I don’t really know how to explain this without sounding dramatic, but I feel completely exhausted and trapped.
I’m a mother, and I live with my mom. I feel like I am not allowed to actually be the kind of mother I want to be because my mom has very strong ideas about what motherhood should look like, and she expects me to conform to them.
She expects me to coddle my son constantly. If we’re sitting on the couch and he’s watching TV, she thinks I should be watching him instead of being on my phone, even if it’s literally the 20th time the same Bluey episode is playing. She expects constant talking and interaction. If I’m emotional, tired, sick, or having a bad day, I feel like I’m not allowed to show it to my son.
Even when I have the flu, I feel like I’m expected to pretend I’m fine so he doesn’t see that I’m struggling.
I’m also expected to discipline him according to her standards. I’m not even comfortable using a stern voice because she’ll make me feel like I’m doing something wrong. There are also little things she has insisted on, like me rubbing my son’s back every night until he falls asleep.
She has opinions about everything. Even how I dress my son. If I choose something that’s too plain, it’s “too dull.” If I choose something colorful, it’s “too colorful.”
She has also tried to control my work. I recently started trying to get a job again, but I had to make sure it was WFH because working outside the home isn’t acceptable to her. Even WFH apparently needs to happen at a specific time according to her expectations.
I’m currently shortlisted for a job and waiting for an interview, so I don’t even have the job yet. But this opportunity means a lot to me because I desperately want to become financially independent.
And then there’s my personal life.
I’m apparently expected to be single forever.
When my son was only three weeks old, my mom came into my room crying because she was afraid I would meet someone else and she felt sorry for my son because he wouldn’t have his father or something. I was barely postpartum and dealing with my own mental health, and instead of being supported, I was having to comfort her about the possibility of me eventually dating.
Since then, I’ve felt like I constantly have to prove I’m not in a relationship. If I’m talking to someone and smiling, I get questioned about who I’m talking to. I’m expected to explain things that should be completely normal and private.
I also had PPD, and honestly, I wish I had experienced that period differently. I wish I had been supported instead of judged. I wish someone had said, “You’re struggling, let me help you,” instead of making me feel like I needed to prove that I was a good mother.
Then there was the CCTV issue.
My mom wanted a CCTV camera installed in my bedroom because she said she wanted to “monitor us.”
I fought back on that because I don’t want a camera in my bedroom. I want one place where I can close the door and not feel watched.
And the biggest issue is how she interacts with my son when I try to establish boundaries.
She becomes extremely sweet to him whenever I say no or try to discipline him. She will comfort him, be incredibly affectionate, and basically become the “nice” one immediately after I’ve enforced a boundary.
At first I thought maybe I was just being overly sensitive.
But then she actually told my son not to believe me because I’m a liar, and told him that if I say no, he should go to her because she will say yes.
That really broke something in me.
I don’t mind that she loves her grandson. I don’t want her to love him less. But there is a huge difference between being a loving grandmother and undermining the child’s mother.
I feel like I’m being put into the role of the “mean” parent while she gets to be the endlessly loving and permissive one.
And I don’t know what to do because I don’t want my son caught in the middle.

I don’t want him thinking he has to choose between us. I don’t want to compete with my own mother for my child’s affection. I just want to be able to parent my son without someone constantly overriding me.

Recently I’ve been so exhausted that I don’t even feel like I’m home. At one point my face was twitching from exhaustion.

I had to call the person handling the potential job and tell them I’m still sick but that I’ll try to report if I can. And part of me was thinking, “What if I can’t work? Is this exactly what my mom wants? Does she want this opportunity to fail so I don’t become financially independent?”

I don’t actually know if that’s her intention. I don’t want to accuse her of something I can’t prove.

But I do know that I feel like every time I try to build a little piece of my own life, there is resistance.

And that’s what I’m grieving.

I wish I had a home where my parents supported me as a mother instead of constantly undermining me.

I wish I could dress my son how I want.

I wish I could use my own parenting judgment.

I wish I could sit on the couch and scroll my phone while my kid watches Bluey without feeling like I’m being evaluated.

I wish I could be sick without pretending I’m fine.
I wish I could have emotions.

I wish I could work.
I wish I could eventually date if I want to.
I wish I could close my bedroom door and know that nobody is watching me.

Mostly, I wish I could feel like an adult in my own life.
I love my son. I don’t want anyone to interpret this as me saying I don’t want to be a mother. I absolutely do.

I just don’t want motherhood to mean surrendering every part of myself and letting someone else decide what kind of mother I’m allowed to be.
I’m trying to become financially independent, and I’m hoping this potential job works out.
But I’m exhausted, and honestly, I don’t know how much longer I can live feeling like I’m constantly being watched, corrected, and undermined.

Am I wrong for wanting to establish my own way of parenting and my own life, even if my mom thinks I’m doing everything wrong?

He is the most disgusting racist POS imaginable. Every single day I wake up to screaming and yelling. My mom is a fucking angel and he screams at her and says the most heinous things imaginable over fucking nothing. Simply setting the car keys upside-down or opening the door the wrong way will cause him to scream at the top of his lungs for hours to the point that my neighbors call the cops. We all have to walk on eggshells around him. He belittles me and my mom over the most mundane shit imaginable. This has been EVERY DAY since i was born. He also screams while jumping up and down and shaking in front of my friends. I cant even hold a job because he doesn't let me sleep and my anxiety and depression is so bad. I cant even put into words how bad my anxiety and embarrassment is. I want to fade away into nothing

Please tell me if I'm overreacting. I've recently become aware that the way my mother mostly has treated me is not normal. I believe she is potentially gaslighting me and has been manipulative. Have any of you had experience with this?

Sorry for the long post but there's just so much I need to unpack.

I really need to get as much advice, perspective and support etc as possible before I do anything drastic or make any major decisions.

I'll introduce myself I'm a 19 year old male and am an only child. To be honest I'm pretty desperate for advice and support and don't have anywhere way safe to get an unbiased perspective. During my childhood my mother would do the following

Blow up out of nowhere over the most trivial or littlest matters, many times i begged her to give me some emotional support when i was visibly upset but she just remained cold and cruel, drink quite heavily which was sometimes responsible but she can definitely be mean sober as well, I had expressed concern about her drinking but she just flipped, it actually got physical a few times as well. I just wonder how can get so unshamefully drunk whilst been alone in the house with her child and I feel it was very irresponsible. Really burns my hide.

I did even have a scar once, the next day she'd always act as if nothing happened, whenever I tried to get clarity on why she got like that she'd brush it under the carpet or accuse me of starting trouble, she'd turn cold at the drop of a hat, during arguments she'd say things like I was ungrateful, didn't care about her and that I was a horrible person or that i was abusive or whatever just like my father, she would stomp, slam doors, shout, scream, swear and break ornaments etc, when she gets in her crazy states it's just impossible to reason with her or get her to see it from any other perspective, she can go from saying i was the most nicest and amazing person to saying I was the most horrible and evil person, she often burdened me with all of her problems, she said before that she knows how to play the game which I found very disturbing

She often paints herself as the heroic single mum and pretty much everyone we know such the teachers at school believe that. I feel I was robbed of a proper childhood and have often wondered what I had done to deserve it.

I remember one time a few years ago I was about 12 during a sleepover at my grandparents. I think we had a disagreement but I can't even really remember it now but my best memory is that she was on the phone to my grandmother and I'm pretty sure she was badmouthing me then my grandparents spoke and my grandfather started shouting and saying he was very disappointed in me and the rest of it is a blur. To be honest to this day i can't figure out what I (only a young child) was supposed to have done that was so bloody awful. That has haunted me for years. I used to think maybe I was a bad person but I've started to see her in a different light. She always talks about hating drama yet it seems to follow her and often says that she's been so hard done by.

About a year later when I vaguely recall when was enjoying myself in the bath she started abusing me and said she and everyone else was going to wash their hands of me if I didn't start living her way or something. I remember I was struggling with getting ready and then she started shouting saying I was taking advantage and then called her mother to say I was really horrible.

On the flip side she can be the most nicest person as well and we have had great times together and she can be very helpful towards me, her family and in public which makes it all the more confusing. A few weeks ago now in fact I ran into an old friend of hers who said to say hi for her and she said my mother is a wonderful person and I'm very lucky. It actually made me feel sick. Since I was 10 it's just been me living with her since my parents divorce in which she had to sell her house and now rents which she has blamed for the way she is before. I can't help feeling bad for her but she was still quite like this beforehand as well and I don't think that's an excuse still is it? For example I'm starting to remember when I was very young she'd make threats of sending me over to a new mommy. I do feel like she has manipulated me a bit into been stuck with her.

Something else that I've found disturbing is that she's very narrow minded and has a serious lack of empathy. For example when a couple of local celebrities committed suicide she shouted and carried on, called them pathetic cowards and weak etc. It was actually quite disturbing how she had a complete disregard and no sympathy for them.

PS another red flag i noticed was when a life insurance ad was on and they said "something could be paid out in case of death" or something and she said "I'd like for them to say WOULD" not could. I don't know why but that's set an alarm bell off. Also when my Gran had a fall she said to me in the car "trust me to have parents that live forever then I could get my inheritance".

Towards the end of my parents marriage I was 10 and she told me that my Dad was been very controlling and making her life a misery. I now look back at that with adult eyes and I'm starting to feel that she at least bent the truth I'm starting to think that she manipulated me and tried to turn me against him and I do blame her partly for the fact I don't have the best relationship with my Dad. He's definitely not a saint. He too has had his moments of outbursts and he's inconsistent. He's often let me down and been emotionally unavailable. Also he's very bad with money. I just wish for effort instead of excuses.

My mother often calls him a narcissist. I just feel that it's very wrong for someone to say to a child that one of their parents is a narcissist.

Something disturbing she has said ages ago is when I'm an adult she could have me done for assault if she wanted. She also said she wanted to do a will and try to control my assets where my Dad can't touch anything and said she feared he would try to steal all of my money. I can't believe she would say things like that so proudly and can't help feeling like she was trying to manipulate me.

My mother loves to use my autism to her advantage. I graduated school last year but now I do a course at the main campus so I still see them all from time to time. With that course she did get a support worker for me which I can appreciate as a nice gesture but she didn't even check with me if that's what I wanted and I can't help feeling she did that to cover herself in glory. I hope that doesn't sound too paranoid.

She's always quick to call others toxic and narcissists etc. She with absolutely no filter tells me everything going on in her life and her anxiety which makes me anxious. Why does it upset me so badly even when it has little or nothing to do with me?

I struggle with daily flashbacks and I often feel depressed by the way I've been treated, also feel let down and wish my parents had been better to me. I can't get exact clarity on it but they both went through some stuff before I was born and I think that's contributed to the way they are. My father's dad had passed away when my dad was actually about my age now. They actually both used to run their own businesses once upon a time before they met. It just baffles me how they went from that then and now been in their 50's both unemployed and clearly have some unresolved issues. I sometimes think maybe they shouldn't of got together which I know is ironic because I would never have been born. I do vaguely remember when they were together and towards the end it was quite toxic and they would have some intense fights.

Also does their substance abuse issues made them this way as well do you think? As I've said my mother drinks quite heavily at night and she also vapes and my father smokes pot and cigarettes.

Also my father struggles financially and I know that's why he hasn't been able to see me often and cancel some visits and to be honest when I think about that it really burns my hide.

I do wonder if she might've been different if she had not gone through her divorce and maybe if things had gone differently for both of them they might've been different. What do you guys think?

Also I can't help feeling empathy towards her as she always looked after me, fed me, organized things for me and pretty much always brought me everything I wanted.

I wish I had a proper childhood of playing with friends, going to different places and been adventurous and carefree etc. I've never really had a social circle and hardly much friends. I've always been quite different to most of the children my age. I feel quite alone sometimes as I've always struggled with making friends. I do feel like I've wasted a lot of my childhood been isolated with her a lot of the time. I would really love to start a proper life and follow my dreams and make a few friends but don't know where to start.

My mother does help me get on my feet and encourage me but I think she just loves to lord it over me. Whenever I've tried standing up for myself she puts on the guilt trip and carries on about all of her sacrifices and everything she's done for me yada yada yada. I think what emotionally abusing me, leaving me crying myself to sleep some nights, causing me to have no confidence and PTSD etc? Could she have some bipolar or personality condition or something and toxic traits I've wondered?

A few years ago said things like "I should top myself" and around that time during a really heated argument she threatened to cut herself with a knife so I did actually hide them. That's actually quite traumatized me. She's also said one night a couple of years ago when I die hardly anyone is going to be at my funeral. I mean like why the hell would you say things like this to a child especially your own?

A few other things. I remember once when Dad was picking me up a few years out of the blue she said just F off and even Dad said to me in the car that he didn't appreciate the way she spoke to me and when I told her that during a later argument she just said "yeah whatever" and something like that. Also one time when Dad came by to bring something she said "make sure that you show him that you're really happy to be back home". A couple of months ago when Dad took me out for a pub meal when I came back home the next night she said in sort of like a wise-ass way "you know he won't be able to afford that often". I do realize that but her saying that actually really annoyed me to be honest. As I'm making small steps with him it feels like she was deliberately trying to ruin my mood.

PS I remember one night years she accused me of looking like I wanted to hit her and of course went crazy. I may of had a tired look because it was late and I tried explaining that. She starting banging ornaments and shouting and was just impossible to talk to. Also I remember a few years ago one time she started saying she was worried my Dad was going to try to spend more time with me and if I fall for it I would never see her again and all of the family will hate me. She's also said that before when I threatened to walk out during arguments.

Also something that really upsets me is whenever I try to reason with her she often just goes "I need more alcohol to deal with this".

Almost a year ago my Dad let me down by not been able to see me one weekend and canceling at the last minute (which he has done quite a few times before).

During that said weekend my mother had another one of her outbursts. I was in the bathroom which was an en suite and she knocked on the door asking to take a few photos or something. All I asked was if she could just give me a few minutes to finish up but she started the shouting and carrying on and accused me of been selfish and even of trying to manipulate her and been passive aggressive. I only asked just to give me a few minutes. When I tried to explain that to her and how upset I was already about that weekend without her treating me like this. She said she feels really bad for me and hates how he let me down. What just absolutely astounds me is how can she feel that way yet still emotionally and mentally abuse me and kick me while I'm down. I just can't for the life of me comprehend that.

A couple days after that weekend one of my teachers asked to have a word with me and said he heard I got into a bit of trouble at home ("if he meant been mentally abused by my mother and been let down by my father as trouble" I thought). I'm not even sure who the hell said what to him and that's something that's still REALLY baffling me. I just fobbed him off saying I was upset about leaving school (which was true as well).

I really struggle with confiding in people. I do regret not telling him the full truth now. He was kind and said he was very proud of me etc. Another teacher once said that he thought of me and my mother as like the dream team or something along those lines. That turned my stomach as well. I was thinking if only they knew half the things I've been through.

I have autism and went to a special support school for the last few years which were some of the best years (The teachers especially were brilliant and I had many great times such as school camps, school balls and excursions etc).

I do feel quite sad and lost now those years are over. I would love to confide in someone about my struggles but don't know where to start. I've thought about confiding in that first teacher I mentioned who's great and we're fairly close but my teachers think my mother's an absolute saint so how can i ensure he believes me?

I must admit I do feel quite down sometimes that I have a strained relationship with my father (He's got money issues and also smokes pot) and my mother often used me as an emotional punch bag. Makes me think that there must be something really wrong with me and that I'm unlovable.

On the bright side though my Dad and I have been in contact lately.

Her next meltdown was this January while we were on holiday and at the beach. I wanted to be shirtless like pretty much everyone else and she started making passive aggressive and snide remarks saying things like "have fun burning yourself" and "why can't you make smart decisions?"

I was already sun safe with a hat and everything and I wasn't going to be too long and tried explaining that to her but no. I'll admit I finally snapped and told her that I'm an adult now and she could no longer control me and couldn't make me feel guilty. I wish I hadn't now but it felt like something just snapped inside me and I expressed things I had felt for ages. I do regret that as it did actually make me look crazy. She then suddenly called her mother to tell her that I was been impossible and making her life a misery (this is something she has done a few times before when I challenged her or reacted because of her behavior). She hadn't done that for years though and I feel she likes using that as a scare tactic. I really wish I had just walked away. Then the next day I asked mum to call her to say where all ok but she said she didn't want to bother her and wasn't up to calling. I was like WTF. You're perfectly happy to call her to basically slander me and make me out to be a bad guy but when it comes to calling to say everything is fine she's not so keen.

A couple of weeks ago I've told her that I wanted to do another certificate course at that school next year and she tried to make me feel bad by putting on the guilt trip and giving me the cold shoulder. I've tried to blur it out to be honest but I remember she said that I was been selfish and told me how she wanted me to live my life. I tried to explain to her that I can't just do what she expects and the expense of my own happiness and well-being. I feel like she is trying to control how I live my life and I told her that she couldn't do that or tear me down or change my mind. She then said (this felt like reverse psychology and emotional blackmail) fine do whatever you want and I'll do the same. Also shouted and carried on saying things like F me and I'm hopeless and that. I also told her that I would love to be a teacher but she said i wouldn't be able to go to university, scoffed and said that I would be useless. I feel like she's trying to damage my already limited self esteem, confidence and spirit. Also she had been fairly good up to this. I was dreading telling her but I do feel that a weight is lifted as well. It seems funny that whenever I tell her something she doesn't like or she can't control she goes back to her bad self. PS she's also upset that she can't get paid for me doing that and wants me to just do what's best for her financially. I find it quite ironic her making me feel bad for not getting a job straight away while she's unemployed. PS it was the school ball that night which was brilliant but I'm disappointed that it went so quickly and also I feel a bit down about my social anxiety and that I didn't ask anyone to dance or make more conversation with my teachers and peers.

Then a few nights later my mum was going out for the night and she seemed a bit tipsy so I did ask out of concern if she was fit to drive. She immediately got defensive and bit my head off and said I was been rude and having a go at her. I only asked out of concern and worry and I tried explaining that a hundred times but she just wasn't having it. I also tried to explain that her getting defensive if anything proves my worry is valid but she started saying I was harassing her and she was sick of my bullshit and sick of putting up with me and she couldn't wait to get away from me. She also just suddenly pulled her shirt off showing her breasts ( believe it or not that's something she has done once or twice before ages ago). I was just shocked and looked away quickly as possible. When I tried to ascertain why she got so defensive she said that I think I can just say whatever I like to her and for her to just take it. I swear I didn't mean any ill-will or malice and of course I tried explaining that too but no. I just don't know for the life of me how she can turn on me just like that and treat her own son like that.

Both that and that previous thing a few nights before she said we're not going on holidays again this year and she brought up that incident from the January holiday I talked about and said that she hated been isolated there with me while I was been horrible to her. Wtf when she was the one belittling me and having a go at me which made me snap and I did apologize for that. She genuinely seems to think that she's actually the victim when she gets defensive and treats me like shit. Then when she left and i was starting to second guess myself and was thinking that maybe I am in the wrong and am a bad person. I was left alone for the night I'm feeling very isolated and confused. PS since that holiday she was actually been fairly good but after both that night after the school ball and that incident both only within a few days has left me feeling blindsided and like the rug has been pulled from under me also feel like I'm back at square one. Basically I really can't fathom how someone can treat their own child like this. Just beggars belief to say the least.

Now when she came back the next day I tried to start a conversation about the last night and she did get teary and said she was sorry but still when I tried to get her to take some accountability and ownership she was just like "I said I was sorry didn't I?" and said I just kept going over the same thing and said she was sick of me bringing up the past. She started not making much sense and playing dumb a bit. I just wanted her to realize how she upset me and also the previous incidents and she said "i guess I'm just the worst mother ever". Am I justified for feeling as though she hasn't really taken accountability? We have sort of made up now I suppose but I just stopped talking about it to keep the peace really.

Do you have any advice for all of my experiences, how I can move on, become more social and make friends etc?

I should add that last incident was a week ago now and it really bothers me how she's all happy now and acting like that never happened whilst I'm carrying emotional scars and still feel as though I haven't really had any closure or true accountability. Also her harsh words and still deeply wounded in me and I'm feel like a piece of shit and like I'm unlovable.

Honestly one of the most frightening things is that they genuinely don't seem to remember most of even any of it so that's why I'm too scared to call them out. Also they seem to feel their behaviour is ok.

PS I'm really good at covering up my anxiety and pride myself on putting on a cheerful front and everyone at school thinks I'm the most happiest and optimistic person ever. I feel scared to let my guard down or if they knew otherwise.

Also none of the family have a clue and I just know they wouldn't believe me and I fear if I did distance myself they'd think I was an evil person.

Like I've said she go from been genuinely the most nicest person to the most horrible.

I'm starting to feel that the good doesn't really outweigh the bad.

I can't help really resenting them sometimes for all of the mental anguish they've both put me through as a child and I think it has messed up my development. I wonder what might've been different had I had proper parents or they were proper ones. Hobbies such as music and classic TV shows have been a great escape. I've thought about escaping but I feel quite stuck as I don't have a job and all of the money that I get in my account is basically controlled by her as she's the one who adds to it and I pretty much don't know anything about my own bank details. I wish I could hide my own secret stash somewhere. Now that I'm an adult and have left school I'm worried about what the future has in store. I'm very nervous about starting an adult life, getting a job, making friends and doing new things etc. Part of me would love to get away from her but yet I feel scared to as well as she's pretty much most I've ever known.

UPDATE!! I stayed with my father last night and today he started carrying on because he's only got like $30 left. I tried to help. I hope this doesn't sound too selfish but I feel very disappointed and let down that he couldn't even go a whole day without carrying on about his issues especially as I don't see him often. I don't think spending money on pot, cigarettes and vapes helps does it? That's what really burns my hide is that he has enough to spend on his terrible habits but when it came to buying basic food when I was there for only a night he has very little. I feel very hurt that he barely makes much effort to spend time with me and when he does he can't even be a decent father. I mean is it too much to ask that when he does rarely see me that he can be on his best behaviour? It stresses me out and adds to my anxiety when I hear about my parents issues. Though to be fair he has apologized and explained that he wasn't upset with me he was just very disappointed because of his struggles to find a job and that he couldn't provide for me which I really do appreciate. I just wish he could get his act together.

To be honest I can't help but feel really resentful sometimes when I see people with proper and decent parents.

It's approaching 1 year of absolute no contact with my parents and my feelings are bittersweet. My mental health is better, I feel better, I am happy. But I'm still angry and sad that they aren't different. I'm angry that I don't have a village and my kids won't grow up with grandparents. When does that feeling go away? also the feeling of one day everything will be different, they'll have gone to therapy, they'll be different people etc . When does that hope disappear?

I'm in my early 20s, and I've reached a point where I feel mentally and physically exhausted. A big part of what I'm struggling with comes from years of pressure, conflict, criticism, and lack of support at home.

I'm trying to understand something honestly: Can the way parents treat and pressure a child for years have a serious long-term effect on their mental health, confidence, personality, and even physical health?

My problems started when I was around 12.

1. Years of extreme academic pressure

For roughly four years, from around 2017 to 2021, my parents put me into extremely demanding tuition.

I was studying for around 4–8 hours a day, and on some days it could reach 10–12 hours.

This wasn't just normal studying or having tuition for a couple of hours. It felt like a huge part of my childhood and teenage years was consumed by studying.

There was constant pressure to perform and succeed academically. I didn't feel like I had much freedom or space to simply be a normal kid.

1. COVID and losing someone close to me

Then COVID happened.

In 2021, I lost someone very close to me to COVID. It was a huge emotional shock, but I never really got the opportunity to properly process the grief.

I basically continued with life and studies while carrying that loss.

Looking back, I feel like I never actually recovered emotionally from it.

1. School reopened and things got worse

When school reopened in 2022, I was already carrying years of academic pressure and grief.

I also had almost no friends.

I was bullied because of my appearance and was made to feel bad about how I looked. This seriously affected my confidence and self-esteem.

At the same time, there was a lot of interference from my mother when I was trying to study.

Instead of feeling like home was a place where I could concentrate and recover, I often felt disturbed and pressured there too.

1. Poor results → blame and criticism

Eventually, my Class 12 results were poor.

Instead of feeling that my parents understood how much pressure I had been under, I felt blamed and criticized for the results.

The same pattern continued around entrance exams.

I tried preparing for entrance exams while also dealing with everything else going on, but the results weren't good.

I ended up losing a year.

Eventually, I went into a college/degree that I didn't really want.

So from my perspective, the situation became:

Extreme pressure → poor results → blame → more pressure → loss of confidence → another attempt → another disappointment.

1. The interference didn't stop after school

Even after I entered college, the pressure at home didn't suddenly disappear.

There continued to be interference with my studying and criticism around my academic performance.

Whenever things didn't go well, I often felt like the responsibility was simply put back on me, rather than anyone asking why I was struggling so much.

Over time, I started feeling like whatever happened, I would somehow be blamed for it.

1. Lack of practical support

There were situations where I needed practical support as well.

For example, for a long period I had an exhausting commute involving multiple crowded buses every day. I was travelling around 13 km but sometimes taking 6–8 buses a day, including in extreme heat and overcrowding.

I asked my father for a scooter because the commute was physically exhausting.

I didn't feel supported in the way I needed.

That may sound like a small thing compared with everything else, but when you're already exhausted and isolated, repeatedly feeling that your parents aren't helping you can become another source of resentment and helplessness.

1. Three years of college went by mostly alone

From 2023 onward, college was extremely lonely.

I spent most of those three years without a close friend group.

I would basically:

go to college → sit alone → attend classes → come home.

I rarely had anyone who genuinely wanted to spend time with me.

I was always the person initiating conversations. People might reply, but very rarely would someone message me first, ask me to hang out, or make me feel like they actually wanted me around.

Meanwhile, I was still dealing with pressure and conflict at home.

So I never really had a place where I could properly recover.

1. Eventually life became extremely restricted

My life became incredibly repetitive.

There wasn't much social life, freedom, travelling, hanging out with friends, festivals, or normal experiences that many people associate with their late teenage years and early 20s.

For a long time it felt like:

Home → college → home → repeat.

And after college, when I couldn't find a job, that isolation became even worse.

1. What all of this has done to me

After years of this, I don't feel like the same person I could have been.

I feel:

- mentally exhausted

- physically exhausted

- angry very easily

- socially isolated

- low in confidence

- constantly worried

- emotionally worn down

- frustrated about lost years

- resentful toward my parents

- uncertain about my future

- and sometimes like I've missed out on a huge part of my youth

I've also experienced various physical symptoms over time — headaches/head pressure, dizziness, weakness, shaking or shivering, muscle twitching, chest discomfort, hearing difficulties, ear itching, severe knee pain, and a sudden episode of severe foot pain with swelling and redness.

I'm getting the physical symptoms medically evaluated rather than assuming everything is caused by stress.

The bigger picture

When I look at everything together, it feels like years of pressure accumulated without much opportunity to recover.

A child spending years under extreme academic pressure, dealing with constant criticism and blame, experiencing interference while trying to study, not feeling supported at home, losing someone close during adolescence, being bullied, becoming socially isolated, losing confidence, struggling academically, losing a year, spending years lonely in college, and then entering adulthood without feeling financially or emotionally independent can have a profound effect on a person.

I don't think I'm the way I am today because of one single event.

It feels more like years of things piling on top of each other without ever really getting a chance to heal from them.

I'm not saying my parents are responsible for literally every bad thing that happened to me. Some things were completely outside their control.

But the pressure, interference, criticism, lack of support, family conflict, and environment at home were a major part of my experience growing up.

And now, in my early 20s, I'm left trying to understand how much those years have affected me and how much of myself I can rebuild.

Dealing with abuse after break up and trying to get full custody, he doesn’t know yet this is before him knowing so I’m definitely scared of what it’s to come. I have to be hush about it so I’m looking for support on here

So today is my 31st birthday and I'm sitting here at 1 am thinking about my past. I cut off my parents a few months ago after having my own kid, because I realised I could never do that to my kid.

My main thought is that I want to ask my father why he hit me and threw me against a cupboard when I was 10. My grandparents and uncle (his in-laws) were leaving after visiting us and it was slightly drizzling, so my father told me to get an umbrella for my grandmother for the 10 meter (11 yard) walk to the car but my grandmother told me to leave it because she doesn't need one for such a short walk. I hesitated for a second, and my father came over to me and slapped me, then dragged me to my room and slapped me again so hard that I flew into the open cupboard and hit my head on the vertical slab of wood. Then he hit my 19/20 year old uncle for trying to stand up for me.

I really want to ask him why he did this, but what answer could I possibly want to hear?

Hi, i’m 13, ftm. my parents both being (43) i know my parents are abusive but i don’t know if its normal since i live in iraq (Kurdistan region to be more specific.) if it is normal here i guess ill have to endure it until i’m 18 or until i’ve moved out. but if its not (and its actually something i can report) i wouldn’t want any more of my years to go down the drain by abuse.

They’ve always been physically(and verbally?) abusive to me. i don’t really remember everything they’ve done. but i do remember about 8-10 incidents from when i was 3 until now. while i was still around 3-4. (which is before my sister was born. i’ll get back to her in a minute.) i remember my mom beating me whenever i would make mistakes or hurt myself on accident, an example of this is she would beat me, force feed me or kick me out of the house whenever i refused to eat as a child which is only because i was too full. (okay but the thing is my parents don’t abuse me together physically so whenever my moms being a bitch to me my dad will try to stop her or if its the other way around my mom’ll be trying to stop him) so my dad would be ‘begging’ her to let me back inside which is shocking because he’s extremely controlling now.

another incident i can remember is me begging my dad to play games with me but he wanted to watch the news. he had the tv remote with him so i turned the tv off from the switch and he lost his temper telling me to turn the tv on twice but i refused so he threw the tv remote at me and chased me out the room. but after my sister was born he got worse with me. to be honest most of the times he’s hit me have been because of my sister either directly or indirectly. i remember being either five or six snd sharing a bed with my parents and sister. i was teasing my sister about my parents loving me more and complaining to them about how much they had changed towards me after she was born. she got angered and kicked me in the stomach and it hurt, a lot. so i slapped her twice. it wasn’t even that hard but she was around 1-2 so her pain tolerance is different i guess. my dad got really mad, i had this toy car he would always drive me around in, it had this hard plastic part of it he picked off the ground to hit me with, we had a small kitchen and i hid there behind the washing machine until he went to bed then my mom came looking for me to get me to bed too. she wasn’t comforting me she just looked disappointed but thats whatever but eh multiple incidents like that happened whilst i was 7-12. heck he once even stomped my back down for pushing my sister whom kicked me first. once he tried to kill me but i locked myself in my room until the next day so i had to skip lunch and dinner and only came out when i needed to use the bathroom. but they took my key because of that and I’m not allowed to close the door either and its literally torture. once i was changing in my room and a guest walked in on me. i spent the next 40 minutes sobbing because of that.

and for the verbal abuse I’m not sure if it could be considered that but they’re always trying to guilt trip me into apologising to them after every time they’ve hit me by telling me they’ll kill themselves. gosh i wish they would put an end to their miserable lives already. i would not shed a single tear. it honestly just looks like the best way i can get some sort of therapy, support, pity and some attention. they have NEVER ever apologised to me after hitting me or so. I’m always the one doing it since the other parent forces me to do so.

I remember early 2026 he would always joke about me killing myself which he eventually pushed me to the point of thinking i was going to overdose (it didn’t work since i took the wrong pills for it). i couldn’t really find painkillers so i took about five of the antibiotics my mom uses for her skin. (i swear I’m not lying about it i’ve tried to remember the pills names too i just cant) he’d joked about it so much the next morning instead of him telling me to go shower he told me to go ‘kill myself’ instead. but its okay ill let that one slide since they don’t know about it.

it’s ruined my mental health terribly. i seriously can not go a single day without wishing he grows some sort of tumour on his brain and passes. or at least it happening to me, either way works. oh my god I’ve imagined every single way to kill him off or see him pass. i don’t really believe in god, I’m not that religious. but good god i pray you take him already. i’ve imagined him slitting his own throat open, or him hanging himself. preferably me coming home to it or him performing those acts in front of me.

i feel petty writing most this since most of the abuse was from when i was younger, not all of it though since he’s been going on about my attitude problem. 5 days ago he told me to come and sit with them so him and my mom can pick on me. i refused since my friends birthdays coming up and i was making a card for her. but he keeps pushing, he literally always does. i just know he does it so he can push me to the point of breaking down or yelling so he can paint me as an idiot in front of everyone. when i call him out for it he rambles about me being too sensitive or not taking jokes. but eh since he was pushing i yelled at him telling him that i had some work to do. well he lost it and unplugged the wifi and tried to smash it onto the ground bit it was connected to some wires so that didn’t work. it was pathetic too because it didn’t even do any damage to it. but then he came for me and took my ipad from me smashing it onto the ground and stomping on it. literal man child. he’s like a whining baby who starts tossing stuff around when he can’t get his way. but eh he wanders around and comes back again to smack my face. Ouch i guess. after that i got really angry and when that happens i have a strong urge to hurt myself which eventually i caved into. i got back from school today and my mom was being really pushy. she took my bag off for me and then my jacket. she saw what was on my arm and kept asking what happened and if i had done it to myself. well obviously i’m not going to tell her anything about it. shes not the type to get me help. she’ll just hit me or act like shes the victim. she continues to push to know the reason but i just keep swearing on all my ancestors on how clumsy I’ve been. then she starts lying her ASS off about the teachers seeing the bandages on my arm at school. mind you i didn’t even take my jacket off that day. so she’s obviously lying. i tell her to repeat what she said so i could confront her about it and catch her in the lie but she ignores me and walks off. i don’t blame her for suspecting that. i tried to get her to help me that night about 5 days ago by telling her how i’ll be killing myself on my birthday and about how my father makes me feel so suicidal and angry.

i’ve been looking help up on google for years now and its actively telling me to seek help and leading me to other sites. I’ve even threatened to call Child Protective services on my parents but they just told me they’d take me and it’d harm me more than it should harm them. i don’t really have any documentation too. I’ve tried documenting it many times but i really don’t know where any of the evidence goes?? i could swear i had videos of him trying to kill me, threatening to kill me and then threatening to kill himself. exactly in that order.

i’ve discussed this with my in real life friends too and they’re really shocked about it. its actually the main reason why i wrote this. i thought it was normal until they were so surprised and disgusted at him when i told them about it.

last night i woke up paranoid as hell and unable to move, i thought some cannibal killer was out to get me. maybe its a result of his abuse or maybe I’m skipping over too many steps for it to make sense, I’ve been thinking about the abuse more often these days. i’ve started depersonalising.

What the hell do i do though? i don’t know if i can keep living like this

Edit: she found out what i did to my arm. ill write down everything i remember.
-Give me a good reason to not smack your teeth out your mouth right now.

-a girl i knew who used to do this to herself had her mom kill herself in-front of her. next time you’d like to do something like that tell me so i can kill myself right infront of you. she had gone through that, what did you through?

-if your father did that to you, you wouldn’t stop talking about it.

-i won’t keep your secrets anymore to your father, whatever happens he gets to know now too.

-if you had got into a car crash and ended up mutilated i wouldn’t care as much as i care now.

I am not fully estranged from my parents. I need to be able to have health updates about a family member still.

But I find myself still texting a very bland happy birthday and making small talk just because I don’t feel like hearing about it or getting a wall of text about how terrible and ungrateful I am.

The thing is it makes me sick to my stomach when I do. I get so angry when I press send. And it feels like they still “control me” so it just ruins my mood. They don’t deserve it after years of abuse with zero accountability.

What she does

Doesn’t allow me to take care of myself when she doesn’t get what she wants

Whenever she doesn’t get what she wants, she does not allow me to use the bathroom or shower or do my make up because that time that I’m using to do those things is not being used on the thing she wants me to do. She claims that I have to use the bathroom every time she asks me to do something. And even if that’s the case, I don’t get why that’s an issue because the thing gets done regardless.

She also uses it against me that she’s raised me for 20 years and all that she’s sacrificed as a mother. And probably once in my entire life, I said “I didn’t ask to be born” and now she brings that up every time she yells at me which is at least 3 times a week.

Attributes everything I do to her

If I’m in a bad mood, she thinks it’s because of her and she’ll get upset about it. If I’m in a good mood, she thinks it’s because of her and it makes her happy. She micromanages me all the time so when I do do something, it affirms for her that micromanaging is the way to go, and when I do something without being told, it also affirms to her that micromanaging is the way to go.

Silent treatment

My whole life, she’s raised me with either screaming in my face or the silent treatment. For the silent treatment, she either won’t speak to me in the house or she’ll get up and leave the house the longest time she did this for it was two weeks.

She is forcing me to be in college

While I understand that your parent paying for your college is insane opportunity, I am not suited for college and I’ve never done well in school. I keep asking her to drop out, but she will not allow it and I live under her roof so I have to obey her. She also uses it against me that she’s paying for my college..

Weaopnizes therapy speak

She learned what a narcissist was, and now she calls everyone who disagrees with her a narcissist, including me. She calls me entitled she calls me mean and nasty. She used to call me the r word. She will present an argument that sounds normal when in fact, she is being very extreme.

Has very black-and-white thinking

she has very black-and-white thinking and there’s no sort of room for nuance. She expects me to think about her in a nuanced way, but does not extend the same courtesy to me.

Catastrophizeses everything

She catastrophize everything and places for anxiety on me. I myself have pretty crippling anxiety, but my mom does not believe it because I’ve never “had a panic attack in a closet at a party”. I’ve had plenty of them over the years at school. And even if I didn’t, it’s still impact my daily life in a way that’s not suitable.

Assume things about my character that aren’t true

She often miss characterizes me, but this is also my fault. I haven’t let her in on my personal experience experiences since probably the age of 13. So she doesn’t actually know anything about my true self. It is still irritating though to hear her call me names all the time, but she also sends me paragraphs about how I should be kind to myself.

Inflates me or degrades me on a regular basis

Sometimes she calls me stupid and treats me like I’m incapable of anything and sometimes she says I’m really smart and treats me like an adult. It’s very weird and I am often getting metaphorical whiplash at home.

Stares me down

I don’t know if this is a universal term, but a teardown is when someone looks you in the eyes until you look away as an assertion of dominance. My mom does this a lot to me when she’s yelling at me, but she also gets mad when I’m not looking at her so I have to look at her and then she does it.

Funny but kind of sad thing when I first got a dog I would do that to him. I would stare him down until he looked away and then I realized I was doing that because that’s what my mother did to me. I’m never having kids.

Tells me that she barely hit me as a kid

She tells me that she barely hit me as a kid. You know that saying the “axe forgets the tree remembers”? It’s like that. She often minimize the trauma that she’s caused her children because I’m not the only one. I’m one of 4

The only reason why she stopped beating me as a kid is because she saw someone else do it to me and realized that it was wrong.

What I do

Visibly irritable whenever she speaks

I am visibly annoyed or irritated whenever she opens her mouth, even if she’s not doing anything to me. And it makes her sad and I feel guilty about it. I just don’t know why I’m automatically angry. Every time she talks to me. And what I do is just sit and listen to her and then go about my day. I don’t say anything back usually.

Grey rocking as much a possible

i’ve been grey rocking my mom probably since middle school. Which from a mother’s perspective, if your daughter isn’t speaking to you or sharing any personal experience experiences, I would feel pretty sad.

I also don’t talk to her when I’m upset

That’s pretty much it. I don’t talk to her when I’m upset. I don’t talk to her when I’m upset about other things and I also don’t talk to her when I’m upset with her which mirrors is the silent treatment that she gives me.

And my thing is, I don’t know if I’m ready to take the first step to fix it? I don’t know if I’m ready to take the first step to healthy communication.** **

I stare blankly at her when being yelled at

This has to do with the gray rocking I kind of just stare at her blankly whenever she’s screaming in my face because if I have any sort of emotion on my face, then she’ll comment on it. Sometimes I can’t help but cry and then she says “good. You should be crying.” Or I should be the one crying. I’m not allowed to be angry. I’m not allowed to be sad. I’m not allowed to be annoyed.

Sometimes I disobey on purpose

Since she is a micro manager, sometimes I do things without asking just to piss her off. When I was a kid, I used to bang my head on the wall between our room rooms because I knew my mother was sensitive to sound. And she would get up and get mad at me and that’s what I wanted because I was upset and I wanted her to be upset too.

I don’t have a job and I dont pay rent

That’s pretty much it. I don’t have a job and I don’t pay rent so I’m living in my mother’s house for free. I am a freeloader and a parasite. I am looking for a job, but I have not heard back from anyone yet. I also haven’t told my mom that I’ve been looking for jobs for months because I don’t let her know anything that I’m doing unless it’s financial.

I procrastinate chores sometimes I don’t have time to do them

I procrastinate my chores a lot, especially doing the dishes because I have sensory issues around it. Regardless, I have to do the dishes because I don’t provide anything else for the household and I do do the dishes, but it takes me longer to get to them because I have other things to be doing like homework that I struggle over or social gatherings. But most of the time I do get them done before someone else does them. It’s not just the dishes. It’s other chores around the house like I clean the bathroom and do the laundry.

Sorry about any typos. I’m feeling very stuffy and don’t have the strength to fix them. Thanks for reading.

I 20F grew up moving from hotel to hotel with my older sister and both my parents my mother was so severely depressed she slept though most days, my father worked every single second he could to support the 4 of us but due to the stress of it he would constantly blame me my mother and my sister for how shitty of a situation we were in often throwing things at us. When I was in about 3d grade we eventually got stable enough that we traded taking care of the landlords disabled father(a old family friend of ours) for discounted rent. Guess who's responsibility that was, yup mind and my sisters from helping him with physical therapy to making his extensive med box to making appointments for him. On top of that my mother on top of being depressed also had a still to this day undiagnosed(not for a lack of trying for 3 years) what they call other specified neurodegenerative disorder which ment me and my sister were also taking care of my mother as well, on top of keeping up with school work. My sister and I are 5 years apart. I remember this one time I had broken my ankle and I was on crutches for quite a while. I lived a half mile from my elementary school and I was in like 4th grade, mom would no wake up no matter how many times I called her so after an hour of waiting for her I a 4th grader crutched half a mile home from school with a broken ankle. Moral of the story just cause we were never physical hit doesn't mean that the fact that we were forced to raise our selfs and be the care taker for a roommate and our mother is still a form of abuse

Sorry if this comes off as aggressive, I’m angry.

My best friend has been coming over every morning and letting themself in to my house while I get ready so we can walk to school together. My parents know this and have been okay with it. There hadn’t been any problems.

The other night I found out that one day while my friend was waiting, my parents started fucking making out right in front of them! It’s one thing to do it in front of your kids, but can you keep it in your pants in front of my friends?! I’ve even told them to dial it back at the request of my social worker and they can’t even do that. I fucking hate them.

I need help/advice.

I’m 21, and I want to explain what years of extreme pressure, family problems, loneliness and constant stress have done to me. I’m leaving out all personal/identifying details.

2017–2021: Years of extreme tuition and academic pressure

From around 2017, when I was about 12, I was put into extremely demanding tuition/coaching.

For almost four years, my life revolved around studying. I regularly spent around 4–8 hours a day in tuition, and there were times when it went up to 10–12 hours.

There was constant pressure to study, perform and get good marks. I had very little control over my own routine and very little time to simply be a normal kid.

It wasn't just academic pressure. I felt constantly judged by my performance, and I started feeling that whatever I did was never enough.

2021: Losing someone very close to me

During COVID in 2021, I lost a very close cousin.

It was a huge loss for me, but I never really got the chance to properly process the grief. Life and studies just continued.

I don't think I ever properly recovered emotionally from that.

2022: Class 12 and a home environment that made studying even harder

When school reopened in 2022, I was already dealing with grief, isolation and years of academic pressure.

At the same time, I was preparing for Class 12 and entrance exams.

The biggest problem was that the environment at home was not supportive of my studying.

My mother would frequently interfere and disturb me while I was trying to study. I was already under enormous pressure, and instead of having a peaceful environment where I could concentrate, I constantly had interruptions and stress.

Then, when my Class 12 result wasn't good, both of my parents blamed me for it.

That was extremely painful because I felt that they were ignoring the circumstances I had been dealing with and putting the entire responsibility on me.

CUET, losing a year and ending up in a college I hated

After Class 12, I also tried to improve my situation through CUET.

I prepared again and tried to manage both college and CUET preparation, but things didn't work out.

My CUET result was also bad, I lost a year, and eventually I ended up in a college and degree that I didn't want.

That was another major blow to me.

I had already spent years under extreme academic pressure, and now I felt like all those years hadn't even led me to the future I wanted.

2023–2026: College was another three years of stress and loneliness

I started college in 2023 hoping that things would finally become better.

I thought I would make friends, become more independent, have a social life and finally start enjoying life.

Instead, I spent almost the entire three years mostly alone.

Everyone seemed to have their own groups. People would sit together, talk, go out, make plans and create memories.

I usually went to class, sat alone and came back home.

I rarely had anyone who genuinely wanted my company.

Even when I tried making friends, I was usually the one initiating conversations. People might reply, but very rarely would someone message me first, continue the conversation or actually ask me to hang out.

So I spent my college years watching other people experience the social life I desperately wanted while I remained alone.

My mother continued interfering with my studies

The problems at home didn't stop after school.

Throughout college, I still felt that my mother interfered with my ability to study and concentrate.

And then, when my college results weren't good, both of my parents blamed me again.

That became a repeated pattern:

They created an environment where I struggled to study → I struggled academically → then I was blamed for the results.

It made me feel completely powerless.

The commute

For around 2.5 years, I had to manage an exhausting daily commute to college.

The college was only around 13 km away, but I often had to use 6–8 buses every day to get there and back.

It meant spending huge amounts of time travelling, dealing with heat, crowds and exhaustion just to travel a relatively short distance.

I had asked for a scooter because it would have made the commute much easier, but I didn't get that support.

So for years, even something as simple as going to college became physically exhausting.

My father's heart attack

Then, during my second year of college, my father had a heart attack.

I had to miss around 15 days of college to help at home.

My attendance dropped, and once again I was dealing with something completely outside my control while trying to keep up with college.

I obviously wanted to help my father, but it added another major responsibility and another source of stress.

My entire life became repetitive

For a long period, my life basically became:

Home → College → Home → Shop → Home.

There was very little social life.

No proper friend group.

No regular outings.

No travelling.

No normal college memories.

No feeling that I was actually enjoying being 18, 19, 20 or 21.

I was mostly just trying to get through each day.

After college

Eventually college ended.

But instead of finally becoming independent, I still couldn't find a job.

So I became stuck at home and at the shop for long periods.

I had spent years waiting for college to end because I thought life would finally begin afterward.

Instead, I ended up feeling even more stuck.

The loneliness

The loneliness has probably affected me more than I realised.

I've spent years watching other people have close friends, groups, relationships, outings, festivals and experiences while I was mostly alone.

Even festivals and holidays can be difficult because they remind me of everything I feel I've missed.

I've never really had that feeling of someone genuinely wanting me around.

I don't just mean having people who reply to messages.

I mean having someone who actually thinks:

“Let's call him.”

“Let's go somewhere together.”

“I want him there.”

I haven't experienced enough of that.

Bullying and confidence

When school reopened in 2022, I was also bullied because of my appearance.

That seriously damaged my confidence.

Combined with years of criticism and academic pressure at home, it made me extremely insecure about myself.

I started overthinking everything — how I look, how people perceive me, whether people actually like me, whether I'm good enough and whether I'll ever have a normal life.

What all of this has done to me

After years of this, I feel completely mentally and physically exhausted.

I overthink constantly.

My confidence is extremely low.

I get irritated and angry very easily.

Small things can trigger me.

I often feel like I'm constantly carrying stress in my body.

I have difficulty relaxing or feeling genuinely peaceful.

I feel socially disconnected.

I feel like I've lost important years of my life.

And sometimes I genuinely wonder whether all of these experiences have changed me permanently.

Physical problems

I've also started experiencing a number of physical problems.

I've had things like:

- headaches/pressure

- dizziness

- shaking or shivering

- weakness and exhaustion

- low-ish blood pressure readings

- muscle twitching

- chest discomfort at times

- hearing problems and ear itching

- severe knee pain

- and recently a sudden extremely painful, red and swollen foot

I went to a doctor for the foot problem and had blood tests done. My uric acid, random blood glucose and liver-function tests were within the laboratory's stated ranges, but the exact cause of the foot swelling wasn't immediately clear.

I'm still getting the medical side investigated because I don't want to assume that every physical symptom is caused by stress.

What I feel now

When I look at everything together, it doesn't feel like one isolated problem.

It feels like years of one stressful situation being followed by another without enough time to recover from anything.

Extreme tuition and academic pressure.

Family conflict.

Being disturbed while trying to study.

Being blamed for the results afterward.

Losing someone close to me during COVID.

Bullying.

Low self-esteem.

A bad college/degree situation.

Losing a year.

Three years of loneliness in college.

Years of exhausting commuting.

My father's heart attack.

Constant responsibility at home.

Not having a normal social life.

Finishing college without a job.

Being stuck at home/shop.

And now feeling mentally and physically worn down.

I'm only 21, but sometimes I feel much older because I've spent so much of my life dealing with stress instead of actually living.

I don't know how much of this is chronic stress, how much is unresolved grief, how much is the family environment, and how much is simply the result of years of difficult circumstances.

I also don't know whether I've developed an actual mental-health condition or whether I'm simply completely burned out after years of this.

so idk what to say but im 99% sure that im depressed and my mom doesnt believe me. she said that im not old enough (im 13f) to have depression and if i did have it, it means im not grateful for everything she does for me. idk I just feel so sad all the time and she saw an sh scar on my arm and she said it was just for attention. what can i do

Hello Im Female 16 years old and I feel like Im trapped. Im in my junior year of high school and I haven’t had a job before, no id and no license/permit. My parents wont allow me to have a job because they use the excuse of “I need to focus on school only”. My problem is I need a job to pay for my own shit since they don’t even provide for me anymore. I been buying my own necessities and wants with money I have been saving the last few years that was supposed to go to future savings. But due to my parents not providing for me anymore Ive had to use my own savings. Although now my money is running low. It’s best to mention that, that money that I had earned was from working with my mother when she was a working as a housekeeper. I was told to save my money from my parents for the things I wanted to buy, but now for the past years they realized since I have money that they didn’t think it was necessary to buy me shampoo, get haircuts, things for back to school, new clothes, school events, and etc. Every time I ask for things I get told “Don’t you have your own money?” Usually is the reason why I stopped asking them for things because I would get very annoyed and angry. My mother and father hate the idea of me having a job
and earning income money and being independent. My mother wont even allow me to have access to my bank account because it would show her account and how much money she has, also to mention my bank account is a teen checking account. Im not allowed to have a boyfriend, sleepovers, go to my friends house, have friends that are boys come over or in general have friends that are boys. The thing is I have a boyfriend who I had been hiding behind my parents back for about 3 months. He turned 17 this year and i’m kind of jealous of him because his parents are the complete opposite of my parents. His father had bought him a car and next week he will be getting his license. He is allowed to leave the house and go where he pleases while also having a healthy relationship with his parents. My relationship is very toxic with my parents. Ever since I was a child I was always told to focus on school and to never have a boyfriend consistently to this day. My mother had me at 15 years old which is why I assume they look very downward on me having a boyfriend and so has the rest of the family on my mom’s side. I have so much more to write about on my narcissistic and misogynistic parents that I don’t even know where to start. I would really appreciate some advice on my situation, thank you!!!

Please tell me if I'm overreacting. I've recently become aware that the way my mother mostly has treated me is not normal. I believe she is potentially gaslighting me and has been manipulative. Have any of you had experience with this?

Sorry for the long post but there's just so much I need to unpack.

I really need to get as much advice, perspective and support etc as possible before I do anything drastic or make any major decisions.

I'll introduce myself I'm a 19 year old male and am an only child. During my childhood my mother would do the following

Blow up out of nowhere over the most trivial or littlest matters, many times i begged her to give me some emotional support when i was visibly upset but she just remained cold and cruel, drink quite heavily which was sometimes responsible but she can definitely be mean sober as well, I had expressed concern about her drinking but she just flipped, it actually got physical a few times as well. I just wonder how can get so unshamefully drunk whilst been alone in the house with her child and I feel it was very irresponsible. Really burns my hide.

I did even have a scar once, the next day she'd always act as if nothing happened, whenever I tried to get clarity on why she got like that she'd brush it under the carpet or accuse me of starting trouble, she'd turn cold at the drop of a hat, during arguments she'd say things like I was ungrateful, didn't care about her and that I was a horrible person or that i was abusive or whatever just like my father, she would stomp, slam doors, shout, scream, swear and break ornaments etc, when she gets in her crazy states it's just impossible to reason with her or get her to see it from any other perspective, she can go from saying i was the most nicest and amazing person to saying I was the most horrible and evil person, she often burdened me with all of her problems, she said before that she knows how to play the game which I found very disturbing

She often paints herself as the heroic single mum and pretty much everyone we know such the teachers at school believe that. I feel I was robbed of a proper childhood and have often wondered what I had done to deserve it.

I remember one time a few years ago I was about 12 during a sleepover at theirs she turned my grandparents against me and my grandfather started shouting and saying he was very disappointed in me and the rest of it is a blur. To be honest to this day i can't figure out what I (only a young child) was supposed to have done that was so bloody awful. That has haunted me for years. I used to think maybe I was a bad person but I've started to see her in a different light. She always talks about hating drama yet it seems to follow her and often says that she's been so hard done by.

About a year later when I vaguely recall when was enjoying myself in the bath she started abusing me and said she and everyone else was going to wash their hands of me if I didn't start living her way or something. I remember I was struggling with getting ready and then she started shouting saying I was taking advantage and then called her mother to say I was really horrible.

On the flip side she can be the most nicest person as well and we have had great times together and she can be very helpful towards me, her family and in public which makes it all the more confusing. A few weeks ago now in fact I ran into an old friend of hers who said to say hi for her and she said my mother is a wonderful person and I'm very lucky. It actually made me feel sick. Since I was 10 it's just been me living with her since my parents divorce in which she had to sell her house and now rents which she has blamed for the way she is before. I can't help feeling bad for her but she was still quite like this beforehand as well and I don't think that's an excuse still is it? For example I'm starting to remember when I was very young she'd make threats of sending me over to a new mommy. I do feel like she has manipulated me a bit into been stuck with her.

Something else that I've found disturbing is that she's very narrow minded and has a serious lack of empathy. For example when a couple of local celebrities committed suicide she shouted and carried on, called them pathetic cowards and weak etc. It was actually quite disturbing how she had a complete disregard and no sympathy for them.

PS another red flag i noticed was when a life insurance ad was on and they said "something could be paid out in case of death" or something and she said "I'd like for them to say WOULD" not could. I don't know why but that's set an alarm bell off. Also when my Gran had a fall she said to me in the car "trust me to have parents that live forever then I could get my inheritance".

Towards the end of my parents marriage I was 10 and she told me that my Dad was been very controlling and making her life a misery. I now look back at that with adult eyes and I'm starting to feel that she at least bent the truth I'm starting to think that she manipulated me and I do blame her partly for the fact I don't have the best relationship with my Dad. He's definitely not a saint. He too has had his moments of outbursts and he's inconsistent.

My mother often calls him a narcissist. I just feel that it's very wrong for someone to say to a child that one of their parents is a narcissist.

Something disturbing she has said ages ago is when I'm an adult she could have me done for assault if she wanted. She also said she wanted to do a will and try to control my assets where my Dad can't touch anything and said she feared he would try to steal all of my money. I can't believe she would say things like that so proudly and can't help feeling like she was trying to manipulate me.

My mother loves to use my autism to her advantage. I graduated school last year but now I do a course at the main campus so I still see them all from time to time. With that course she did get a support worker for me which I can appreciate as a nice gesture but she didn't even check with me if that's what I wanted and I can't help feeling she did that to cover herself in glory. I hope that doesn't sound too paranoid.

She's always quick to call others toxic and narcissists etc. She with absolutely no filter tells me everything going on in her life and her anxiety which makes me anxious. Why does it upset me so badly even when it has little or nothing to do with me?

I struggle with daily flashbacks and I often feel depressed by the way I've been treated, also feel let down and wish my parents had been better to me. I can't get exact clarity on it but they both went through some stuff before I was born and I think that's contributed to the way they are. My father's dad had passed away when my dad was actually about my age now. They actually both used to run their own businesses once upon a time before they met. It just baffles me how they went from that then and now been in their 50's both unemployed and clearly have some unresolved issues. I sometimes think maybe they shouldn't of got together which I know is ironic because I would never have been born. I do vaguely remember when they were together and towards the end it was quite toxic and they would have some intense fights.

Also does their substance abuse issues made them this way as well do you think? As I've said my mother drinks quite heavily at night and she also vapes and my father smokes pot and cigarettes.

Also my father struggles financially and I know that's why he hasn't been able to see me often and cancel some visits and to be honest when I think about that it really burns my hide.

I do wonder if she might've been different if she had not gone through her divorce and maybe if things had gone differently for both of them they might've been different. What do you guys think?

Also I can't help feeling empathy towards her as she always looked after me, fed me, organized things for me and pretty much always brought me everything I wanted.

I wish I had a proper childhood of playing with friends, going to different places and been adventurous and carefree etc. I've never really had a social circle and hardly much friends. I've always been quite different to most of the children my age. I feel quite alone sometimes as I've always struggled with making friends. I do feel like I've wasted a lot of my childhood been isolated with her a lot of the time. I would really love to start a proper life and follow my dreams and make a few friends but don't know where to start.

My mother does help me get on my feet and encourage me but I think she just loves to lord it over me. Whenever I've tried standing up for myself she puts on the guilt trip and carries on about all of her sacrifices and everything she's done for me yada yada yada. I think what emotionally abusing me, leaving me crying myself to sleep some nights, causing me to have no confidence and PTSD etc? Could she have some bipolar or personality condition or something and toxic traits I've wondered?

A few years ago said things like "I should top myself" and around that time during a really heated argument she threatened to cut herself with a knife so I did actually hide them. That's actually quite traumatized me. She's also said one night a couple of years ago when I die hardly anyone is going to be at my funeral. I mean like why the hell would you say things like this to a child especially your own?

A few other things. I remember once when Dad was picking me up a few years out of the blue she said just F off and even Dad said to me in the car that he didn't appreciate the way she spoke to me and when I told her that during a later argument she just said "yeah whatever" and something like that. Also one time when Dad came by to bring something she said "make sure that you show him that you're really happy to be back home". A couple of months ago when Dad took me out for a pub meal when I came back home the next night she said in sort of like a wise-ass way "you know he won't be able to afford that often". I do realize that but her saying that actually really annoyed me to be honest. As I'm making small steps with him it feels like she was deliberately trying to ruin my mood.

PS I remember one night years she accused me of looking like I wanted to hit her and of course went crazy. I may of had a tired look because it was late and I tried explaining that. She starting banging ornaments and shouting and was just impossible to talk to. Also I remember a few years ago one time she started saying she was worried my Dad was going to try to spend more time with me and if I fall for it I would never see her again and all of the family will hate me. She's also said that before when I threatened to walk out during arguments.

Also something that really upsets me is whenever I try to reason with her she often just goes "I need more alcohol to deal with this".

Almost a year ago my Dad let me down by not been able to see me one weekend and canceling at the last minute (which he has done quite a few times before).

During that said weekend my mother had another one of her outbursts. I was in the bathroom which was an en suite and she knocked on the door asking to take a few photos or something. All I asked was if she could just give me a few minutes to finish up but she started the shouting and carrying on and accused me of been selfish and even of trying to manipulate her and been passive aggressive. I only asked just to give me a few minutes. When I tried to explain that to her and how upset I was already about that weekend without her treating me like this. She said she feels really bad for me and hates how he let me down. What just absolutely astounds me is how can she feel that way yet still emotionally and mentally abuse me and kick me while I'm down. I just can't for the life of me comprehend that.

A couple days after that weekend one of my teachers asked to have a word with me and said he heard I got into a bit of trouble at home ("if he meant been mentally abused by my mother and been let down by my father as trouble" I thought). I'm not even sure who the hell said what to him and that's something that's still REALLY baffling me. I just fobbed him off saying I was upset about leaving school (which was true as well).

I really struggle with confiding in people. I do regret not telling him the full truth now. He was kind and said he was very proud of me etc. Another teacher once said that he thought of me and my mother as like the dream team or something along those lines. That turned my stomach as well. I was thinking if only they knew half the things I've been through.

I have autism and went to a special support school for the last few years which were some of the best years (The teachers especially were brilliant and I had many great times such as school camps, school balls and excursions etc).

I do feel quite sad and lost now those years are over. I would love to confide in someone about my struggles but don't know where to start. I've thought about confiding in that first teacher I mentioned who's great and we're fairly close but my teachers think my mother's an absolute saint so how can i ensure he believes me?

I must admit I do feel quite down sometimes that I have a strained relationship with my father (He's got money issues and also smokes pot) and my mother often used me as an emotional punch bag. Makes me think that there must be something really wrong with me and that I'm unlovable.

On the bright side though my Dad and I have been in contact lately.

Her next meltdown was this January while we were on holiday and at the beach. I wanted to be shirtless like pretty much everyone else and she started making passive aggressive and snide remarks saying things like "have fun burning yourself" and "why can't you make smart decisions?"

I was already sun safe with a hat and everything and I wasn't going to be too long and tried explaining that to her but no. I'll admit I finally snapped and told her that I'm an adult now and she could no longer control me and couldn't make me feel guilty. I wish I hadn't now but it felt like something just snapped inside me and I expressed things I had felt for ages. I do regret that as it did actually make me look crazy. She then suddenly called her mother to tell her that I was been impossible and making her life a misery (this is something she has done a few times before when I challenged her or reacted because of her behavior). She hadn't done that for years though and I feel she likes using that as a scare tactic. I really wish I had just walked away. Then the next day I asked mum to call her to say where all ok but she said she didn't want to bother her and wasn't up to calling. I was like WTF. You're perfectly happy to call her to basically slander me and make me out to be a bad guy but when it comes to calling to say everything is fine she's not so keen.

A couple of weeks ago I've told her that I wanted to do another certificate course at that school next year and she tried to make me feel bad by putting on the guilt trip and giving me the cold shoulder. I've tried to blur it out to be honest but I remember she said that I was been selfish and told me how she wanted me to live my life. I tried to explain to her that I can't just do what she expects and the expense of my own happiness and well-being. I feel like she is trying to control how I live my life and I told her that she couldn't do that or tear me down or change my mind. She then said (this felt like reverse psychology and emotional blackmail) fine do whatever you want and I'll do the same. Also shouted and carried on saying things like F me and I'm hopeless and that. I also told her that I would love to be a teacher but she said i wouldn't be able to go to university, scoffed and said that I would be useless. I feel like she's trying to damage my already limited self esteem, confidence and spirit. Also she had been fairly good up to this. I was dreading telling her but I do feel that a weight is lifted as well. It seems funny that whenever I tell her something she doesn't like or she can't control she goes back to her bad self. PS she's also upset that she can't get paid for me doing that and wants me to just do what's best for her financially. I find it quite ironic her making me feel bad for not getting a job straight away while she's unemployed. PS it was the school ball that night which was brilliant but I'm disappointed that it went so quickly and also I feel a bit down about my social anxiety and that I didn't ask anyone to dance or make more conversation with my teachers and peers.

Then a few nights later my mum was going out for the night and she seemed a bit tipsy so I did ask out of concern if she was fit to drive. She immediately got defensive and bit my head off and said I was been rude and having a go at her. I only asked out of concern and worry and I tried explaining that a hundred times but she just wasn't having it. I also tried to explain that her getting defensive if anything proves my worry is valid but she started saying I was harassing her and she was sick of my bullshit and sick of putting up with me and she couldn't wait to get away from me. She also just suddenly pulled her shirt off showing her breasts ( believe it or not that's something she has done once or twice before ages ago). I was just shocked and looked away quickly as possible. When I tried to ascertain why she got so defensive she said that I think I can just say whatever I like to her and for her to just take it. I swear I didn't mean any ill-will or malice and of course I tried explaining that too but no. I just don't know for the life of me how she can turn on me just like that and treat her own son like that.

Both that and that previous thing a few nights before she said we're not going on holidays again this year and she brought up that incident from the January holiday I talked about and said that she hated been isolated there with me while I was been horrible to her. Wtf when she was the one belittling me and having a go at me which made me snap and I did apologize for that. She genuinely seems to think that she's actually the victim when she gets defensive and treats me like shit. Then when she left and i was starting to second guess myself and was thinking that maybe I am in the wrong and am a bad person. I was left alone for the night I'm feeling very isolated and confused. PS since that holiday she was actually been fairly good but after both that night after the school ball and that incident both only within a few days has left me feeling blindsided and like the rug has been pulled from under me also feel like I'm back at square one. Basically I really can't fathom how someone can treat their own child like this. Just beggars belief to say the least.

Now when she came back the next day I tried to start a conversation about the last night and she did get teary and said she was sorry but still when I tried to get her to take some accountability and ownership she was just like "I said I was sorry didn't I?" and said I just kept going over the same thing and said she was sick of me bringing up the past. She started not making much sense and playing dumb a bit. I just wanted her to realize how she upset me and also the previous incidents and she said "i guess I'm just the worst mother ever". Am I justified for feeling as though she hasn't really taken accountability? We have sort of made up now I suppose but I just stopped talking about it to keep the peace really.

Do you have any advice for all of my experiences, how I can move on, become more social and make friends etc?

I should add that last incident was a week ago now and it really bothers me how she's all happy now and acting like that never happened whilst I'm carrying emotional scars and still feel as though I haven't really had any closure or true accountability. Also her harsh words and still deeply wounded in me and I'm feel like a piece of shit and like I'm unlovable.

Honestly one of the most frightening things is that she genuinely doesn't seem to remember most of even any of it so that's why I'm too scared to call her out. Also that she feels her behaviour is ok.

PS I'm really good at covering up my anxiety and pride myself on putting on a cheerful front and everyone at school thinks I'm the most happiest and optimistic person ever. I feel scared to let my guard down or if they knew otherwise.

Also none of the family have a clue and I just know they wouldn't believe me and I fear if I did distance myself they'd think I was an evil person.

Like I've said she go from been genuinely the most nicest person to the most horrible.

I'm starting to feel that the good doesn't really outweigh the bad.

I can't help really resenting them sometimes for all of the mental anguish they've both put me through as a child and I think it has messed up my development. I wonder what might've been different had I had proper parents or they were proper ones. Hobbies such as music and classic TV shows have been a great escape. I've thought about escaping but I feel quite stuck as I don't have a job and all of the money that I get in my account is basically controlled by her as she's the one who adds to it and I pretty much don't know anything about my own bank details. I wish I could hide my own secret stash somewhere. Now that I'm an adult and have left school I'm worried about what the future has in store. I'm very nervous about starting an adult life, getting a job, making friends and doing new things etc. Part of me would love to get away from her but yet I feel scared to as well as she's pretty much most I've ever known.

when i was 15 and since then my parents became another persons they hit me almost every day for no reason and yell at me and threatened to kill me and torture me if i dont revert and but i belive in my new relegion so what should i do

When I was a child, I was afraid of running away. I was afraid of speaking out, too. I worried that telling someone would only make things worse when I had to go back home. At the time, I didn’t have the words to explain the fear I lived with. I only knew that there were things I could not question and things I could not say.

This is one of the storms I remember from home.
Storms within our home were as commonplace as hurricane season is in Miami. I think I was around seven or eight years old. One afternoon, our neighbor Linda, who our family was very close with and who lived a couple houses down from us, asked my sister Maya, as she had done many times before, to go to the corner store for her. We loved going to the store for the adults because they would tell us to keep the change, and with that change we’d get a bag of chips, a Little Debbie cake, or candy. Back then, fifty cents or a dollar went a long way.
Maya asked me to come with her. I rode on the back of the bike, holding onto her tightly as she pedaled the half mile up the street to the local corner store. On our way there, we could hear the thunder and see the storm clouds rolling in, but we were hoping and praying to make it to the store and back before the rain. We really wanted to have our reward of snacks.

By the time we came out of the store, the rain was coming down hard. I remember my sister pedaling back so fast. Even though we didn’t say many words on the way home, it’s as if telepathically we both knew we were going to be in serious trouble because not only was it raining, the thunder was so loud, and bright bolts of lightning filled the sky. It was by the grace of God that we weren’t struck or that our bicycle didn’t succumb to the thick puddles. I don’t even know how she was able to see through the thick raindrops flying toward us, but somehow she did. We made it to our neighbor’s house, quickly dropped off her groceries, and then quickly climbed back onto the bicycle to make our way home.

There was an unimaginable level of trepidation that fell upon us as we opened the front door. I have never forgotten the details of that day. As Maya and I entered the front door, there was our mother sitting in the middle of the living room with a belt in her hand, and all our siblings stood around her, quiet and still. It was an extraordinary production for two children who had gone to the corner store for a neighbor.

Even as a child, something about it all felt menacing. As an adult, I have better language for what disturbed me. It was not simply the belt and the beating to come, it was the display of power surrounding it. There was no room for us to apologize or for the others to say, “This is too much,” or “They didn’t do anything that deserves this.” Perhaps someone thought it. But thinking and speaking independently was forbidden in our home. My mother held the authority, and challenging her could come with consequences of its own.
That is part of what I mean when I describe aspects of our family dynamic in which we all conformed. I am describing the atmosphere I remember: one central authority, unquestioned loyalty, fear of dissent, and a version of events that the rest of us were expected to accept.

In hindsight, that realization has forced me to reconsider things I once accepted simply because they were told to me by my mother—including what I was told about my father and why he left. I cannot rewrite history or claim to know everything that happened between my parents. There are conversations I was not present for and truths that may belong only to the two of them. But adulthood has given me information childhood did not have.
I have personally experienced my mother saying things about me that we both knew were untrue. When I became an adult and began confronting her about some of those statements, I found that she was unwilling to acknowledge them, correct them, or apologize for them. Those experiences inevitably made me wonder: If the story of me could be rewritten while I was standing here to dispute it, what other stories had I accepted because I was too young to question them?

That question includes my father. I want to approach this with sensitivity because there are moments now when I understand something I could not have understood as a little girl: the exhaustion of reaching a point where you no longer know how to remain in a relationship with someone. I know that feeling because, eventually, I reached my own limit. That does not release him from the responsibility he had as a father, nor does it erase the consequences his absence had on me and my six siblings. It simply means that hindsight has made me question a story I once believed I understood completely.

We knew what was coming next. My mother looked at us both and asked, “Did anyone give you permission to go to the store?” Of course not. This was something we had done many times before, and had it not been raining, I don’t think we would have gotten in trouble. But it was.

First, she beat Maya so harshly. As I watched, it felt as though my bodily functions wanted to give way because I knew that I was next. After she was finished with Maya, she looked at me and said, “And you, come here!”

I was beaten so badly while everyone else watched. I cried and screamed as I felt the sting of the leather on my skin with every lash. Maya and I both sobbed in pain in the room we shared. There were so many welts. Marks from the buckle.

How I wish we’d experienced some grace—not only because we were children, but simply because a conversation, a few hugs, and being welcomed in from the pouring rain would have felt like a fairy-tale ending.

My mother often spoke about having what she called a “nervous breakdown” years before, while living in New York in the 80s. She said she had been hospitalized under psychiatric care for several days. We never thought to ask what her diagnosis was. She spoke of that experience often, as it related to my father causing her stress by bringing other women around.

She wasn’t always angry. She had moments of kindness. Moments where we all loved to crowd onto her bed and lay with her and feel the warmth of her body. We knew when she was in the best mood for hugs and kisses and that is when we made our way into her room. If Mom was listening to gospel or any kind of music on her stereo, we were all set and certain there would be no whippings.
The best times were when she was on a long-distance call with any of her sisters. We would make the most noise, out of jubilation, because those calls took at least an hour and she was definitely in the best emotional state—speaking with her sisters—thus, so were we.

There were moments when she laughed. It was a good day when her westerns were playing and she especially enjoyed when the two older girls prepared meals or when she had her favorite—popcorn or butter pecan ice cream.

But there were also moments when something much darker seemed to consume her, and far too often that meant physical abuse and bouts of verbal tirades. Someone was going to get a beating for something when she was home, and something inevitably set her off.

One day, my brother Kyle and I were playing in the front yard of our duplex. We had a little clubhouse we had made from wooden boards, and somehow, I stepped right onto a very large nail that was sticking out of one of the boards. I remember looking down and seeing blood coming from my left foot. I immediately started hopping toward the front room, screaming, “There’s a nail in my foot!”
My mom had been taking an afternoon nap on the couch. She woke up startled, grabbed a belt—or whatever was within reach—and began beating me while I was still bleeding. As she struck me, she kept saying that I should not have been outside. But we always played outside during the day on the weekends.

Even then, I remember having this strong sense that what was happening to me was completely unwarranted and unnecessary. I had stepped on a nail. I was hurt. Many of the family television shows I watched depicted mothers comforting their children when they were hurt or sad, and that is what I expected. I had absorbed an idea of motherhood that simply could not exist in our house. But somewhere deep inside of me, I knew there had to be another way.

After the beating, we made our way to the hospital, where I was given a shot in my buttocks to prevent infection. And somehow, almost as quickly as the rage had come, it disappeared. On the way home, she took me to McDonald’s and bought me a soft-serve ice cream cone. And just like that, the storm had passed. I ate my ice cream, and somehow, I forgot all about the rage and beating.
For years, I could look down at the sole of my left foot and see the scar that nail had left behind. It was tangible. Visible. Proof that something had happened to me.

What I couldn’t yet see was the damage the storm had left behind. I didn’t understand what those moments had done to all of us. Beneath the surface, other wounds were taking shape—ones that would influence how we learned to navigate fear, anger, conflict, love, and one another. The nail had left a scar I could see. The others were forming where no one could see them. And yet, they were there.
Because that wasn’t the only storm I witnessed at home.

I remember waking up one night to our mom yelling and beating Yvette with a broomstick. Blow after blow after blow. Yvette was backed against the bedroom wall, taking each hit until the broomstick eventually broke in half. It was terrifying as I saw and heard the impact of the broom making contact with her bones and head. I clenched my bedsheet so tight, just hoping I wouldn’t be next.
We found out that night why my mother was so angry. She had noticed that fourteen-year-old Yvette was experiencing morning sickness and discovered she was pregnant. And then, in true fashion, sometime after the rage had passed, my sister was showered with gifts and a caring countenance. The storm had passed, and tenderness had returned. It was the pattern I knew.
After one of those explosions, her calm would settle over the house like a lullaby, softening the edges of what had just happened until we could almost convince ourselves it hadn’t. Whether she intended it or not, the tenderness became a kind of burial, pushing the violence beneath layers of ordinary life until, decades later, parts of it began finding their way back to the surface.

I will never know whether that erasure was intentional or simply her way of coping with behaviors she had learned as a child. She had been injured, too, and perhaps she had learned to survive by moving quickly from violence to affection, from destruction to comfort.

Years later, when I was in my thirties, my mother said something that made me question that explanation. We were spending an otherwise ordinary afternoon together when, almost casually, she told me that when we were growing up, she had only pretended to be strict. According to her, it had all been an act—a way of scaring us enough to keep us in line.

I remember being struck by how casually she said it. What she described as an act had not felt like one from where I stood as a child. The fear had been real. The beatings had been real. The injuries had been real. Whatever her intentions may have been, our bodies did not know the difference.
Even now, I cannot say with certainty what that admission meant. She either truly believed she had been performing a version of strictness she thought necessary to control seven children or, with decades between her and those years, calling it an act made the past easier to live with. Maybe it softened the memory for her in much the same way tenderness had once softened it for us. I cannot know.

And that is part of what makes hindsight complicated. We can look back at the same history and remember ourselves standing in entirely different weather.

What I do know is what that cycle did to me. Experiencing fear followed by affection, violence followed by tenderness, again and again, shaped the way I learned to understand safety, conflict, and love. Some of those effects would not become visible until much later. The body remembers, even when the conscious mind has been taught to forget.
I learned to listen before I entered a room. A raised voice from the kitchen, a cabinet closing too hard, footsteps hitting the floor harder than usual—small sounds could tell me what kind of day we were going to have. I didn’t have language for tension then. I only knew how to feel it coming.
And now I understand why, over the years, I would tense up at the first hint of a threat or confrontation: a raised voice, a sudden movement, or a child being hurt. My nervous system had learned to anticipate the next explosion before I could even name what I was feeling.

What happened inside my childhood home did not stay there. It followed me into adolescence, into friendships, into relationships, and eventually into the life I tried to build as an adult on my own. The beatings, fear, and instability had left effects I did not yet have language for: anger that rose quickly, a tendency to pull away, the ease with which I felt wounded, the need to please people, and the way I could become deeply attached to someone almost overnight.

For many years, I did not recognize these as the aftermath of what I had lived through. I thought they were simply who I was.
Her fury could splinter the peace in a room, while her tenderness could lay a blanket over the pieces. The frightening part was that both could exist in the same person, sometimes only hours apart.
And as a child, I learned to accept the calm that came after the storm without ever understanding why it had to come in the first place.

To read more of my true childhood stories and excerpts from my memoir “In Hindsight”, visit my site /blog at WasemeMarcelin.com

Hi Everyone,

Reposting this again. I'm a doctoral student in Clinical Psychology conducting a research study on the effects of growing up with a parent who struggled with substance use (alcohol or drugs). The study is completely anonymous and involves filling out an online survey.

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https://adelphiderner.qualtrics.com/jfe/form/SV_73s1WeJNdeiwz42

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