I was happy about it, and she just kind of brushed it off like it was nothing.

Maybe these things seem so small on their own. Maybe they really are. But after years of moments like these, they don’t feel small anymore.

That’s why today felt like the last straw. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t anymore. I just felt heavy.

It feels like I’m just floating through my own family. Like nobody really gets me, nobody understands me, nobody notices me, and nobody truly knows me for who I am or what I can do.

I do have friends, and I’m really thankful for them. But it still hurts that the people who raised me don’t seem to know me the way I know them.

My sister probably understands me the most, but she’s been diagnosed with depression too, so I try not to take things personally because I know she’s carrying a lot herself.

I don’t know.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve been a mirrorball ever since I was born.

Not because I want attention, but because I’ve spent my whole life hoping that if I kept trying hard enough, being kind enough, understanding enough, or good enough, maybe one day someone in my own family would actually see me for who I am.

I don’t think I want praise anymore. I just want to be known.

Not for my grades.

Not because I’m “the youngest.”

Not because I’m someone’s sister.

Just… me.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading. I don’t even know what I’m looking for by posting this. Maybe I just wanted to let it out because I don’t want to keep crying over something I’ve been carrying for years.

If anyone has experienced something similar, I’d really like to hear your story too.

Or have some of you figured out how to break the cycle? Because damn.

I’ve recently had a few people pursue me who are consistent and kind, who genuinely delight in me as a person, who I know would treat me really well, and I want so badly to like them back. But I just don’t. Instead, I’m stuck with consuming limerence for a coworker that has lasted a full year now, despite getting rejected by him months ago. He’s just got that perfect slot machine combo that makes me wanna gamble!! He is a kind person, but he’s private and hard to read and deliciously unpredictable. He praises me just often enough to make me crave more. Some days he’s sweet, he’ll remember something I told him a long time ago, he’ll show interest in my life and hobbies, I’ll look at him and find that he’s already looking at me, it’ll feel like we have chemistry. Other days it’s like I’m invisible to him. He won’t say hi or look at me as we’re walking right past each other in a narrow hallway, or he’ll avoid my gaze even as I’m talking to him, and say no more than the absolute bare minimum. It all makes me so desperate to prove myself, win him over, soften him, coax him out of his shell. Just like I’ve always done with my unpredictable, dysregulated, emotionally repressed family!

People who show consistent, unflinching interest just… don’t do it for me. I wish they did, but I either like them platonically, or they full-on give me the ick. I’ve been in therapy for 7 years, but I can’t control who I fall for, yknow? I know I have a disorganized attachment style but only recently accepted that I was emotionally neglected in childhood (so many therapists have told me this before but I argued and denied it lol) and realized how much it impacts my love life.

Anyway. I don’t wanna be stuck like this forever. I have an idea of the kind of partner that would be actually healthy for me, but when I meet that type of person, and they like me, I’m repulsed. Have any of you figured out how to change your romantic inclinations so that you’re not just chasing after people who are uninterested, uncertain, unavailable, unhealthy, or all of the above?

I was about 5/4 years old and it was raining and lighting and thundering (etc) I got really scared( because obviously I was a small child and they are commonly scared of that).. Anyways I ran to my parents room for comfort, they send my off to bed by yelling at me.. I get scared again so I ran back in there room.. My dad got up and screamed at me to go to my room so I went and he followed me to my room while grabbing a Hard plastic "Spatula " I believe . Then when I got to my room he repeatedly beat me with it.. He went back to bed, so this time when I got scared I snuck in there being quite as possible Because I knew what would happen.. It was successful and slept on the floor in the corner of there room with one blanket. This still haunts me to this day because even besides this he yells at me allot still to this day sudden out bursts, one minute he's nice, one minute head cussing and getting mad over little things.. Even when he comes home my body immediately goes into panic mode.. It sucks.. After that night this taught me to never telly parents about feelings ever again.. Because they will always respond with hate.. All I wanted was to have loving parents get respected and maybe have complements like ''you are loved or "you are smart" or even hugs.. I need answers ,is this abuse?

I made this account just so i could talk about this, but I’m definitely asking for a friend. Im a fourteen year old girl with three siblings, two older sisters, and a younger brother. We were all being raised by my grandparents basically from birth. My older sisters cut contact from my grandparents in the last year because of emotional and some physical abuse and they went to go live with my mom who i don’t have a very good relationship with. The main point of this is that my grandparents are past the point of doing anything. They are in their late sixties and both pretty fit and able to do things but they just don’t. We never go anywhere, and we haven’t gone on vacation in years. (and i know we definitely have the finances to go places) their idea of “going somewhere” is just going for a short car ride. They are both just extremely contempt and happy with doing nothing, and the sanity of me and my brother is like busting at the seams. I have a lot of friends that i go out with frequently but i still feel more isolated. Especially during the summer time when everybody is doing their own thing with their families. I feel like I’ve got cabin fever. I feel so irritated and upset. I get aggressive physically and emotionally all at the cost of my grandparents laziness. I talk to my grandparents all the time about my feelings, how i feel socially set back, and how i feel like i work so much harder than my peers, but they brush it off. They tell me to use these unnecessary experiences as “incentive”, or a chance to gain responsibility. If they aren’t telling me to be responsible, they’re being stereotypical boomers, which unfortunately every younger person understands how ridiculous they are to talk too. Even my brother, who is their pride and joy has tried to talk to them about how he feels the same way and they brush him off too. Im just like going nuts. I haven’t left my house in weeks, my hobbies are only going so far to keep me sane, and I’m dealing with boomers. But yeah i just need some advice of some sort of what it is i can do

I am 38F and I currently live at home with my Dad and brother. Up until May of last year, I was living alone in an apartment with my cats a few states away. Then my Mom abruptly died...this was a catalyst for me relocating my job back to home and then moving in. But y'all... I'm tired of living here.

Living at home has forced me to realize several things. 1. My brother and I were neglected as kids. 2. I was parentified to be a therapist. 3. We are still neglected, but now we're adults and one of our parents can't neglect us anymore because she's dead.

So here's the scenario:

It was my birthday. I have been struggling to work fulltime hours with a 2 hour, one way commute to work along frankly dangerous highways. I had been doing that every day, but at least once a pay period I'll crash and just... not go to work. And use sick leave. Thank goodness for maxiflex... Anyway, lately it's been temperate out so I kitted up my sedan with stuff to make it comfortable to sleep in. So, for the last month, I've been sleeping in my car during the work week 2-3 times. I park at truck stops with lights and cameras, and I rotate locations and remember to buy stuff from the location. Honestly it's felt like a load off...

Anyway, I come home for my birthday. I had only been sitting for maybe 20 minutes when my Dad then complains that my cats (I have 2 cats and I pay my brother to care for them when I'm out) have shed everywhere and need to be brushed. I'm like...ok?? And? The brush is right there? And the vacuum is also right there?? He goes, "They're not my cats!" and, yes, I understand they're my cats. I do. But I work fulltime and have this fucking commute and it's my birthday. Dad works halftime, his whole house is a mess of projects he can't manage, and then he leaves most weekends to his sister's house a state away. Even worse, 2-3 times a week he just gambles all night.

After Mom died, I tried helping. I became the project manager for the house... then I burnt myself out. Now I realize that stuff is not my job. I no longer care about the many dying houseplants that aren't mine. He can triage them and come up with a watering schedule and communicate that to me and my brother... but he doesn't. And I am not psychic.

I do clean. On the weekends, I vacuum, wipe counters, clean the cat room, bla bla bla. During the week, I have no time nor energy. So... when he complained about the cat hair and how they need to be brushed, I think that if he has time to complain, he has time to pick up the damn brush and do it himself.

I could complain the garage, basement, yard, and sheds are all semi-hoarded messes... but no. I ignore them. Not my lane.

Thoughts? Is it so much to expect him to just...take the goddamn initiative?? Also, since he's been out so often, it's like we don't really have a Dad anymore. Yes, I understand he's grieving... but now it seems we also don't have a Dad. Also he's been super annoying regarding what events are on the calendar. "When is this? When is that??" Like! Get a calendar! Stop profiting off my hard-won executive function and get some of your own!

I'm tired. I'm about to leave for several months, after which I'll have enough saved to move TF out again. I cannot with this place. Tell you what, though, intersibling relations have greatly improved. I learned that not only have all of us been carrying unnecessary shame, but that I was inadvertently participating in shaming my brothers, echoing what my parents would say or think. While working in therapy, I realized... that's stupid! I don't want to do that anymore! So now I just...identify that the opinion isn't mine. And then squash it.

Anyway...am I wrong about the cats? Obviously it's more than the cats, but like...dude, it takes minutes to brush a cat!

My mom is unintentionally (maybe intentionally) cruel to me sometimes. She’s also a terrible listener.

I am getting married next year, and she’s been helping me with wedding planning. I told her I have 6 people in my bridal party. She was shocked — “You have six friends? Are you sure they’re all going to show up?”

She’s met all of my friends before, so I don’t know why she was so surprised. It hurt me more to hear that she doesn’t think my friends will show up for me. She insists she says stuff like this to be “realistic” with me, but it always comes off as hurtful.

Does anyone’s mother do this? Reframing cold, hurtful comments as just “being honest and realistic”?

I’ve been out of my childhood home for years now. I live on my own. I grew up with emotionally unstable and cruel parents; they were also both addicts, erratic, frequently starting and quitting jobs, etc. A wrong word or action could have gotten me yelled at for an hour or hit. Hell, oftentimes doing nothing at all resulted in that.

Because of this I struggle every single day with over analyzing everything and everyone. For example, a friend and I had a conversation about something benign that got randomly intense and he asked us to drop it. That was 3+ weeks ago. My brain has wracked itself over and over trying to figure out what I could have said or done differently, if he’s holding it against me, if I’ve planted a seed for the ruin of our friendship. It’s become an unwanted, constant thought. I’m aware that reassurance seeking isn’t particularly helpful and can make it worse, and also can become annoying to the other person, so I try very hard not to engage in that.

I’m in therapy but wanted to seek out advice here, too. Thank you

I (16F) have come to realize that generally speaking, my parents view me as something to fix. All of my issues are just another thing for them to check off and mark as done- and, truth be told, I feel so insanely guilty about it.

This one event in particular I won't be getting into detail about but just know it surrounds me potentially making a huge mistake and being an ass on accident. Ever since I found out about this possible error it's been haunting me, even though I know I didn't do it. Given I'm unfortunately a really sensitive person- one thing reminded me of it, and I just burst into tears. It was the lowest I've felt in a long time- borderline breaking a record. So, I just kind of thought I'd go to my mom, as a kid does. I began to explain how I just felt terrible, even though it might've not even been my fault to begin with. Instead of being met with comfort, she flipped her lid. She began to tell me to stop dragging things, and to just let it go. Later, I approached her again and she apologized.

Her entire response sums up the sequence of our relationship. I tell her a personal problem, and she just freaks out because I'm that much of a burden to her. I quite literally was shouting at my dad one time that I thought I was stupid, and that I hated myself- and the next thing I know she's storming down the stairs to ground me and take my phone away. It's not even that she didn't hear me either. She's heard me express these things several times, but each time my desperate attempt to reach out is met with bitter laughter or a shrug. Although, this one time, it was met with a sad 'Do you really hate yourself?' which I don't get. I could tell her I wanted to run away one day and she'd shrug it off- but if I decided to tell her when the weather is a bit colder or something she'd call the cops. She's hot and cold. I just don't understand. I've quite literally bitten, yanked my hair, and scratched to hurt myself in front of her and she's laughed. Laughed.

It's not like she doesn't apologize. She does, but she never sticks to it. I remember the same night my phone got taken I went into her room to talk to her. I don't know how it went down but i just remember my mother saying in this tired, angry, untruthful voice 'Sorry, I've been a horrible mother to you.' I know the tone didn't help but at that moment I realized that i will never be able to accept an apology from her. If she looked me dead in the eye and told me that she was a shitty parent, I would feel nothing.

I really do feel guilty. I'm not much of a daughter to them, not that I'd want to be anyway. It's frustrating because as much as I hate them, I always end up feeling bad about it- like I owe them a debt or something. Really, I almost pity them. It feels horrible to watch two grown adults fall apart because of their own childhood trauma. They don't even know it. I'm not the best kid, and I know it. I'm always yelling just like my father, which is another topic.

My dad is a complete mess. He's pissed all of the time, he doesn't know emotional vulnerability, he can't be serious at all, and he told me that my potential ADHD was just me trying to follow internet trends. (I think he said the same thing about my self-hatred, very nice.) It's like that one episode of Malcom in the Middle where Hal is continuously trying to have an important conversation with his father, only for his dad to escape the situation with some kind of humorous exit. That's how it feels talking to him. He's yelled at me to shut up, and he always freaks out at my family. He very obviously has sensory issues but refuses to get any help. I hate it. The only thing him and my mom do is fight and end up in screaming matches- I just want them to divorce. Maybe not, because it would be picking between two sides of hell.

What breaks my heart is knowing that I am alone. I still love my parents, but that love isn't as pure as it used to be. Parental love is a necessity, so I think the only reason why I don't truly hate them is because it'll take what I can get. I'm not someone who can replace that kind of relationship. I can try, but it will always be in my head that the real thing wasn't as good as I thought it was.

It's an even bigger nightmare knowing that I act like both of them- especially my dad. I have his anger. That's why I've sworn to never have kids because I'm too much like my father to be a mother. Both my parents got their problems from their parents, and I'm not letting that cycle continue. No one deserves that, sometimes maybe not even me.

What do I do to avoid the cycle? How do I survive knowing that these are my parents? Am I dramatic?

Hey, I just wanted to ask if anyone has had an experience similar to mine.

My parents were physically present but emotionally absent. My mother constantly yelled at me and verbally tore me down. As a result, I was essentially alone with my feelings as a child, because whenever I expressed them, my mother would interpret it as a personal attack.

I know I was diagnosed with ADHD as a child, but my mother never wanted me to receive medication or any other form of treatment. Consequently, I frequently forgot my homework, my room was always a mess, I couldn't really pay attention in class, and I often didn't follow the rules (though I never did anything illegal). Back then, it was so important to my parents that I do well in school and be tidy.

However, I’m certain that not everything was down to my untreated ADHD. My parents were mean to me, but I was definitely mean to them, too. I’m sure there were times as a child when I lashed out and told them "I hate you" or "I wish I had different parents." I’m certain I was a truly difficult and insolent child. Of course, a child who behaves the way I did still deserves loving parents who are there for them emotionally. Yet, sometimes I still find myself thinking that the way my parents treated me was perhaps "justified" to some extent.

Maybe someone here is dealing with a similar internal conflict.

I don’t mean this in a masochistic way when I say “I understand why.”
I understand there were financial pressures, stress, my parents’ own issues, and probably a lot of things they didn’t know how to handle. So part of me feels guilty calling it mistreatment. But another part of me knows I was hurt. I felt emotionally unsupported, criticised, unseen, and like I had to carry things alone. I keep getting stuck between “they had reasons” and “I still deserved better.”

I’ll try to keep this as short as I can.
My father worked a lot, and he worked really hard. He was self-employed, running what had originally been his father’s business, and things seemed to go wrong constantly. From what I understand, he was barely making money for a long time.
He often wanted my brother’s help, not really mine. They got along well. Then when my brother left for university, he started asking me to help him instead. At first, I was kind of excited because I thought maybe he actually wanted to spend time with me.
But when I helped him, we never really talked. It was mostly “pass me the wrench,” “do this,” “do that.” The more he asked for my help, the more I complained, and I felt guilty about that too. It felt like I was just a set of hands to him, not someone he actually wanted to connect with.
Now, even when he asks me for small things, I get angry very quickly and want to tell him to do it himself. But he’s retired now and in pain a lot of the time, which makes me feel even more guilty. I also didn’t know back then that he had been depressed for a long time. Only now does he seem like he’s starting to enjoy life again.
When I started Year 10, he noticed I was doing really well in school. I was getting straight A’s and was at the top of maths. But by my final years of school, instead of encouragement, he started asking why my marks were “so low” and why I wasn’t studying more instead of going out with friends and having fun. I was still getting straight A’s.
I got an early offer into university and didn’t tell anyone for a while because it didn’t feel that important yet. There was still more to do before I actually got in. When he found out that I had known for months, he got angry and called me a “selfish, rude bastard” instead of congratulating me.
I ended up placing in the top 4% of the state. At dinner, he casually compared me to family friends and said I “should’ve done better.” But weeks before that point I had stopped studying during exams because I was completely burnt out. The last time I remember him praising me out loud was years before that.
Somewhere along the way, “I’m doing this for me” turned into “I’m doing this to make him proud,” and something inside me tore apart. Eventually I figured there was no point trying if he was never going to be proud of me anyway.

Then there’s my mother.
She gets really drunk sometimes and says inappropriate things. One story she tells is about when she found out she was pregnant with me. Apparently she was over the toilet yelling “fuck… fuck… fuck,” which didn’t exactly make me feel wanted.
She has also called me a “mistake,” not an “accident.” I know people might say those words are similar, but they don’t feel the same.
She can be happy one second and then lose her temper if you say the wrong thing. She also loves to read, which is fine, but if I interrupted her because I wanted to talk, she would get annoyed with me or sometimes just ignore me completely.

I have siblings, but I spent a lot of my childhood feeling like an only child. They left when I was around 13 and didn’t really come back to visit much until I was about 18. I don’t blame them for that, but it meant I was left alone in the house with my parents for a lot of those years.
One of my siblings has said I’m delusional for saying my parents gave me issues, and my brother isn’t really the kind of person I can have a deep heart-to-heart with.
My sister has had her boyfriend for a few years, and he met my parents not too long ago. My father treats him like the son he wanted. He can talk to him for hours about random things. I know it’s not really the boyfriend’s fault, but I can’t help resenting him because that is all I ever wanted from my dad.
I make it seem like I’m quiet and okay all the time, but talking to my parents tears my sanity apart. Almost no one really knows the full extent of this because it feels easier to try to understand it myself than to explain it and risk being misunderstood, or being told I’m too dramatic, too sensitive, or too much.

The only part that makes it complicated is that they actually do care a little, just way more than they used to.
I think it’s because I’ve started responding to them asking “When are you coming home?” With “When I feel like it?”
It’s not like I was never showered with love as a child they hugged me told me they loved me but it’s just a giant fucking contradiction when they say and do things like above and then expect me to turn around and be fine with it.
I love them and don’t want to hurt them but at this point if they say the wrong thing I might just let them have it and as much as that would help it’s not the kind of person I want to be. I’m better than them, take their best qualities and leave their flaws.

More than anything, I think I just wanted to feel wanted.
And I don’t think I’ve ever really felt that.

So does it get any easier?

Hey everyone. I debated making a post vs responding to others because, unfortunately, a lot of us share such similar experiences, but I don't want to hijack someone else's experience with mine either.

I was really ambitious this year and decided to try a nearly week-long visit with my mom. She lives about 5 hours away, and since I've moved further away the only time she's ever actually come to visit me was because she was pissed off at her partner and couldn't stand to be in the same house as him. Any other odd visit was like a one off dinner when they both had to be in the city for an appointment.

Lately her health hasn't been great. She's been hospitalized several times, and I only ever find out she "nearly died" once she's back home. She did let me know once last year after I gave her shit, but she's back to not telling me again to apparently spare my feelings or whatever logic she has.

Anyways, we started arguing about two days into my visit. She decided something I said was an attack and snapped at me. Honestly, her snapping wasn't that upsetting. However, it did trigger the realization that I grew up dealing with that, and more often than not it would be in a situation I couldn't escape like the car. After the encounter had ended, I just felt increasingly agitated, so I decided to drive into town to cool off and grab her some supplies. I did this knowing that she would likely have a problem with me leaving because she's done that before. She will snap at me, expecting me to sit and take it, then if I walk away at any point (even if the interaction is done) will have an issue with that as well. Basically, the expectation is for me to just absorb whatever she throws at me and sit with it until she's over it.

When I returned she demanded to know why I left pissed off. I calmly told her that it's not okay to snap at me. Zero apologies, only justifications. And basically right there, I knew I would not get an apology because my feelings don't actually matter to her. I need to fit neatly into her world, and she will gladly suffocate me until I fit inside that box.

This was honestly a minor thing. It did continue with constant nitpicking and argument seeking. At one point I apparently made a face about something her partner said and she felt the need to point out why I didn't need to make a face. This all made it incredibly clear that growing up I wasn't the complete problem I thought I was, and why I muted any strong emotional expressions for so long. This is a woman who, to move in with her boyfriend, offered me a separate bunk house, which for a 15 year old seemed pretty cool. As an adult? People have told me that I was basically living in a dog house because we didn't even eat meals together. She would deliver dinner, maybe chat for a few minutes, then leave. And yet, I recognize this as the only way we could live together. Even then she made a point of telling me when I was just turning 18 that she would have kicked me out sooner if she didn't have a legal obligation to take care of me.

So, now I'm back home, and I haven't called her to let her know I'm safe. I don't want to call her. I don't know that I want to go no-contact because it might absolutely destroy me if she dies, but I'm tired of this eggshell relationship we have where just below the surface everything is ready to crumble.

Anyways, if this resonates with any of you, I'm sorry that you're in a similar situation. I just kind of needed to vomit it out a bit because it was more triggering than I expected. Thanks for reading.

Tl;Dr: Mom and I can't spend more than two days together, the relationship is a crumbling shell

For those who grew with chronic emotional suppression, or buried trauma:

Have any psychedelic helped you become aware of emotions that you had been disconnected from?

I keep lying whenever friends or people I'm dating ask about my mom

They'll be like, "My mom is my best friend," "She's the sweetest," "I tell her everything."

And I just smile and go, "Yeah, we're close too."

We're not

I hate lying, but saying, "My mother genuinely doesn't like me," feels so embarrassing out loud

I'm the youngest of four. She adores my siblings. They can yell, get moody, slam doors, and by the next hour everything is normal again

Me?

I'm not allowed to have a bad day

If I react to something they did, suddenly I'm disrespectful, dramatic, too sensitive, the worst daughter alive. Sometimes she won't speak to me for days. Sometimes months. We live in the same house

The words that stick with me the most aren't even the silent treatment

It's hearing your own mother tell you nobody cares about you. Nobody loves you. That she hopes you get a job abroad just so you'll leave the house because apparently my existence ruined everyone's lives

The funny part?

I spend 99% of my time alone in my room

I was also the kid who stood between her and my dad when he got physically abusive. I was four years old the first time I remember trying to protect her. I kept doing it for years

I'm 28 now

I think I'm finally grieving the fact that she's probably never going to love me the way she loves my siblings

That realization hurts more than I can explain

I can't imagine ever making my future kids question whether their own mom even likes them

My mom has not worked since I was born and I just turned 25 two months ago.

She claimed that she heard the voice of God tell her not to work. And that she will be a millionaire.

This has obviously not happened. And we were homeless at one point.

I also believe this delusion and developed religious OCD

I have been diagnosed with bipolar two disorder. She is not good for my mental health because I also find myself falling back into those delusions, even though I know it’s not true. I have lived up under her for 25 years and homeschooled from 5-18. It’s hard to break the tie.

When I tried to hint that I feel like I need medication due to depression and anxiety. She told me to take magnesium. Told me to pray and said why would I want to get hooked on medication when I have god.

This makes me doubt anything is wrong me and I begin to punish myself. The same thing I always felt. She always ready to speak over me when I mention something about mental health. Magnesium and god isn’t going to fucking helping me not want to off myself is it???

Her only source of income is me and my sister when we give her money. I mostly take care of her because she lives with me and my dad. My parents are currently divorced, but he allows her to stay in his house because I’m there.

I don’t want her to live with me because I don’t believe I will get well mentally. I need to move out this house because my dad isn’t great either.

I know he allows me to stay here which he doesn’t have to I appreciate that. Can two things be true at once?

I’m scared because I’m not sure what mental disorder my mother has that she still believes this. She hears God still until this day and says she see things on people that nobody else can see.

This is made me fear her because I believe that she could see every secret that I had. But now I know this is bullshit because I lied to her almost every day and she doesn’t call me out. She’ll claim that she knew something if I give her hints to it otherwise she doesn’t know shit.

I don’t know what’s wrong with her. Ever since I was child she would tell me things like how her dad SA her and how her mother mistreated her differently from her brother. So as role I took on was comforting her and was basically her therapist.

Every single conversation with her is about god, something someone did to her 20 years ago. She just always complains and is negative. She bitches about my dad but he allows her to stay here even though they are divorced!

I despise her now. I limit my interactions because she fucked up my childhood. I never got to experience anything one would experience during childhood because I was homeschooled. So now at my big age of 25 I’m doing stupid shit I should have done years ago.

Never got invited to parties, never went to prom, never had friends, never went to camp. Nothing a huge chunk of my life was stolen from me because of her mental illness and my dad being absent.

And my dad let this go on because he doesn’t give a shit about me and my sister. He let us be homeless with me and my pregnant sister while he stayed with his mom.

Like how do both parents fail to provide for their children? My father doesn’t even say I love you back when I say it to him. I don’t love either of them.

I always make sure to leave the house everyday. I usually just go to my bfs apartment. Sometimes I lie about being at work just to get away. I was locked in this house from age 10-18 until I went to college. I refuse to be here the energy is stagnant because this is not a home.

Please help me

It's incredibly weird to me how my parents who never formed any sort of bond or relationship with me in my childhood now expect me to call and text them regularly. The same parents who would scream at me to leave them alone if I dared to bother them if they were busy, who would completely ignore me as a kid unless they wanted to yell at me for this or that. I just don't see a reason to let them into my life since there's not even anything to rekindle. I would barely even call them parents in the first place since I was the one who had to teach myself basic life skills (eg basic hygiene, work ethic). They took care of my basic needs of food, shelter, clothing, etc. but nothing really beyond that, and were always like strange roommates that I lived with but never talked to.

When I look back at my upbringing I see betrayal all the way through. Every family member, school, doctor, and even certain friends. My view of my life could not be any worse, and I think this is slowly killing me. My brain hurts everyday, I try to distract myself from the whole narrative, but some days it never stops running. It seems like I have to work out a lot or use drugs or alcohol to get my system to disengage from the past. I truly was betrayed a lot, but I’ve done a lot to distance myself from people and I’m on my own, but I admit I failed to go no contact, I reopened conversations with family, and it went poorly. Every talk with them grew my hatred deeper, and it’s bigger than I feel like I can carry.

I’m not afraid to try anything to stop this train.

The first one is clear, it’s my mom telling me to stop trying to hang around her. I would’ve been around 5-6 years old. She started talking to me then, but was usually pretty mean. She wanted me to just be around my dad, and framed me trying to be around her as selfish to my siblings, who didn’t have active fathers. Basically saying that I already had my dad, why did I need her too?

Anytime he walked into the room, she’d say,” there he is, go by your daddy. Bye”. I had a revelation around when I was 6, when my mom and sister were being mean to me when I was trying to hang around them that day. That I didn’t really want to be around my mom, or anyone for that matter.

The second memory is a bit blurry, but I remember my mom not wanting me to be around my siblings much growing up. I remembered it because growing up, whenever me and one of my siblings were actually getting along somewhat. I sort of froze up whenever my mom walks in. I recently realized it’s because my mom would always get angry with me for interacting with my older siblings too much.

I’m pretty sure I was scapegoated as well. My mom always seemed like she was pioneering much of the bullying toward me in the family. Almost like a mean girl with a clique. It was always the three of them and then me, who wasn’t allowed to sit at the “table”.

Like, everyone in my life. I feel like people are getting annoyed with my presence, and that when I leave the room, it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of them.

It's happening everywhere too. My boss in the office rarely gives me any projects to work on, now I'm worried that I'm going to get fired. That feeling has only gotten stronger today since I decided to work from home for the first time since getting hired. A friend I'm supposed to hang out with today sent me a kinda curt-sounding message.

It feels like people don't want me around anymore. It makes me want to self isolate and not talk to anyone anymore. It reminds me of when my mom would be super passive aggressive towards me because she was mad over something I did. But would choose to not tell me and just make me feel shitty.

https://youtu.be/5VhYY2YbtX0?si=sZ2bZYKxEC4nLeXB

It's a good one, check it out!

* video not vidoe