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I have to face it. My childhood trauma (?)

Discussion in 'Self Improvement' started by Deleted Account, Dec 25, 2020.

  1. To be honest, I don't really know... Do I have one?
    But there is something within me that just yells that something was wrong. I just want to share this with you guys. I really want to, cause I want to change so bad... I just can't sit still no more!

    It started in my family, I think.
    My mother: Has always been very sensitive, loving and just wholesome human being. She never could say no, to this day she is the nicest human being I know. She is a real mother. The best mother.
    My father: ...I don't even know. I guess I will start with positive side, cause there's not much to say.
    When he is drunk, he is nice. He can be really kind-hearted, give me or mother some money to spend. He's not an evil human being, he is not bad in general... It's just that... I don't think he ever has loved me.
    Or he might as well not have the best way of showing it.
    When I was just born - he loved me a lot, my mom says. He would always be happy when I was around, he would always give me time and attention. Then I turned 5 and... It started changing. Why? I have no idea. Even mom doesn't know.
    He would just constantly yell at me for small shit. If butter would fall from knife while I'm making an sandwich or something - he would turn red and start calling me lame, how I'm just an failure, how I should run to mom and tell it to her and cry about it. Cause you know, that's what I did. I've always been actually sensitive, it's just that time has killed my sensitivity. I can laugh around people, but it feels so hard for me to showcase any emotions. I can't even tell my mother I love her. I really love her, it's just that... I don't know how. I don't feel like there is any love within me.
    Father never did beat me. Maybe 1 or 2 times. Probably deserved it, but what scared the living shit out of me was him yelling. I think I've even pissed myself because I knew he is going to run in and just yell at me, tell me some nasty crap and just leave me there helpless.
    Problems amplified when they started drinking. He's been drinking for years, while mother... She used to have a glass of wine maybe once in a little while. But then she started drinking, and 8 year old me had lost his only someone. She was still there, but it was different. I hated it. I hate alcohol even now because of it. I drink, yes... And that scares me the most. I don't want to even think about drinking once more.

    Their drinking was pathetic. Father could kind of keep himself together, but rarely, while mother just went off. She never liked the taste, she just drank to be drunk. She would throw up, start yelling at us both, throwing stuff and just laying in bed and release her anger towards the world.
    She was mad, mad as hell. She said things I don't want to quote here. Yet I knew - she still loved me... But that sober mother was lost somewhere in the past.
    I could see myself waving goodbye to that smiling face, that unscarred pure creature. Now there was just heavy drinking mother, who hated her husband who was an absolute piece of shit sometimes.
    He even wanted her to go to the jail because of shit he did. He did not want to go to jail, so he pointed finger at my mother. She was a part of it, because she really wanted some money so she could get things for me as I was... Unborn yet. I was in her still.
    He wanted mother with a kid sit behind the bars.
    Sometimes I'm looking at that guy and I just think - how is he okay with being himself? How the fuck is that asshole okay with that? I just can't, man...

    I know the way this goes is really chaotic. I'm sorry. I've never been a person that is capable of putting everything perfectly in shelfs. But fuck it.

    School.
    I was never a alpha kid. I was not from a rich family as you could guess. I changed like 5 schools, maybe even six, don't remember.
    In school there was this thing called peer pressure. Someone's parents were rich - so he got all the attention and love. So I wanted the same shit. I wanted to be loved.

    At home I didn't get too much love. I knew my mother loves me, but she was just drunk or I was just too bitter already to talk with her about it. I felt left alone, really.
    So now you know - at home there is mother who is not stable. She might as well commit suicide and father... Who just does not give a fuck. I never gave any fucks if he was away. Fuck it, man. I was happy if he was not home for at least one night. I just never knew how to love such a guy.
    And school... They just love to laugh at you, because you're different. Your humor is different, your clothes ain't shit - you're just a poor kid, weak and alone. Easiest target.
    There's just too much to remember. Sure, bright moments also - not gonna ignore those - but all in all I felt like shit because of how my inner bitterness had affected me. I was lost. I had probably like 0 hobbies, interests or anything. All I did - I listened to music and thought how I will commit suicide at 27 just like Kurt Cobain cause "it seemed so cool"
    Idea of death attracted me, because there I wouldn't have to face all that shit. My mother laying with bleeding nose, my father claiming that he never had done shit to her and me... Just sitting. Just crying.
    They would yell at each other and all I could do is just run in my tiny room if I had one. But I wasn't secure there. I heard everything.
    Him yelling, her crying. Him yelling more, her crying. And me, being so connected to my mother - crying.
    I cried like a little bitch for hours. I hated everyone.
    I hated rich kids, I hated the ones that had better grades than me. I hated teachers that did not accept me. I hated everyone who didn't love me. I hated the world. I just loved music and being alone.

    We kept on changing places of living and... Here comes the probably worst part.
    My trauma was never healead.
    My mother stopped drinking, my father became little bit different. As he is getting older... He is just weirder with everyday. He drinks, yes, but... He is more peaceful when drunk. But depends on what he drinks. Sometimes he just grabs bottle of vodka, drinks 3 or 4 shots ... And then it starts again. Yells at my mother. He yells, she cries. I get mad, yell at him and sometimes spit out stuff that I maybe shouldn't... Like how I hate him and how I wish he never was my father.

    Some might say it's okay that is over.
    Well, you're looking at things very shallow my friend.

    That trauma is there. It was never talked about until maybe now. And I hate myself. I sometimes can just get so angry I want to cry. It just collects up in me and I just want to beat someone up, I want to beat myself up, I want to destroy things. I have no love. I just go red, start tearing up and I just want to rip everything apart.

    But I just want to love someone, really. I want to once again tell my mother how I love her. I want this girl to know that I actually like her. I don't care if she will reject me. I don't. I just care to share my feelings, but I cant. I don't know how. It's gone somewhere.... In the past.


    Please tell me - what should I do? I don't have any therapy available now around me, as far as I know. Is there any other way to get it out of myself?
    And please... Don't tell me to talk to my father about it. I just can't. As soon as I will start he will just not want to do it. He will turn away from it.
    I can forgive him from within. I really can! But I don't want to talk with him about it. It's way too painful.
    Please, help.
    Thanks for reading.
     
    Last edited by a moderator: Dec 25, 2020
    Grandsire Bhishma likes this.
  2. Hey,
    thank you so much for sharing your story. I relate to your feelings.

    Your descriptions are very familiar to me, I'm sorry that you have to go through this. If it's any help, I can say a few words about what is helping me facing these things...

    I want to preface this by saying that change comes slowly. When I feel the way you described, I desperately long for a way out, for something that will fix me and my life, because I feel like I can't stand another second of existence without cracking up and completely losing it. These feelings fade, as I guess you have also experienced. And that's a blessing. But the situation remains.

    Change comes slowly, but it comes. And you can help it. What is helping me?

    - Distance. I've been becoming a better person since the moment I moved out of my parents' place. It's painful progress and rarely feels the way I think progress should feel. But it's there, even if I can't feel it most of the time.

    - Other people. The people I've met since moving out have challenged me to question many beliefs I held about myself and anxietys that used to tell me what the world is like. Subconsciously, they've taught me a lot of things I wish my parents had given me more of.

    - Meditation. Meditation was one of the first things in my life that allowed me to truly feel myself and feel my purpose. Anxiety drives us away from things, but it doesn't drive us anywhere. In meditation, I could let go of that drive and witness myself as something stable, unshatterable. The feeling of calm that overcame me during meditation was undescribable. I still frequently cry of relief when I reach that state (although by now I've understood that it is not the ultimate goal of my meditations to feel like that). A meditative state also helps me with surfacing subconscious beliefs that I hold, and with extracting meaning from things I've experienced. It trains your consciousness like a muscle, allowing you some more control over your thoughts. It's an invaluable tool if regularly practiced (which I still need to get much more consistent at).

    - Therapy. This was the motivation I needed to make long-term changes in my thoughts and behaviour. The regularity of it and the communication with a professional helped me restructure my thoughts in a good way. I feel like I could have gotten more help from this if I had wanted, there's many options if you can afford it. I was lucky because my country's public health insurance covers basic behavioural therapy. Therapy has also helped me with being more honest about my past. I could allow myself to be angry at my parents for what they did, in a controlled environment, in a constructive way. Feeling that anger that I instinctively pushed away for such a long time was another relief that made me cry like a baby. If you have any means of doing this, be it online, in person, via a support group, or whatever, please jump at the opportunity. Communities like this one are a blessing, but professional therapy is a whole other level.


    Your story really touched me, because I strongly feel that no child should experience the things you had to experience. I appreciate your ability to forgive your parents for these things. It also seems that you have some understanding of the problems they themselves were dealing with and their motivations. That helps. This community can help you with identifying aspects of your current situation that you can change for the better. Many people have experienced their own kind of trauma and learned to overcome it. I'm glad you're here.
     
  3. Asgardian36

    Asgardian36 Fapstronaut

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    You are so right man, there's no saying how the seminal energy is going to affect us. Hence I would try to lay extra caution since I am on Day 45. PMO addict and a man acting out his purpose, both are powered by the same energy....good point!
     
    MeTP likes this.
  4. Man, thanks for a reply!
    I feel like posting this was enough, really. I felt so delighted and since I posted this my mind has kind of changed about a lots of things. I feel like this thing I faced as a kid isn't that bad at all and there are people that actually need way more help than me.
     
    MeTP likes this.
  5. PeterGrip

    PeterGrip Fapstronaut

    Thanks for posting @Learn to fly again

    You inspire me to share a bit myself.

    I was 26 years old the first time I told my mom that I love her. She had not told me she loved me herself since I was a child, must have been at least 16 years prior. I knew in my heart that I wanted to tell her. I had known for years before I built up the courage. Was about 100 days into a hard mode nofap streak when I did, too. One year later, I still remember the day fondly. I'm so incredibly happy I got it out of my system.

    My dad used to yell at everyone in the family when we were kids. One evening when I was like 6 years old, I was in the kitchen, minding my own business, eating a banana. I heard my parents arguing and walking towards the kitchen, so I hid behind a couch... I dunno why really, guess I was scared. Anyway I left the remainder of the banana on the kitchen counter before hiding. When my parents got into the kitchen, my father was yelling about how messy the house was. He noticed the banana and used it as an example of the state of the house. It hurt me so much. I felt responsible, and that I wasn't good enough. I felt insecure around him all of my childhood, and well into my 20s. That was one of many nights of him shouting and being dramatic. My parents got divorced when I was 12. The same story happened with his second wife, whom he also divorced after some painful years.

    As an adult, I've come to realize that all of this was because of stress from his work. He could not handle the pressure, felt victimized, and projected it all unto his family. He never learned to understand his emotions or communicate well. I don't know much about his childhood, but my mom told me some stories that makes me think he must have developed trust issues as a small child.

    I can speak normally (mostly) with my father now, but only after spending YEARS far away from him, developing my own character and values in peace, when he wasn't there to force his own will upon me and force my own into the ground.
     
  6. That banana story reminds me a lot of my childhood years and having experienced similar stuff. Like, yeah.. If there was a little bit of mess in my room I would get constantly yelled at. Right now he's way messier than I ever was. I don't mean to judge him - he can live peacefuly - I don't care about him being a dickhead anymore. But yeah, I believe my father developed that crap when he was a kid cause he got constantly yelled at by his father for shit that his sister did. Sucks, man.
     
    Asgardian36 and PeterGrip like this.
  7. Da Werd

    Da Werd Fapstronaut

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    @Learn to fly again, thanks for sharing.
    I think talking about it is great. It's going to help a lot. It's great for working through the hard emotions, letting them pass. I bottled things up for so long, it really started poisoning every part of my life. Now I talk a lot to my family, some good friends, or even to myself, and it really helps me heal.

    Feel free to talk to us all you want.

    Something that helps me with my traumas is prayer. It doesn't have to be to a sort of God if that's not your thing, although it's great for some (especially a Mother-Goddess kind of figure can be really easy to relate to). It can even be a prayer to our own self. Or "Affirmations". Prayers will give your mind and your life a focus to get out of this. It's really positive and powerful stuff.
     
  8. Asgardian36

    Asgardian36 Fapstronaut

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    gotcha, man! Will try to remember that in the moment of crisis next time.
     

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