Is it a trauma or not? To me, it kinda feels

I always find interesting information about child development. And found a video on how violence and trauma affects a child's brain. Wow. It reminded me of how my neighbor, when we were 13 her baby sister was born (she already had siblings and her parents were toxic) and I would help her clean the house. She started yelling to her siblings and the baby cried, I went over and helped calm her down - my friend asked me "why is she crying, is she hungry" and I said "children can sense things, they can sense hurt and anger, so she must feel scared of seeing everyone argue". My friend starred at me and said "makes so much sense..". I had watched a few documentaries on the brain, at that time. Especially child development.

My dad tells me stories about how my grandfathers acted towards him (my mother's parents). How they yelled at him and pulled me out of his arms against him, forced me not to see him.. as early as 6 months old. How when he was leaving, they'd force me to stay in room while I heard him leave while excusing it as "seeing the parents leave is traumatic" - but hearing him leave made me cry. And made him angry, and made him yell back because "why are you hiding my daughter from me? she has to understand I will come back, not the other way around". Looking back, he is right - they were trying to train me for when my parents divorced, it's what they wanted not my parents. I wondered, if that affected my mind. I wonder if that also contributed to my fear of people abandoning me? I also feel "everyone leaves". And many times when I was 1-2 years old, when my dad would work for days or weeks out of home and only come back on weekends if ever, from what I was told, when I finally was allowed out of the room and didn't see my dad around, I would cry pretty loudly. I always had a strong cry, as a baby.

When I was 4/5 I have this memory of running out the door because I believed my parents had left the house without me. I went as far as I could, until I gave up and sat in middle of the road and cried - which is where my grandma found me, when in fact my parents were inside. I just remembering thinking "they left me behind, they're not coming back, they're not coming back". Which always confused me. Why would I feel that way at 4 years old, if I was never made to feel that way?

I had a cousin who when was that age was highly dependent on her mother, even having to sit 2 minutes without her made her break down in tears and panic - she felt her mother abandoned her. And I never saw a child that didn't have that dependent vibe from parents, that at 4 or 5 years old, did that. Well.. I was never dependent on my parents emotionally, on the contrary I did stuff on my own. From time to time, I'd want to be around them, but since I'm 6 I spend days on my own. If I didn't eat lunch because I was stubborn or picky, I would be told I need to wait for next meal or handle it on my own - and you're sure I'd find a way without asking anyone, I'd either make a sandwhich or eat some fruit. I did ask my dad to cut me up the fruit if I needed, so sometimes I'd just go towards something I could prepare without a knife.. or attempt to use the knifte on my own and then use a band-aid if something went wrong.

So I was not technically dependent on them, I would do fine if they weren't around. But if I found myself alone in like a supermarket or mall, even though I know I can find them, I would panic and hold back my tears while thinking "they abandoned me, they left me behind, they're not coming back, that's it, I'm alone I'm alone" which is something people make as jokes - I saw people making jokes of these on tumblr years ago, but I seriously felt this. I would panic, but hide it. And when found them, not let it show

Ridiculous, right?

*oops long rant ahead* Something that sometimes comes into conversation in my tutoring classes is why I have never pursue arts in studies/career considering I had every sign of someone who loved arts more than anything. As a child, making watercolor illustrations was my favorite thing, I'd grab my supplies and printer paper (only paper I had) and paint for hours, putting them all to dry on the balcony. I'd make my own barbie houses and was lucky that my dad had a monthly subscription to a computer magazine - so sometimes he'd get a demo for an interior design or photo manipulation software, and you bet I'd spend hours playing with it. Then show my work. And so on and on. When I mention this in tutoring while laughing, she sometimes looks at me in honesty and asks "and yet only now you realized you loved arts? No one ever encouraged you?"

Sad answer? No. During all that, my dad would care yes. But he doesn't show emotion and I have trouble understanding cues that aren't direct. No one else would care. I got told from a young age how only thing I was worth for - was to become a famous rich doctor, and that was it. All toys I got (ignoring the collection dolls I never was able to touch or get off packaging) were calculators, math books and medicine related toys. Don't get me wrong, as a child, I loved carrying that plastic doctor box with me.. but not as much as getting new coloring pencils or my keyboard.

I got ignored by family, if I showed interested in something other than medicine, got yelled at my face how I sucked at anything else. At school, visual arts was my favorite class but even my teachers showed disgust. I won an art competition as a kid, I was minding my own bussiness when they were annoucing a winner in my class, knowing there was no chance I would get it - when they announced I won first place, I just got hate looks from my classmates and teacher. That teacher criticized every work I did after that.

Let me tell you.. a child may love a certain area and/or career. You can probably tell them once or twice they suck at it, it won't hurt as much and they'll keep going. But when 95% of adults tell that child they are the worst and need to be perfect doctor one day.. it's impossible for you to ever believe you can do it. I mean, I look back now.. and think to myself how stupid I was.

But I still can't tell someone when they ask me "why only now? you have lost years, why didn't you pursue it before?" .. I can't say the actual truth. I say some truths. That got told science gives more job opportunities, that I come from a family with lower education parents who earn little so I didn't want to struggle financially or in job market, that my family encouraged me towards it. But sometimes they give me that look. The look that it all doesn't make sense.

I can't say the actual truth. That I was scared I would be kicked out or hated for life if I did, that I was actually a failure. I was so scared of my dad believing like my family that I was terrible, that I didn't even consider it an option. I didn't. Ever. I used all excuses on book to convince myself. Because my worst fear was my parents would hit me or kick me out, and I'd become homeless and friendless and without anyone. I wanted to be perfect, and if unhappy reached that goal.. who cared, you know?

And I did all that. And I lost years and my mind. And attempted suicide over it. Self-harmed over it. All that. Still when people asked me "why now" I can't say the truth:

Because I had enough. Came to a time I knew I was heading down a dark spot again. I knew if I didn't stop it, I would end up dead in a matter of months. So that day, I'll never forget it, I was helping my dad clean the house on a saturday, and I just went up to him, still holding the window cleaner product, crying so hard I couldn't breathe and saying "I can't do this, if I don't quit I will die, I can't I can't". To then having my own aunt tell me:

"You should've remained in college, even if you killed yourself was better than you dropping out".

That is the best example of how my family is. The possibility of them being famous about me being a 'doctor' is okay even if means me dying in the process.

So I can't say that. I can't tell anyone that. I don't want the pity, I don't want the "oh but you should've" NO I couldn't have. The thing is, before someone say "well but this or that" they need to put themselves on my place. I didn't receive a "yes, go follow that you do love" until I was way into my teens, and by then that one sentence seemed so vague and fake, I ignored it. Plus I don't wear this as a badge of honor, I don't think I ever will. I don't ever want to be that person that was once in a psych hospital over her mental health, even though I still get scared people will see me that way. I want to be the person that those close to me know that dark little secret, but don't list it on my personality description. Though sometimes I wish wasn't the full opposite, not being allowed to talk about it. But that's a different story

Just hurts. A lot. How I know no one will ever fully understand why. Because it's not a 2 minute explanation, it's more of a 12 hour lecture on all reasons behind it, with a guide book. Even when I first saw my current therapist, I came to her when I was planning on dropping out college, after the saturday-cleaning-breakdown day. She didn't understand it, she even asked me to reconsider it on our first appointment, and second appointment. By then I was about to quit seeing her as well, until she finally understood why. And even then she kept looking shocked when I said I didn't have a plan. I wanted to start over even if technically, I can't. I wanted to start high school over, make new decisions, join art clubs, participate in competitions my dad would show my flyers for, only for me to not even consider. Say yes instead of no. Say no instead of yes. But no. Can't. Because that's socially not allowed.

The thing is I AM starting over, and my family still gives me those looks. The pity look, the "you have ruined your life" and "you have no hope" look. I am no longer called smart or told I have a future. I am no longer pointed as the example to follow, I am.. "there". They see me as another one who failed at school and life, because of a family curse. Even though I am going into college hopefully, even though I want to pursue higher education, even though I am going against all odds per se, they see me as a failure.

And I came to a point where yeah, I am ashamed. I am ashamed of only finding out what I really wanted in my 20's, I'm ashamed of being late and lost some years. But I also had enough that next person to tell me "no, you can't" is getting a slap on the face. And I just wish I had this attitude before. Because, truth is, I still fear it won't work, I still fear I may be making a mistake here or there, my mental health isn't 100% better but it made certain things easier.

I just wish I had done this earlier. If anyone reading this is thinking if they should listen to them, or what people say around you: are they making what you want a priority as well? No? Then throw it in trash. For anyone to make a well formulated opinion, they need to hear all sides and know all perspectives, if they focus on theirs but not yours, then they have stupid opinions. Those opinions are trash. Listen to what you want, focus on it. Find people who help you listen to it, and not put words in your mouth. Do you. Do your thing. Don't regret. If I could go back to my 15 year old self and shake her while saying "NOOOOOO" I would. Or maybe even earlier than that.

Well this was a rant. HA! *rant over*

Kids aren't supposed to hate hugs or avoid kisses from family. As a kid, I hated when my mother kissed my cheek but only said it out loud when was around 10. She used to kiss my cheek at breakfast when we did have breakfast together which is about between 1 to 10 times a year average. And force me to greet my family with a kiss as well, lucky me my dad didn't agree with forcing a child to greet people they are not close to. So many times there were arguments. First time I said "no" I was probably around 10 or 11. My mother wanted me to kiss my grandfather goodbye and I got upset, tired of the going into his room in the dark just to kiss his forehead while he's asleep. I stood my foot down and said "no", my dad said "don't force her", she yelled. Grabbed my arm. But I said no. And after that once in a while I said no, even if she kept yelling how ungrateful I was.

When I was 14 or 15 I started to get angry when my mother kissed my cheek. She would force me to not avoid it, I would ask her not to.. she'd grab me mid the hallway, hold my arms strongly and kiss my forehead. Until I suddenly started pushing a way and yelling "STOP". My dad would tell her it's okay that I don't like kissing, she didn't like it. Gave me those mean looks when I pulled away.

Kids aren't supposed to feel disgust by being touched by their mother. Not disgust exactly but.. Imagine a stranger lives in your home, everyone knows them and is close to them, but you don't. And you're told you have to be hugged, kissed, and sit on that stranger's lap. You're told is your "mother" but still feels like a stranger.

I used to hide behind the courtains to pretend I was invisible. I'd do that for fun, I'd do that when my dad was angry. And for some days when I was 12 or so, I would use the space under dining table for my own hide out. Bring a blanket, put some pillows to block it. My dad helped me set up the pillows and open the dining table so I had more space. My mother found it stupid, of course. Many afternoons I spent like that, when was home alone or weekends.

I tried to understand why I felt disgust when she touched me. I couldn't. She wasn't the typical abusive mother, nor the typical loving mother. To my view, I was the bad one. So I forced myself to feel well with it, to appreciate her affection. And it only made it worse, it only caused panic and anger. Many times when she did touch me, even by accident I felt like fire was burning my skin and would react in anger. To avoid any bad reactions, I'd go into my room and hold my breath until got there. And take anger out on me. Slap myself, on face and legs, pinch my skin on arms or hands, bite my fingers until they got red and slightly bruised.

I found my journals from the psychiatric hospital days ago. I said there how I prayed for my mother and made a bracelet for her. I forced myself to believe in God and pray to please my mother, I forced myself to believe the ideas of the nuns said "if you pray, your depression will be cured, if you pray, your health will be healed". I was in such a shock when I got there that I faked this happy cheery family loving persona, without even realizing. As soon as I got home for a weekend, I broke. Went from having to pretend for 2-3 hours when they visited for 24 hours. When went back, I wear hoodies and kept the hood on top of my head all day. I faked. I'm good at pretending. I'm good at pretending because I lie to myself until pretending becomes reality. Finding reality is more difficult than pretending, for me.

Found an image while searching for inspirational pictures online that said "being abused made me such a 'good kid'" and "what makes us good children makes us bad adults" So true. I mean, not in the literal sense but in the sense that all results of what happened to me as a kid (even though I feel word abuse is way too strong to classify what I went through.. sometimes..) made me the perfect child and student, everyone bragged about it. Because:

- I was always polite, never spoke out out of turn, said "please" and "thank you"

- Did as I was told, if I got told to sit in a certain place I would not move.. literally.. until I got told I could move

- Always asked for permission, never said anything negative, did all my homework and more, helped cleaning the house

But after a while, those things started being used against me. And now it's difficult to adapt. It's hard to make friends when I can't trust anyone and even if I do trust, my 'extreme politeness' and need for approval makes them get tired of me way too quickly. It's hard to adapt in school and it's a reason why I can't get a job - if I am not literally told what I have to do, I panic. It's not a joke. It triggers my social anxiety as well, which is another problem.

I have trouble talking with people, not sure what's acceptable and what isn't, so create my own rules. These are all things that make a 'bad adult', though I wouldn't use that expression. I'd call it "the joke among other adults" "the person who is assumed to know how to function when was never explained how to" "the one who no one cares to help but always wants to criticized". Also: you can't expect a 9 year old to know trignometry problems at high school senior level without you teaching them. Okay? Okay

It's stupid to see myself in these posts. But I do. I was always the so-called "teacher's pet" even if most teachers never acknowledged me. Some family members used to tell my parents I was "so polite" "so perfect".. And I know may seem like "oh so not all your family hated you, what a liar".. but I have a big family, it's part of my culture. This is not a culture where family means "parents and siblings, and grandparents/uncles/cousins on big celebrations". It's more of a:

Parents, siblings, uncles, cousins, grandparents, siblings of grandparents, distant uncles and cousins, more distant uncles and cousins, neighbors of everyone who apparently knows someone who is a nephew to a distant uncle/cousin.. do you get my point? It's a problem on weddings or big parties, it's why I hate them.

I may have exaggerated a bit on the example above, but just a bit. But before someone thinks I am lying, the family members who are 'nice' to me are from my dad's side of the family - though they are big friends with the ones on my mother's side, which means.. they are kind, but they also take the side of the others in saying "oh it's just a joke, right?".

I don't know, felt had to defend myself.

Also this is going all over the place. I did buy culinary chocolate so I can make chocolate chip cookies this week, if I have time. Right now I'm a bit busy with preparation for college application exams, but I like baking and bought a cupcake recipe book days ago. All I need now is the cupcake/muffin trays, some extra accesories or special ingredients and can start. I always loved making desserts. When we had to throw a party, I would take over the dessert portion and lock myself in the kitchen to finish them up, so I would do them myself. My mother hates cooking, it was always torture when she would since she'd give up mid way and I'd take over. So after I turned 12 I started making them on my own to save up the mess - always boxed desserts, but I'd spend all my time creating the decorations.

Making the mousse have a pattern on top with swirls and sprinkles on the right spot. Or make the layers of the mousse/pudding have a special pattern, use different plates, try new decoration methods with different sprinkles or trying to write things out. That was my time. I had to deal with family, but at least the night before I'd have MY time. And then on the preparation for the parties, I'd decorate the place. I knew no one cared, but at least I did something I loved.

Angry rant

I am tired, exhausted, frustrated at how people throw the "bullies bully because they're hurt themselves" card. Using excuses as abuse, domestic violence, bullying as the only reason kids bully others. NO. Yes, I agree some hurt people hurt others as a way to cope, yes I agree some kids that go through abuse may bully others because it's all they know and then they may feel sorry, I totally get it, those kids deserve some sympathy when they do realize their actions and change HOWEVER

When a kid bullies others and solely for the reason because they found it funny to see someone cry, because 1) their parents never set up rules and clapped when they punched their brothers or 2) they're just sick in the head, period. ITS NOT OKAY. Why do people throw around the "let's show love to bullies" and disregard how some are just rude people from the inside out and don't deserve ANY sympathy, ANY.

Why is it that when I tell someone I was bullied, I am told "well they probably bullied you because they're hurt". I am sorry? Excuse me?! What?!!!! WHAT. Now I have to feel sorry for someone who made me want to die at 13 years old? Do you have a heart? It's not that my bullies were kids who got abused at home, no. They were spoiled brats. Spoiled to the bone. Why do I say this? Rich kid that gets everything he wants in life, laugh at everyone, doesn't give two cents, never had rules in life.. does not deserve sympathy. I am sorry I don't - I will never believe - he was abused. Or that if he was, it's the reason he bullied me or any of the other girls I was told they all bullied prior to me. It was a game to them. Punch and slap that girl until she quits school or dies. One of his friends came to me laughing when I asked why and said:

"You were who we chose this year. And you're having way worse than all the others, the last one just went missing from school. Was a weak. And we're only getting started"

They SAW IT AS A GAME. Me being bullied WAS A GAME. And I am being told by my therapist to see it as

"oh poor thing, was abused, was hurt, was traumatized, poor thing let's all hug all the bullies in the world and not do a thing to prevent bullying because bullies deserve love omg" NOOOOOOO

If you're giving love to bullies who don't deserve it but ignoring the victims, you are worse than a bystander in my views. Worse. Worse. If a bully is apologetic and explains why, and changes their ways, yes I am more than glad to clap to them and thank them, because they are great people HOWEVER. If they see it as a game, don't care about it, do it just for fun and because apparently setting rules and boundaries as a parent is no longer "a thing". NO you don't. You don't deserve sympathy or even pity. No. None. Zero.

I am tired of seeing kids being rude to their teachers, elders, etc and parents just saying "I can't control them". Yes, I've seen it. I've seen parents clap when their kid punches their siblings - I've seen my family do it. I've seen people say you shouldn't put rules in kids or teacher them proper behavior because that's what schools for. What does that lead to? Bullying. Because they push the limits until they are stopped and if they are only stopped when a kid gets sent to hospital, then they'll push limits more.

I am tired, tired, of people treating teasing as normal. Of accepting a student telling a teacher to go *curseword that has sexual intents*, is the right way to go. I was the type of girl that in high school when some boys were making fun of calling names to their grandmother, I stood up and called them out on it, saying how they are horrible people and don't deserve anything positive from their grandparents until they learned. Their response "what? it's funny to make fun of them, she's my slave". I lost all little respect I had for them.

And the fact I live in a place where people go after cats with angry dogs just for fun, sometimes killing them and leaving their body on street while laughing.. which only goes to show how much lack of empathy there is.. in a place where disrespectful children are sometimes seen as "great independent kids".. I am sorry, I can't accept all bullies deserve sympthy. some? Yeah. All. Heck to the no

Just got a bit angry. My therapist on last appointment told me the line of "your bullies were probably hurt themselves" and it upset me a whole lot. I don't see the point on labelling abusers in such a positive light. I mean, no one says same about people who rape or domestic violence abusers.. so why say it about bullying?

Also: in this I'm not referring bullying as in "ocasional teasing". That's another thing. To me, to be bullying needs to be frequent/long-term (I'm not going to classify what frequent or long-term is), single targeted, and done with intent to harm that person physical, emotionally, socially. I don't know, seems like some people don't even know the definition or maybe use it as a joke. That's something I see a lot happening here as well

This is not something I like to discussion, and I don't think I have - but it's an important bit. I will discuss religion, from a negative point of view - so if you don't want to read, don't. I'd rather not have anyone feel uncomfortable or disrespected, it's not what I mean by this post. This isn't by any means a a generalization, just a point on how it can affect someone. It's a vent. And a long one, sorry

I grew up in a religious family, a deeply catholic I guess you could say - all but my dad. The type to go every sunday morning to church and also some days during the week, to have crosses and pictures of Jesus on every corner of the house. But as a kid, I never believe it, my dad was of the belief that I had the right to say if I believed or not, instead of forcing me. My family was opposite. They'll call him the devil, satan in person if you may. And when they noticed I didn't believe what they told me, things got worse. I would get yelled at my face how my dad was a demon and I was "satan's daughter". Many times I got forced to pray or hold a bible, or get holy water thrown into me or crosses put in front of me. Which caused arguments, especially when my family would try to hold exorcisms on me as a baby or do crazy prayers, and my dad would walk in - he'd get upset, start yelling to my mother that he doesn't want it, that he doesn't want chantings or weird remedies on me. This never upset me, the whole "hold the bible and read salms", I didn't want to upset anyone so even if I didn't believe a word there, I'd read it outloud for them, and light candles, to make my grandfather "happy" even if inside all I wanted was to rip every page of the book out - I didn't do it, out of respect. And what I got? I got pushed into corners, being told how I will burn in eternity if I don't accept jesus in my heart, how I have demon blood and whatnot. As an 8 or 10 year old, that scared me. And when I was 11, 12 was when I started to realize my mother didn't want to spend time with me. Until then, I didn't see it as a problem. When my friends kept asking if she was dead or had run away, since I never mentioned her, I noticed something was wrong. And blamed myself.

As soon as she got home, it was the usual program: she'd take the painkillers, hope in bed and close the door. Sometimes I was sitting in the living room, would say "hi" and her response would either be "have a migraine, need to sleep" or "need to pray". My dad would try to have us have a snack together, ask if she wanted pancakes and coffee, but she'd ask him to lock the door as she prayed. For hours. She'd wake up at 4 am to pray, even if only had to leave home at around 7am, which meant she never slept. This caused arguments, whenever she felt ill, with my dad reminding her that lack of sleep isn't helpful. Instead, she would pray more and I would see less and less of her. She didn't want to talk to me unless was about religion. So with time I started to tell myself "maybe she hates me because I don't believe in her religion". One day, I put a rosary necklace and asked her if could pray with her, thinking that would make us close. For weeks, I wore that necklace to school thinking would make me closer to her - but made no sense to me, felt bland. When she got home from work, she would ask me if I wanted to pray with her - I was invited into the room, so we would sit in the bed for hours.. in silence. I started to try and get conversation going

"So at school today we had.." "Oh you know what my friend said!" "I have a test I'm a bit scared for" "I saw this nice documentary days ago" etc style of conversation. Everytime I talked she shushed me, told me to stay silent. Whenever we went downtown, I wanted to go shopping with her like all my friends did, instead got asked to stay in a church, silent, for hours. It all felt fake, she told everyone how was happy I was praying with her, but she didn't even talk to me. I wanted her to know my favorite color, favorite cartoon and talk to me. And she knew less than me. After a couple months, I got tired. I started to feel terrible, cry at night, not sure why my own mother didn't want to talk to me. I changed myself to suit her, I changed my way to talking, my beliefs, my likings.. And for what? So I stopped. I told her I didn't want anymore. And it all went to normal. She didn't talk to me, instead sat in bed, silently praying for 8 hours a day. While I felt she hated me because I was an atheist, but that she just wasn't brave enough to say it.

I know this may seem stupid, or how I just hate religion or what not because of a bad experience: no. That's why I never like to talk about it. Contrary. This is my way of saying, this is NOT healthy. I hate how people enable her, told me as a kid I should be proud of how my own mother refused to talk to me, to pray for my health. It's not something to be proud of. It's not good. It's not good when you don't even know the person you live with.

But it doesn't end there. Since there, she has been by force trying to "convert" me. Putting jars of holy water in my room, decorations with religious figures in my drawers or shelfs, where I won't see them, or putting statues in middle of my furniture. When I asked her not to do it, she'd argue and say "WHY NOT, is it poison?! No!" even if my actual reason for not doing it was that I was running out of space or having trouble using my night stand. So I silently agreed. Until I got tired, and started acting out in anger. And that's after all situations I have probably mentioned before. I am seen in a bad light now, I am seen as more of the devil now because one day I lost it. After asking her 100 times the past 10 years to not put certain things on my room, I found about 100 small statues, papers, pins, etc in my room. And I took every single one out, threw the ones that weren't statues or of value in the trash, and then went up to her with a box containing the rest and said:

"If I see one of these, be it small or big, in my room once again - it's going straight on trash, I am not kidding. Last warning". And then walked away. And I know people see me as the bad one, but my room isn't her personal trash. And that's what she does, she puts things everywhere and if you trip and it falls.. she doesn't care you could've gotten hurt, she gets upset you destroyed her personal thing. But if she destroys something that is important you, like she has done to multiple of my possessions (statues I loved, clothes, shoes, my own decorations) her response is "well I didn't get hurt"

I know it's probable she has a personality disorder, and I know for 100% the religious aspect in my family and how people treat her as a saint for being OBSESSED and not a healthy obsession, isn't helping our case. She is blind to what me or my dad say, even if we mean well, because we aren't believers. It hurts. It hurts that she refuses help because of people around her, and I'm the one in pain. Even my therapist said: only me and my dad actually know how bad she is, because we live with her. To others it's seem okay, because they can't see the damage. And only if she is willing to change, she will. She isn't.

Not to mention, that seems my struggles come from my genetics, that in part I have inherited part of her traits.. but due to how my family is.. I went to the other opposite. Is it bad that I hate my mother more, after figuring out she probably has a personality disorder?

It's bitter sweet when I remember happy memories from my childhood. They're confusing and sometimes hurt, but sometimes good and I start to wonder.. can I still consider my childhood 'traumatic' if I had them? But then again, there's usually one of two styles:

1 - I was alone during it

2 - Was me trying to make best of a horrible situation

The second one is the most easier to spot, truth be told. We used to have these long rides to the country side for picnics, when I was a kid - my mother's family, me and my dad. It was stressful yet every time I would do same thing, pack my bag perfectly: sketchbook in case I wanted to draw, pencils/pen, camera and fully charged, my CD player or small radio player (until I got my first mp3 at 10 years old.. that thing was a life saver), water bottle, my favorite chocolate chip cookies which I'd ask my dad to buy me, and a book. I'd either listen to my dad's Queen and Deep Purple music tapes or, in case we had to give my grandfather a ride as well, I'd put my headphones and focus on the window. Day dreaming about all the amazing things I'd do when we got there, my day dreaming is actually the good memory. Because the ride there was.. arguments, people getting drunk, yelling, and all this before we even got in the cars to drive at 10 am. And many times I got back to my grandfathers house, in tears. Because I had again mentally prepared myself for that one trip being great and we ended up having to go back early for some stupid reason, usually because the wine ran out and they didn't want to stay in same place. My mother didn't care, she didn't apologize even though was her fault. Usually my dad would ask me if I wanted to go for a walk around the neighborhood, so they didn't make a scene about how I was a baby.

I was 7 years old. I got promised a good time and instead had drunk people making a scene, my parents arguing over my mother not considering us family, and on top of all that got nauseous because someone was drinking wine in the back seat against my dad's orders and spilled a whole bottle on the seat in the summer heat. Of course when I got back to initial spot and got nothing of what I was promised, I was crying. And when went back home, just went into bed and slept in tears. And this was every time. Sometimes my dad would just tell my mother he's leaving with me, and for her to "ask her actual family to drive her back or walk back home, I don't care how you get home" and get me on the car, so we'd go somewhere quiet where I could take photos and go for a hike, which I loved. Usually the car drive was quiet, he was upset, I was about to cry, he was sighing and saying "you know how she is.. we'll have fun, you'll see"

One time was the day before my high school final exams. I had asked my mother to stay home and study, she yelled at me to go with my family. And at 3 pm I was begging them to go back home, my dad tried for an hour to convince my mother and say "she has her final exams tomorrow morning, she doesn't need this stress.. come on, let's go". She kept saying "she can study at night, didn't she study already? it's fun time!". On top of that. Was my period. I had terrible cramps and weakness, which I told my mother and she said to "sit down and not think about it". My dad just said "enough", grabbed our stuff went up to her and saw she was drunk, said goodbye and went away. I didn't study that day. I started crying hysterically in the car about how she was horrible, and when got home, fell asleep crying and woke up the next morning.

Well this had a big turn, didn't it?

But it's like this. I try to prepare myself for a bad situation, thinking it's going to be good and it explodes on my face.

The other type of good memories? Movie afternoons I used to prepare for myself, when my parents were working. I'd shut the curtains to get a dark living room, put on a Disney movie or something, make some sandwhiches, wrap myself on a blanket and immitate the characters. Sometimes using the blanket as dress to play the role of the princess. Until I was 13 and mid one of those afternoons it occured me how I was always alone in reality, but in my head, I wasn't.

Looking back, I tend to think I never told anyone I was hurt. But I did. They just never heard me.

That day before my exams, I never actually fully remembered it until now. I was sobbing in the car saying how she didn't consider us family, and my dad sighed unsure of what to say. Because it's true. On my 16th birthday when I yelled at my mother, fully shaking, how her family hated me, bullied me, criticized me and despised me. My dad saying "she is right, they do hate her, are you blind?". When was 12 and grabbed my stuff on my grandfather's house and told my mother "telling someone if they died no one would care isn't love, it's rude and evil" before I walked out and started crying realizing.. My own family didn't care if I died. The multiple times I said "they don't love, they hate me, they want me dead". Times we were in the car and I said "so why are you leaving with us?! We're not your family, you said it yourself". The times my mother would threaten to go move with my grandfather if we didn't act nice to her.

Only one time did I say I hated her. But I lashed out, completely. I even threw some things on ground, I was in so much rage I started cursing and saying I hated her guts, I hated more than I hate someone, and how I don't give a damn if she died. All because of potatoes. No, no joke. All because I had asked her if she wanted french fries, so I could make us both lunch and she said no. So I started making for me, after I asked 3 times. Then, out of blue, mid me preparing, she came in and said she changed her mind and started chopping potatoes, saying "well we can both do our owns" when.. we have a small kitchen. Really small. There can easily be two people cooking but not in front of the stove. I got pushed into the wall and squeezed way too much, and told her to stop, that if she wanted I could've done it, that I had asked her all morning. Suddenly she took the unfried potato slices out of my hands and started to it herself, I flipped. I don't remember exactly what was that ticked me, but I just started yelling, I threw all my french fries on trash and went out the kitchen trying to calm myself down with her saying "it's just potatoes.. it's just potatoes.. calm down, it's nothing" and turned around yelling at her, I fliped. I called her the devil. I think I broke something. She started crying and telling me to stop, but I kept going, I was out of it. I hate being touch, I hate touch. Especially when I'm panicking, touching me mid a panic attack is asking for a disaster. And she did. She tried to hug me, I hate her hugs. I just despised her so much.

After that, I went into my room and locked the door. I self-harmed. I couldn't handle it. I had to punish myself. I didn't leave the room for hours. When I left she didn't look at me, and I was cold. Then, she told my dad "she freaked out!!!"

My mind is all over the place

I have been having to fight constant depressive states lately. This morning was when started to realize no one actually stays. Everyone leaves. Nobody loves me, I am not made to be loved. And I had to force myself out of that state. When I got home afterwards, I took a nap, which helped. But then had a headache so couldn't get anything done. So guess what, it's night time. I have no homework done, didn't organize my notes from tutoring nor my homework for this week, did nothing.

And now I am just.. what on earth happened. I don't even remember what made me start writting here. Was something positive. But then.. I remembered the whole exam situation and the pain I was in. People telling me to not think about how I was dizzy or weak, considering every time I had my period then I would need to lay down, or would have to lean on my friends while going up the stairs in school because my lightheadness was just way too much. And she knew that. She knew that happened to me, but still said "I have it too" and then dismissed it completely. So having the stress of the exams (since I didn't want to fail, of course), the pain, the crowdedness of the place we were in which only caused me anxiety attacks and "sensory overload" (there was too much music, too many people yelling and running, in what was supposed to be a calm serene place) which caused headaches and panic overall.. I had to stay there for 3-4 hours just being criticized for tapping my toe or listening to my own music to calm myself down. While.. wait for it.. having to baby sit for my cousins. Yes. Baby sit. One was my cousin, a sweetheart so I didn't bother. But the other one was always running around and the parents never educated him, so I had to deal with tantrums and avoiding that he fell down a cliff or whatever. I was just 17. I was in no way shape or form with the mental strength to handle that. And still I kept being called to handle the food or call people or whatever it was, I was pushing in all ddirection in a place where I was told I would be able to relax. So yeah. When I got to the car I panicked. When I got home I just felt ridiculous. And my dad apparently yelled at my mother for completely disregarding the situation and putting all that on my shoulders when I already had so much stress to handle for the week ahead.

I don't know where I'm headed

My dad made me some tea, it's getting cold and I'm just trying to finish this but I am.. not sure.

Not well

Numb, maybe. Completely numb to it, not empty but just.. meh. It's something that has happened times enough for me to say yeah, it hurts but I am used to it. I am like the dog in the psychology appointments who doesn't know can stop the shocks. I just lay down and agree to it

Random angry vent. sorry

I hate when people use 'sexual abuse/assault' lightly. I mean, it's not something I see happen in here (7cups) but I have seen in real life and sometimes people exagerate it for attention. Same happened when bullying got notority here, students in my high school used to yell about their friends bullying them and make a scene, just for fun. For fun. And sometimes I see women yell "sexual abuse" when a man talks to them without order. THATS NOT ABUSE. A man telling you hi when you didn't want to, may be rude, but not abuse. I don't know, but this angers me how apparently yelling sexual abuse/assault is a trend now, it's 'cute', it's 'yas girl power' when people forget if you label everything abuse suddently that word means nothing. Nothing.

I never said what I went through was sexual assault because people didn't use that term lightly before. Was the complete opposite of what is now, and both extremes are terrible. Back then you said you were sexually assault but not raped, and you just "wanted them to keep going but they got disgusted", you said you were raped, and you were a "slut". Now? Seems everyone can yell abuse but this will only make it so that the real victims won't get attention. Same as bullying. Bullying is seen as a joke here. And don't tell me it's not because people started using the term losely.. because it is.

I have always been 'cat called' on street, well not always, but in certain parts of town that would happen. Uncomfortable, frustrating, disgusting? Yes. Abuse? Don't joke. I don't know why people need to use these terms that matters so LOSELY. I am not talking about someone that is describing their abuse and mentions those as ways it hurts them.. I am talking calling that abuse and assault. No. No.

I get really upset with this which makes no sense, I wasn't raped. But now I feel I can't really open up about what happened to me.. well.. I can't ever open up, but it seems I'll be taken as a joke now. Not to mention it's 'old' 'happened 10 years ago' 'I didn't press charges'. Yeah right I didn't, I didn't know what it was. If you don't know something is assault, are you going to assume "umm yeah this is probably wrong, even if everyone is telling me it's nothing and I'm overreacting". Nope, you aren't. But calling everything assault won't cause awareness, will cause misunderstandings.

You can't fight uneducation with exageration. You can't fight hate with inverted hate. You can't. You'll only create worse of a problem. You'll create worse hate, worse uneducation, people won't care. It's like when people come with that stupid "everyone has mental health issues" yeah my friend, no. You're making people who don't know what actual depression is, put a label "I'm so depressed meeeeeeh" and get all money from government to sit in a coffee shop and brag about how they don't do a thing and get all bills paid. I HAVE SEEN IT. And the people who are actually depressed, are forced to go to work every day, and get their work load increased because now they need to do what the others AREN'T DOING plus their work, and when they have a complete nervous breakdown are seen as weak, as "stupid", don't get help.

I don't know why people can't just find a MIDDL GROUND. Educate what it is, what it isn't, and what to do if is and what to do if isn't. Just because your hurt doesn't fit a category, doesn't mean it doesn't count. I don't get it. Why is it only those in a category of hurt get attention, so people broaden the definitions and it loses meaning. Instead, give support to everyone but depending on their category. You're not going to give same coping skills to someone who is having some stress and someone who has a mood disorder, but you can give them similar support. Doesn't mean one is more important than other. UGGGHHH

This may seem a mess and stupid, and may upset some people. But now I see a media that is trying to push a fear of men. When I am trying to accept not all men are same, fight my own fear which I have fought since I am 13. I am starting to be able to accept that a group of people isn't bad because some of those people are bad. Not all men are evil, just because some are. But all I see is "men are evil, men are rapists, men are abusers" NOOOOOOOOO Women can be evil too, women can be rapists too, women can be abusers too, you're fighting hate with hate, you will create an unsafe situation. You know how hard was for me to fight that "men are terrible, need to avoid them" mentality as a teen? And all because of life experiences, not what people told me. Now I need to push it away because media is telling me my fear as a teen was true. When isn't. It isn't. It. IS NOT.

It's terrible

I hate this

It's a trend, sadly. Saying you were sexually assault or abused seems like a trend. In a way people are gaining awareness and recognizing their hurt is real, but that's a small majoritiy compared to the ones who are doing it for attention, sadly. And it's disgusting. Because noooo you can't say it, you can't say who is lying. And yeah, true, I can't guess and I'd rather not say "you and you are faking" because yup I can't know. I can't. But when you later see stories of "oh yeah I lied/I was bored so I blamed him/it wasn't like that" or them accusing men just by looking at them.

And I hate saying this, you know, because some people may distort my words and see it as me hating everyone. I am tired of having my words distorted. People in real life ask my opinions on religion knowing I'm an atheist, on politics knowing I despise unfairness, and then complain when I say something they don't agree with. I am tired of being called 'immature' for my views. No. I am not immature because I don't agree with you. And this is something I can't tell people. I can't tell people my views on abuse because people around me don't believe even emotional abuse is a thing

I can't tell people my views on mental health. I did try multiple times, you know what I get told? "You're too young to know what real depression is". Ha. Let me laugh. There's no age limit to get depression it's not like your brain thinks "mmm not 30 years old yet, can't hit it with my clinical depression button, need to wait". Also, it's not only depression. WHY IS IT ALWAYS ONLY DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY

This is going a bit all over the place

Lately I've been listening to cartoon songs while studying. I don't know, I go through phases. So it's mostly Disney movies, Phineas and Ferb (no judging, okay) and Cartoon Network.. well, when it was good. And today had a memory, which is bittersweet. As a kid, I got forced to visit family. Sometimes distant family which wasn't a nice friendly place. There were these distant aunt/uncle that lived somewhat far, and they lived in a really rural place which meant you didn't have even phone service. Usually when we went, we had to stay for a day, was "family rules" and it meant eating and leaving at dark, while getting there right after breakfast. Keep in mind, was in a rural place. Their bathrooms were always dirty and full of spiders (I have phobia of spiders). Not to mention, if I got up to go to bathroom or even moved, they're comment on everything, or make a scene "oh look the girl is afraid of spideeeeers such a child". Yes. I was 9. Shut up.

I didn't have anything to do, pretty much. That was how things worked in family time.. children shouldn't play after age 5, they should be around adults but not speak. Well, I spoke. I tried to enter their conversations. I got shut down. So most times I was there doing nothing, sitting on a chair, watching people plays cards because yes, children aren't allowed to play cards with adults. And one time, they told me they had gotten sattelite TV, so if I wanted I could go watch. At that time, we didn't have cable at home. For 2-3 years after we moved, we didn't get cable TV to avoid spending money, so to be told I could watch all cartoons I wanted.. I was happy. I didn't even know cartoon network was a 'thing', back then most cartoons I watched had been recorded by my dad on VHS tapes before we moved or even before I was born. There was another girl there (supposedly, my cousin - we never talked) who got bored of it only being in english, but I was used to. It's how I learned english, by watching cartoon network without subtitles. And basically movies without looking to subtitles. I did have english classes since 2nd grade, but was more of "goodmorning teacher, how are you" type of class.

And somehow, that brought me back to that memory. The theme songs. I hated that place, despised it. Especially how one time I just wanted to go home, and was trying to call my dad and say we were ready to go home for him to pick us up, and the phone service was so bad, I was standing on the edge of the roof stretching my arm, while everyone was drinking wine downstairs. I was 10, but only one with a phone, so got told to go "deal with it". And by standing on edge of roof, I mean it was a "roof top" style of roof, and I was leaning on a tree branch and stretching my arm with the phone while crying because had lost connection 3 times and wanted to leave.

One the times my dad went with us, he'd talk with me about multiple things. Since he grew up with a farm, I'd ask him questions about it, plants and trees. So got distracted. When he didn't, I just spent all hours talking inside my head or going up in the roof top and talking to myself about how much hated that place

Once I turned 13 I used that as an excuse of how "I can stay home alone". I have stayed at home on my own since I was 6, truth be told. But when it came to 'visiting family', my mother assumed I had to go. And I think the only way I got to avoid it was by yelling and refusing to get dressed, so I would either go on pajamas or not at all. After that, she didn't mention it again.

A conversation I had with my dad days ago, when family came into topic

Him: sighing "If you're anything like me or my father, you are doomed for life"

Me: "I am like you"

Him: "OH YEAH" laughing "You are just like me, that's true. You are doomed like we both were. My father would do everything for everyone, but if he missed one thing, people would criticize him for decades. Spread hate all over everyone. My aunt even tried to poison me and my brother's view of him for years, to make us despise him"

Me: ".. family did that to me too, 6 years old and being told to hate my own dad for no reason"

Him: sighs and gets a sad voice "yes.. I know.. Sadly, if you're like me, get prepared. People take advantage and if we don't do what they say, they spread hate. They can never be happy with what you do. Never, because the only way for you to do what they want, is if you don't think about yourself one second or you're done. You need thick skin" we both go silent because we realize it's the truth

It reminded me of a conversation he once had with my mother. She was yelling about how he had to visit his family, which he is avoiding because of problems. He started saying how each time he visited them, he lost sleep and felt terrible for days. How he wished he was like his brother, to detach from people and not give 2 cents about if they're alive or dead. Because "I say I'll never return because they have hurt me and others I care about, and then they need help and I bend over even knowing I'll get screwed again and won't get nothing good. I should be a horrible person, I shouldn't have compassion about people. I should be the monster people paint me as. Me having feelings about them, makes me ill and they don't care"

My mother kept on criticizing him, saying he is really uncaring and unempathetic and doesn't care if his family lives or dies, while I kept yelling at her to shut up. But his conversation.. I am like him. I am like his father too. People paint both of them in such a bad color, but all because they're people who cared so much that people ran over them. I get painted in a bad color.. though I am not on the outside, so I don't know 'what' they say. Makes me wonder same as I did when I was 11-13 years old

What makes someone be considered a bad person? Is it a relative concept, or an absolute truth? More and more, I start to realize it's a relative concept. And a bad one. It more oftens reflects an egocentrism than a reality. More of what YOU feel makes them bad, than what really makes them bad. People forget to look outside their bubble when placing hate and saying "I hate them" without using the "because they did this and that" and showing actual proof.

At 11-13 I wanted to understand what makes someone bad, so I could avoid it. I wanted to be perfect, nice, caring, generous, the ideal person everyone will like and adore and never hate. But it opened a new can of whorms for me.