Anyone Else? Can’t just me me, right?
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Hey, as long as writing that comment helped you vent then it wasn’t time wasted
Thanks for writing this
Needed that (about something else but still thanks)
No problem buddy!
You having read my comment and benefited from it means that me writing it wasn’t time wasted :)
This is why I love Lemmy. There’s a recognition that we’re all imperfect beings stuck in this crazy thing called “life” together. It only makes sense to support each other.
I really want this mindset to be everywhere, not just on Lemmy. I wish everyone had the support mechanisms that people need to survive.
An issue in some situations is a small number of people abuse the fuck out of the support mechanisms available. This leads people to agree with “we shouldn’t provide it if it’s going to be abused”. Which they’re obviously incorrect in stating.
I’ve never seen Star Trek, but if applied to reality it should be “The needs of the many outweigh the desires of the few”
“Stop that, you could get hurt!”
“Ugh, just be on my side for once!”
My dad would occasionally tell us stories from his childhood. Stuff like his dad grabbing him by the shirt collar and repeatedly punching him in the face. When I was a kid it was just another story. When I got old enough to actually understand what he was talking about it was like, “God damn. No wonder you’re like this.”
I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. It didn’t undo anything he did but it did help me hate him less.
I think I’m really fortunate that my dad somehow realized he completely fucked up and made an effort to repair his relationship with his kids. We’re on good terms now and he’s a way better Grandpa than he was a father. I know a lot of people go through their whole lives only getting to see the worst side of their parents. My dad included.
You are not alone. Your parents do not define your value. Despite their best or worst efforts, they do not ultimately get to decide what kind of person you will be.
My dad would occasionally tell us stories from his childhood. Stuff like his dad grabbing him by the shirt collar and repeatedly punching him in the face.
Bruuuh. I feel like I really shouldn’t complain that much. Some of y’all got even more fucked up childhood than I did. My parents never hit me that hard, it was merely slap on my hand. So like… in an “overton window” where corporal punishment is socially acceptable, its actually kinda tame in comparison. I’m never gonna be like “okay” with that idea, its still very… unacceptable regardless of how society views hitting your kids, but like, to be fair, judging by that standards, on that “overton window”, I didn’t get abused that badly. My parents also didn’t drink or gamble, so… I guess I got lucky the abuse is mostly just emotional. (still… depression is kinda slowly making me wanna kms)
(still… depression is kinda slowly making me wanna kms)
I tried that once when I was a teenager. Obviously, I failed. Kind of a cruel irony being told that you’re never going to amount to anything and then, as you’re working on your own suicide, you suck so bad at tying knots that you fail at that too.
20+ years later, I’m glad I failed. Depression is a deep dark hole that can feel completely inescapable. It’s not inescapable with the right help. You don’t have to do it alone. You just have to be willing to ask for help.
My life so far has been a hard one. It’s been made much harder by the fact that my stupid little brain is broken and makes it extremely difficult to regulate my own emotions. But there’s glimmers of joy in the middle of all the hardness. I have things now that I never could have imagined on that day in my parents garage.
Things like self love and a sense of self worth, a family of my own, people to whom I matter a great deal, and a wealth of experiences that have taught me a great many valuable lessons. Back then I didn’t think anyone would care if I stopped existing. Now, I know that’s not true. Sometimes I’m still here because I’m enjoying my life. Sometimes because I know there are people who love and need me. Somwtimes it’s because even though I don’t feel like that’s true, I know it is and I’m leaning on my meds until my feelings normalize. For me, that’s enough to keep me here until my time is finally up.
Keep doing you. You got this. Posted my story above yours and it definitely feels similar so I feel your pain.
You are really strong for everytbing you habe endured brl/sis. We got this alright! No matter what!! Also read up on any articles https://goodgoodgood.co/ says about Hope (The June One, This October one, The Hope Quotes one, and more). That is what has been keeping me going. Kinda why I keep spreading word about it too. They talk about how it is fundamental for everybodies lives based on research
I posted a really hopeful post on I think it was on politics community (I know politics suck) about the Senate Dems Caving. Made The Post To Help Boost Morale For The People. Take a read of it. Especially since it mentions the hope articles I mentioned above with links. It definitely makes the meltdowns happen a lot less
Will definitely do everything you recommend too. We got this!!
Here’s direct link:
Sometimes I think I’d prefer physical abuse instead of the constant emotional stuff that makes you doubt yourself decades later. Like, my therapist tells me it was bad but they’re a therapist, isn’t that what they’d say? Mommy Dearest told me no one beat me so it’s not abuse. Abuse is complicated.
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Ah, the constant, unpredictable flipping between affection and cruelty. Sure made for a lovely childhood! Definitely didn’t contribute to a lifelong fear of social interaction, and the resulting isolation.
My mother has never properly apologized to me for anything in her life. She says she’s not the perfect mother but if you ask her about details of what she feels she did wrong, she will get angry. I honestly don’t talk to her anymore. Homophobic, racist, islamaphobic, etc. I don’t need to put up with that and no one else should be forced to either.
All my parents did for me was neglect me. They weren’t mean to me or anything. I don’t even know if they knew i was alive.
Damn, a whole lotta folks with not the greatest childhoods.
I think I may have been luckier than I realized.
Abusive parents the second you defend yourself effectively: “I didn’t know you had teeth, sorry for biting you.”
Because when you see a wooden spoon, it’s just a wooden spoon. When I see a wooden spoon, I see a weapon.
The day we figured out we could grab the spoon from her and break it was very liberating.
That was the case. She lost my trust since I was very young. But fortunately I have a great father, who is intelligent and caring. I often feel sorry for him to have to live with my mother. On the bright side, their relationship seems get better in the resent years. Maybe time did heal.
I imagine you would sound like my daughter
You’re not alone.
“I did my best”
You never even TRIED taking responsibility for anything, maybe divert some of that effort there instead.
I still haven’t decided when or if I’ll ever tell my mom about the ptsd she gave us. At this point, with the ways she’s changed over the years, I’m not confident she’ll listen or believe me.
My parents were physical with me early in life until they felt they could talk it out. My family always put restrictions on things and I didn’t really have input into things while I was there, my adult relationship was largely listening to them complain about their health, dodge political conversations and really never got to input anything into a conversation. If I did mention something they treated it as an ask for guidance and not just something to talk about. My parents never knew the real me that they developed. Thankfully I diverged after I left home as their politics are ghastly
Ahhh, yes. The Hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.
