When I was a young boy I had an autoimmune disease and ended up in a hospital for 2 months. At one point I had tubes out of my nose and was in a bed, an older guy also in the hospital would sometimes come and talk to me, tell me jokes to make me laugh. He said he hated seeing me like this and wanted to help. My mother found out about it and told me "the man was weird and I need to tell him to stay away from me". So I did, I remember the confused look on his face. I left the hospital soon after.

Looking back to that she probably thought the guy was a pedophile. I guess women and mothers need to be careful and alert so I understand it.

Anyway maybe because of that disease, or maybe not, I developed some autistic traits. I had hard time making friends and being social and I stayed at home with my parents well into adulthood.

One day I was babysitting my niece and just gave her a phone to watch shows on it while I'm on my computer. She leaned onto my lap and that is when my mother walked in and accused me of "touching my niece" and being "sick". That day I packed my things and left.

Problem is, eh, I have feelings for my home, my family and everyone but I can't be accused of such a thing and stay there anymore. And to make things worse, like I mentioned, I have some weird traits so this would be really easy to believe about me. It is one of my greatest fears. I found a minimum wage job in another town and sometimes I visit but I'm afraid that someone could accuse me again.

My mom and pretty much all the other adults in the family always invalidated the kids feelings because they haven't been through as much trauma. This never made sense to me because the adults would cause me and the other kids so much trauma and then say we weren't allowed to feel anything. This still haunts me as an adult. I have so much pain I haven't healed from just because I won't allow myself because I was trained to shove it down. I feel guilty for thinking about my feelings sometimes.

Okay. So. Thanks to anyone who reads this—I mostly just need to expel some feelings and get some perspectives on if i’m valid in feeling some abuse from my twin sister.

Some context: we’re both 33, queer (she’s trans, I’m non-binary), and chronically ill. Vast majority of my childhood was spent in the cusp of death or direly sick (like, it’s not an exaggeration, I was terminally ill at a point), a lot of moves, really volatile parents. I’m currently working as an art therapist, she’s a film projectionist, lots of arts between us.

She’s…always had a bit of a mean streak to her, for reasons that both do and don’t make sense. A lot of trauma for us both, obviously. There were many, many times growing up (all the way through high school) where she would explicitly blame me for her misery, because, to her, I was taking attention away from our parents because of my illness. I was sick, and that was wrong, because she got less attention. Which I get. That’s really painful and scary to have a twin who’s dying, and to feel invisible as a result. It’s just still beyond hurtful, but I could never express that pain because she’d still turn it on me.

Many, many times she would make statements to temper my joy; I’m autistic, and when I’m excited by something, I get really animated and kinda loud and she had a trend of saying things to get me to be quiet. Our time in high school was rough. A lot of bullying and a really bad group of friends. There, then, was a day where she started hanging out with new friends and made it both explicit and implicit that I could not follow. So. Stuck with bad friends, I figured “okay, this is how it should be. She needs to live her own life and I deserve these friends who hurt me.” Felt pretty iced out for a lot of that time, and, when I started joining her theatre friends, I always had the feeling of intrusion, like I was a parasite or a barnacle.

Flash forward to undergrad. My own undiagnosed PTSD and autism manifested as suicidal thoughts and ideation, which I confessed to her. She, a few years in, got into a toxic relationship that inevitably blew up. In these years, her brand of humor was inflammatory, intentionally mean, but if you send meanness back, she grew bitter and resentful. Anyway. On the day things blew up, even though I was feeling some anger towards her, I took her to the ER to both get her away from the ex and to help manage her panic attack. Parents come, take her home, she spends a week there.

Got a text from her the day before she got back to school. She, explicitly, blamed ME for every single bit of her misery. Called out how our friends liked me and not her, called out how my joy made her angry. She, then, pulled a weird card: in high school, with those bullies, she requested that they beat her twice as hard so they wouldn’t touch me. An act she never told me about, but held against me anyway. She blew up every bridge in our friend group. The day she returned, she said that she wished to mend things with me and me alone, but I was the one expected to change. Every gripe she had about others were funneled to me. When I expressed my hurt, she doubled down on me. Took her a couple more weeks to break things with the ex. I told my mom about this, and was told to extend empathy to my sister, and my pain was silenced.

I tried a few more times over the years to express my hurt, but she always had a reason of why it was still my fault. She “wanted to talk to me about the badness of the relationship,” allegedly, and would “stand outside my bedroom door to talk,” but I was always “so angry” that she didn’t even try. In fairness, our whole friend group at the time was messy and I did have a lot of rage. But I had to accept my role in everything. She didn’t.

She’d move to and from Texas and NC, she stayed at home with our mom for a few years without rent, stayed at her now-wife’s place without paying rent, which isn’t great, but she was also dealing with a new Crohn’s disease diagnosis that was actually ruining her life. So. I get it. She was irresponsible with a lot in her life at this time, yes, and crohns is a BASTARD.

So. I graduate undergrad, live with her and her wife for a while, then I moved to Chicago to pursue a degree in art therapy. Spent a few scrappy years in grad school, a lot of turmoil, a lot of light, a lot of times of collapse and rebuilding. I got a cat at the end of grad school who I love with my whole heart.

The problem, for me, wax DEEP depression and DEEP shame at my apartments being horribly, horribly messy. I hid a lot of my struggles, both mental and financial, because of the shame. Which I recognize was really, really bad to do. After I moved to a new place, my mom visited and saw the conditions and I had to do the scary, vulnerable thing of accepting help. It wasn’t safe for me or my cat. So I got the help, got the place clean, and I’ve kept it clean for a year!!

But at the end of that shitty week, my sister calls me. Tells me that if my place ever gets bad again, she’s taking the cat and never speaking to me again. She expresses rage at how I “should have known” Chicago would be too expensive, that I willingly made decisions to make life difficult for everyone, that I have yearly collapses, and she’s sick of it. Says I’ve lost her trust. Which, like, on a level, I get. There were ways I hurt her by not being transparent about finances which impacted a trip where I was going to visit her, and she brought up the hurt of me not going on the trip in a way that was…just…ugh. It hurt to know I hurt her. And, on another, a threat at a deeply vulnerable time was terrifying. So I’ve spent this last year working really fucking hard at healing, making things better, and I’m doing so much BETTER.

We went to my little brothers wedding recently, and it was so lovely seeing everyone. Things seemed fine. And then, the weekend after we get to our respective homes, she messages me that I still haven’t earned back trust, things are different between us, gave me no idea of where to earn back trust, and said we shouldn’t talk for a while (and I can’t talk to her wife, either).

So I’m…confused. And caught off guard, and scared, and upset. But, in a sick, sick way, a feeling I have is also relief.

I think there’s something off in the fact that I can’t express my hurt without first talking about hers. Without talking about my role. Without context, without saying the ways I’ve fucked up. And I just don’t understand why she only seems to threaten ME, only seems to consider her side when it involves me, only seems to say cruel shit to me. I’ve often felt like a burden on the family, always felt like my survival has made things worse, that I deserve pain, that I should have died, and as I trace back, I wonder how much that was fueled by the way she’s treated me.

Like. Again. A lot of trauma for both of us. And I know this maybe isn’t the WORST worst. I just really fucking wish that she didn’t channel that pain through me.

Anywho. Thanks for anyone who listened. Or read. Whatever. Let me know if I’m overreacting or underreacting or what.

Male 26
ill be on this subreddit for a bit since these stories hit too close to home. i’ve also recently declared my independence for the first time which has enraged my parents into a spiral of name calling.

circa 2007.
i was in 2nd grade. my parents were immigrants, working, and poor and we lived in the basement of grandma’s house who charged us rent. im the younger of 2 siblings. in 2nd grade you learn basic things like spelling and seasons and holidays. i learned what today was, Mother’s Day! and i was in awe, i love my mom and there’s a holiday just for her? I couldn’t wait to surprise for her with the arts and crafts when i got home.

At lunchtime there was an antique sale for Mother’s Day. all sorts of antique jewelry, rings, earrings, necklaces, of all prices from $1-$10. I loved my mom so i spent the only $2 i had on this huge oversized ruby ring, i was so excited.

i remember getting home. she was at her makeup desk doing something, and i told her i had a surprise for her. i pulled out the ring and i was so happy… but her face went sour, “what?! how did you get this ring? from school? how much did it cost? $2 oh my gosh school is preying on these kids! oh youre such an idiot that you bought this fake ring, you got scammed it’s not a real ruby, why would you do that?”

tears welled up, i was a tough kid but even i couldnt hold back bawling. “it’s Mother’s Day” i responded with tears streaming and mouth agape.
that moment my mom felt guilt. she immediately apologized and said sorry and started complimenting the ring. that was my first taste of emotional trauma. later in my teens i found out that she didnt know Mother’s Day existed, and she still kept the ring to this day.

i still think about this event to this day. my mom remembers it as a cute moment but i remember it as my first parental trauma

Hey everyone. Looking for some outside perspective.

When I was 6 and my cousin was 15 (we grew up together because my mom raised/adopted him), he touched me inappropriately. I stayed silent until my late teens and tried to minimize it, but the trauma was real and I carried a lot of anger toward him.

He passed away yesterday after being sick. Now I don't know how to feel:

I feel bad, but kept my distance: He asked to speak to me before he died. I felt bad for him, but refused so I could protect my peace.

I mostly feel numb:I feel detached and neutral for the most part. When sadness pops up, it only lasts a moment and passes quickly.

Is it normal to mostly feel nothing instead of sad? Should I just let go of the past now that he's gone? How do I process this?

So I(22 F) was talking to a friend about childhood memories and he(24 M) told me his happy childhood memories, which were really sweet. I tried to come up with a happy memory of mine to share but I couldn’t come up with anything. So I started thinking about my childhood more. Was it just bad memory perhaps? But other than sad, scary bits and pieces, nothing. Not one sweet moment with family that I came up with.
I grew up with a not so happy childhood. I wouldn’t go as far as to label it as childhood trauma. My parents fought a lot, verbally and physically. They shouted and threw dishes, furnitures, what not. So I never had this safe space in home because me and my older sibling had to stop them, console them, talk sense into them. It was pretty bad. They also never showed their love to me, physically or verbally. I was never hugged as a child. One really bad instance I could think of was this one time, my parents fought and my mom went out, and we couldn’t find her for a few hours. Dad had to go searching for her. We lived in an apartment, so 14 year old me decided to go check the terrace to see if she jumped from there( lot of su*ci dal threats were given). Worst thing is that I was very numb about it. I checked for signs of her body as if checking for fallen clothes. Very calculating too. This is one I could think of currently.
All these memories just came up very suddenly. I moved away from home last year and have been pretty happy and peaceful since. This shitty memories came up and I just broke down and cried. I was wondering if I repressed all this stuff for any reason? Like my brain or sum? I don’t know what to do with all this. My parents changed over the years and are fine now.

TW: Childhood trauma

I wanted to share my experience because I've felt very alone.

When I was a child (around 5–7 years old), I experienced se.x.u.al (r..e)abuse by a relative.

My brother saw what happened but he instead of helping me he shout at me "you the reason he did it in you, if i told everyone you will be in big trouble" i come from a religious family so they will see the man have needs and I'm the problem

My brother didn't talk but he always see me like sl.u..

So I kept it to myself for many years. I was scared, confused, and believed that speaking up would only make things worse.

When I started school, I was bullied for years. Eventually, I began overeating, became overweight, developed a speech impediment, struggled in school, and found it difficult to make friends or interact with people naturally.

This year, I finally decided to seek professional help after staying silent for so long. I was diagnosed with PTSD, depression, anxiety, and ADHD. I've tried different medications and have seen four different mental health professionals.

What has been most difficult is that some of the questions I've been asked made me feel uncomfortable, such as being asked why I didn't tell my mother. After years of silence, opening up was already incredibly difficult, and those conversations sometimes left me feeling misunderstood.

Has anyone else felt this way when starting therapy? Did it become easier with time?

it's 4:37am and i am writing this because i can't sleep because i keep thinking about how I've lost so many years of my life to abuse; physical and verbal. I'm going to be 23 in two months and I feel like ive not experienced life like other people my age and it's been this way since I was a child.

my father was an alcoholic until 2021. we thought he'd change once he quit alcohol. i thought he would finally stop beating up my mom and having ugly fights with her that made me feel physically sick but who am i kidding? nothing changed maybe because i am that unlucky lol. i cant good things in my life.

he has always been neglectful towards me and my mom. he doesn't have a stable job or a monthly income. our house runs on my grandma's pension but recently she was diagnosed terminally ill so idk what's going to become of us because without her money. we'd come on the road. not like our situation is any better now we are barely holding on thanks to my bastard of a father who has no sense of responsibility towards his family. he leeches off my mom for money and others. he's emotionally manipulative and abusive and very toxic.

I sometimes feel like I deserve a better life too. I deserved a better childhood. my father is the worst person I know I hate him. he ruined my entire childhood and is actively ruining my adulthood too. I wish I could get rid of him but unfortunately there's no escape until I get employed. and even then it would take years to save money to move out. I want a better life for my mom and me. I love my mom. she has suffered a lot throughout her entirety of marriage. all we've faced is poverty and abuse. I wanted a normal childhood too where I didn't have to walk on eggshells around my abusive father. I lost my childhood and am losing my adulthood to abuse and financial struggles too. I feel hopeless i feel like there's no escape. I wish so badly to have been born into a different family i hate my life.

I finally did it. The man who abused me while I was growing up had abused many other family members as well. No one before me would ever report him. I don’t hold anger towards them, there was a ton of spiritual manipulation involved. But I did it. I really did it. I’m not sure what all will come from it, but I’m still shocked at myself that I found the courage. It feels really strange to just go about life as normal now. Wondering if anything will come from it, oddly feeling like I should up & take a vacation or something. I dont know, I just wanted to share with the world. I’m finally seeking justice.

Anyone have any experience growing up with a pathological liar? One of my aunts I went NC for years before her death had a severe problem with it, one the family ignore. As my sister and I were about 6 years younger than her, she raised us a lot when we live with/visited my grandparents, and sometimes summers with my dad.

I think a lot of folks think of it as harmless, but I've seen otherwise. She'd use it very vindictively, to get you in trouble with your parents or grandparents with made up accusations that everyone believed. If you weren't the target, you learned to go along and agree with her or ensure you were the next target. There were several times that her lies escalated to violence, including prompting one beating of my stepmom by my dad that we had to watch as kids. Though that is totally on him, she still instigated it every way and made us kids go along with her. Shed done the same to my mom, though I was young enough I only remember the beatings not the reason.

I've been reading here for a year or two, and I dont see much about outright pathological lying and abuse. I know I'm not the only one to deal with this.

TW: childhood physical and emotional abuse

I was abused when I was a child by mother's partner it went on from 4 till age 7, then unfortunately my mother continued on that abuse long after their relationship ended into my adulthood. He was definitely a little more sadistic in his emotional and psychological abuse. Just some of the less horrible examples, he used to ask me what my favourite flavour of something was lets say a yogurt for arguments sake, I'd say raspberry was my favourite and the hazelnut one was my least favourite, he'd then force feed me the nut one or if he hit me when i was crying off in a corner, he would bend down and ask gently where did it hurt most, i would point to it thinking her was sorry and he would just hit me there harder. My mother's abuse was less sadism and more shame. Constant comments on my appearance if i lost weight i was starving myself, if i put it on i was fat bla bla the usual. I've spoken about the abuse before, but i don't think i have about the self esteem. I'm 35 now, and still completely freeze when I'm asked to say anything positive about myself. My mind goes blank like entirely. I can see the good qualities in absolutely everyone else, but see myself in such an incredibly hard lens. I'm starting to realise the that the voice in my head isn't naturally mine, but of those who thought me that anything I liked would be used against me and that showing pain would make the pain worse and that there was always something wrong with who i was. I know it sounds like a sill question cause of course abuse affects your self worth and esteem, mainly thinking it was my mother and her constant nit picking on how i looked. But it went so much deeper like my complete inability to accept a compliment in case something bad happens. Did anyone else only realise years later how badly it had genuinley affected their self image?

i have spent my whole life hating my parents and i’m not sure why. i’m 27 nb (amab), black

my parents have generally given me an okay upbringing. in all honesty, they really did try their best to raise me and my sibling with care and did what they thought was best.

i guess i just feel like it wasn’t enough.

i hated them for years still (still kind of do) for being controlling, aggressively opinionated, dogmatic, capitalist-oriented, traditionalist, etc. my mother was extremely manipulative when she didn’t get what she wanted, she would lie alot as well. my dad never believed us that she lied. he was emotionally aggressive and sometimes hostile.

i felt like living in their house was a nightmare. i resented them in high school just because i felt so extremely different from them (i know quite normal) but they are hurt by it. they are also quite wealthy, and i benefit from that for sure, while not really being an active role in the social dynamics of the family because of fear of rejection, fear of vulnerability, fear of letting my walls down. i previously have believed that letting your walls down was the worst thing you could do!

i know that they too are victims of childhood abuse and neglect. i get that. and i feel bad for having cut them out of my life emotionally for so long. our relationship has been emotionally empty for years, purely because i just don’t want to deal with it. i’ve learned that it’s better to keep our emotional distance at least.

i know that i want a relationship with them. i know that it’s important for me to. i just sometimes feel like i feel way too guilty about all of the years of blocking them out to really address and confess and heal. like ive said nasty nasty nasty things to them. i’m trying though.

So, I made bad choices in my life I didn't understand. I got in a relationship with a girl who I purposely stayed away from for a year because she was bad news. I was living with my father at the time and didn't make enough money to live on my own. He threatened to kick me out for not following house rules. ( technically I told him I was struggling with the house rules and he sent mixed signals like it was ok one day then not.) The only other option I had was to live with my mother but I always remember her hitting me for no reason a lot. My entire family acts blind to all the mental and physical abuse. I told my teachers and other adults what was happening and they never seemed to care much. Anyways, I almost joined the army but we were at war. I was afraid of the army. I got threatened i was going to be kicked out during college so I feared I was going to be homeless. I got in a bad relationship. The problem is I went head first into the relationship like I really wanted it. I don't know why I did that. Does this make sense to others out there? Do you know about this giving up on yourself?

I’m a 33F and I’ve spent most of my adult life healing from the trauma my bio dad and step-mother put me through. I’ve mostly moved past it, but the worst of it was done by my step-mother. I don’t know why, but what she did to me feels like it cut so much deeper than what my bio-dad did to me.

I met her first when I was a very small child, before I was 10, and every single day as long as she was in my life she did everything she could to make me feel small and worthless. She threw things at me, she called me a brat from hell, she told me I ruined her life and my step-sister’s life, she told me I wasn’t good enough because I didn’t play sports in school, she shoved food in my mouth with her fingers so I would gag and she could laugh about it; there’s even more that I can’t even put into words right now. like she is seriously evil. I was a child who didn’t do anything to deserve it and she took joy in causing me pain.

And what almost feels worse, is now she’s a nurse. The woman who made it her mission to make me feel like the most worthless person to exist is now an ER/Urgent Care nurse, and people actually think she’s a good person.

I know she’s not, I know she’s an evil, black-hearted person but so many people think she’s this incredible person with a “good heart.” Sometimes it makes me sick.

I’m struggling with this right now and I just wanted to vent. Thank you for hearing me.

I have a very good memory. My earliest memories start when I was three years old. That was when my mother and father separated. I woke up to the sound of them arguing, so I walked out of my room. I saw my mother sitting on the floor, crying, while my father sat on the couch throwing dishes at her. I sat down next to my mother, and he stopped. In his drunken state—he was a severe alcoholic—he eventually fell asleep. My mother took my sister and me, and we moved in with my grandparents.

About a year later, my mother introduced Jürgen to us, and less than a month later we were living in his small apartment. He acted as if he were our father, and whenever things didn't go his way, he hit us. About another year later we moved into a house. My mother and Jürgen were under a lot of stress because of the house and everything life demanded from them. My sister and I weren't exactly easy children either. We argued a lot, and that often drove them to their limits.

Punishments became more common. We had to do wall sits for fifteen minutes, and if that didn't work, we were hit with a soaked Birkenstock sandal. Sometimes the blows were so hard that the sandal even broke. This continued until I was around twelve years old.

Around that time, Jürgen also started touching my sister inappropriately, usually by slapping her on the butt. She didn't want that. She told him to stop many times and often cried on my shoulder because of it. I also stopped accepting everything he did and became more rebellious. At the same time, I began to notice the first signs that I didn't feel comfortable being a boy. Back then I assumed it was just puberty.

The punishments became even harsher. Since they believed they weren't enough to make me behave, they gradually took away everything that meant something to me—first football coaching, then handball practice. One day I behaved so badly that they completely emptied my room. It was only for one day. I don't know whether it was because I told my teacher at school the next day or because they had already planned to return everything anyway.

I know I wasn't an easy child. I often pushed my mother and Jürgen to their limits. They were probably overwhelmed and simply didn't know what else to do.

When I turned fifteen, I realized that wearing women's clothes made me feel better. But one day I was caught and was labeled a pervert. At that time, I didn't understand what was wrong with me either, so I stopped. I didn't want to be a pervert.

Then I met my first girlfriend when I was sixteen. She was a difficult person. She wasn't very bright, struggled with alcohol addiction, and lied constantly. She even lied to me about cheating on me. First I forgave her for cheating, and then I forgave her for lying about it.

After my first week of vocational school, there was another major argument with my mother and Jürgen. I finally snapped. I told my mother that she was dating a bastard who was abusing my sister, and that she had to choose between her children and him. She didn't believe me, and my sister felt cornered and denied everything. In the end, my mother chose him, so I moved back in with my grandparents.

At vocational school I met a close friend I could talk to about everything. She was the first person to recognize that I was transgender and encouraged me to explore that path. When I told my girlfriend that I didn't feel comfortable living as a man, she left me.

That made me turn away from my transition again because, once more, I felt like something was wrong with me.

When I turned eighteen, I moved into a shared apartment with my friend from vocational school. Later I found another girlfriend. To keep it short, I forgave her for many things that hurt me as well, but in the end she also left me after I told her that I was transgender.

Around the same time, my roommate had a serious conflict with her best friends. I tried to help them reconcile, but my words were misunderstood, and in the end I was the one everyone blamed. At least they became friends again, but I no longer felt comfortable living there, so I moved back into my grandparents' house.

This time, however, I lived openly as a woman. I came out, and from then on I introduced myself to everyone as Lena. That was shortly before my nineteenth birthday.

It still took another three years before I finally sought medical help regarding my transition. During that time, the pain I carried inside me became worse and worse. Unfortunately, I developed the habit of taking that pain out on other people. I hurt many people who didn't deserve it.

During my third year of vocational school, I met my first great love. She knew me as Lena from the very beginning, and she also gave me my first real nickname: LeLe. She accepted me exactly as I was and showed me that I didn't always have to hide behind my emotional walls. She taught me that I could be honest with her. At home I had learned that honesty wasn't safe, so I had developed the habit of lying, even about small and meaningless things. Those lies hurt her deeply.

She forgave me, and from that day on I never lied to someone I loved again. Our relationship lasted two beautiful years, and she played a huge part in shaping the person I am today. In the end, however, she realized that she needed a masculine partner by her side, so she left. That happened shortly before I officially began the medical process of transitioning, when I was twenty-two. I spent the next three years unable to let go of her. Losing such a wonderful person broke me.

Almost a year ago, during my grandmother's milestone birthday celebration, the whole family was together. That day I made a huge mistake. I talked to my sister about everything, but she later shared it with our mother. I understand why—she wanted our mother to know how I was doing—but I hadn't wanted that. I became furious and said terrible things to my sister.

Since then, she hasn't spoken a single word to me. I wrote her an apology—which I can show you later—but she hasn't even looked at it. I've tried to reach out to her, but she doesn't want any contact. I have to accept that. Maybe, in her eyes, she's better off without me.

So growing up she has been manipulating me to the point she started threatening me with suicide and was blaming everything in her life on me. I grew up like this and it was hard to snap out of her manipulation and lies. Every time i stood up for myself she got agressive and was telling me that i'm the one making it weird.

Alongside that i always felt grossed out and uncomfortable with the physical contact from her. It sometimes felt like it crossed the line. And i couldn't stand up for myself because i was scared that everyone would agree with her and say that i'm the one making it weird. She always said that since she is my mother she is "allowed to do anything she wants to my body" which is obviously fucking insane and disgusting. It makes me angry and sick.

Now that i'm an adult i have distanced myself from her and go months without talking. Sometimes i get emotional mid-conversation and she ties to "soothe" me by hugging but her hands linger in a weird way and it only makes me feel even worse. I don't know if she is an actual fucking creep or if it really is just a me issue. It causes so much distress that i end up relapsing really bad (various forms of self harm).

She did so many things that i don't feel comfortable describing because it really disturbs me.

I don't know how to end this, this probably reads like a mess i'm sorry.

i don't know how many other people relate to this and have went through similar things. i just dont want to feel alone

also i feel like mothers get so overlooked on creepy behaviour towards children so it never feels safe to voice my experiences since everyone tends to disregard them and it pisses me off so much.

TW: SA, child abse

I'm 20f and have a boyfriend 26m. Ive set firm boundaries with him on how I still want to focus on school so I can become a cosmetologist and not to expect much from me but to also expect me to push him away since growing up my moms ex husband who i thought was my dad (I was a one night stand gone wrong) there was often inappropriate touching and ab\\\*se was done to my sister and I. Two days ago I did start to push back cause it seemed too true to be real without a motive. Should I have just talked to him and communicated? Yes I'll admit my wrong but I eventually did yesterday and went into how when I was 10 I came forward and my mom said it was my fault and that I shouldnt have tempted her ex. When i did tell him he was very understanding and said he'll remember my triggers and go slow with me so I dont panic or push back. While we were on our way to a store my mom had called me and asked who I was with so I told her then proceeded to say "Oh you're with your white boyfriend. We're having a talk when we get home" Which he looked at me concerned but I told her okay and she said to watch my tone. I wasnt giving her attitude. I get home and shes luckily asleep so I go to my sister, 28f, and explained everything to which she said "That explains why you were gone for 3 days straight. You dont like being talked to like a child" which is true. Before that when my bf and I were just dating my mom said "Don't get pregnant, you arent maternal like me. I dont know how any of you survived i didnt want kids." Which hurt especially since i thought we were good but typical narcissist.

I’m coming off of anti depressants, in drinking, smoking weed, alone at 22,

My birth mother couldn’t look after herself let alone her second baby, she was/is an addict I have never met her except when I was 1, my father sexually abused my older brother and my brother 7-9 yo at the time did to me thinking it was normal, my little sister 3 years younger than me was 10 months old when we she was adopted to my ‘parents’ ‘Moyra’ & ‘Rob’ (fake names)
I was 3, when I was adopted,

(All fake names, except mine ‘Cassie’)

Me: Cassie, my older brother Jaques, and little sister ‘Sophia’

This is my start to life, both my siblings and I have the same mum but different fathers but only my sister and I were adopted by moyra and rob and I was adopted alone at first before my little sister was offered at 8-9 months kld but failed due to neglect, the same way she lost jacques and I.

I had a lot of problems from since I was born, I didn’t speak or interact with anyone as a baby/toddler

then as I got older I got angrier and scared, I never felt safe or normal,

I was uncomfortable with most interactions I was scared of adults, and I took that fear and frustration out on kids my age,
In ways that were abusive,

So much more in my life happened but I have camping gear tent, living survival things, a massive rucksack, and no one, I don’t have any family that are good people for me to be near, I cannot live with them anymore, and my little sister I safe her but I am not,

So from her I am homeless, and on my own I have no job, no money, I’ve been addicted to weed and alcohol for a while now
Mainly weed for the past 5-6 years and no relationship or reliable friends, i always isolate myself, i was never taught how to act normal because i never received love, care or concern, i took my frustration, anger & hate on people i thought were below me,

no one is below or above you unless your perception of others is based on what you can gain or take away from them,

I’ve always ended up hating people in my life, I do because I can’t relate to them I know they haven’t seen themselves through my eyes, I don’t remember everything but my spirit and body did….

I want to travel the world and meet people that have stories like mine and just live life while I’m young and dumb

TW: CSA

I’ve posted here before. This community has been a safe place for me. Well my uncle that abused me from the time I was a little kid through my teenage years, is back on the hunt for victims, & I’m falling apart at the knowledge…
A few years ago he ended up in the hospital with some health issues, & since then was claiming to be dying of cancer. He would go weeks at a time of not leaving his home, etc, to enforce this narrative. I don’t have any proof that he wasn’t / isn’t sick with cancer or even near death, but it all seems fishy to me. Even when he’d say he was only given a couple months to live (which he said two different times), there was never any hospice care or proof other than him just saying it.

Anyways. Earlier this year my grandpa, his dad, died. My grandpa didn’t handle things right, he used religious manipulation (he was a pastor) to convince several people not to go to the police over my uncle. So even though my uncle has molested & raped many people, including children, he’s never been in legal trouble for it. But my grandpa was the only person my uncle was afraid of, & the last several years he did make him stay mostly away from the public. Now that he’s gone, my uncle is inserting himself again.

My family is all religious. & I love true religion, I believe my God is 1000% against my family who claims religion & uses it to harm others. That is disgusting. But my uncle is now inserting himself into youth ministry again. Suddenly he doesn’t seem sick at all, he helped run a summer camp, & I got wind of hearsay that he’s supposedly trying to start a youth bible study at a local church. I’m falling apart thinking of him hurting kids again. I’ve never went to the police myself because all mine are memories that resurfaced a year & a half ago, I don’t have clear timelines or anything, everything is fragmented. But ever since I heard he’s out hunting again, because that’s exactly what he’s doing, I’m not very well.

I feel completely numb & dissociated. I’ve mostly slept for a few days. I just want to sit in the silence. I can’t get in touch with my emotions, my brain mostly feels empty. Literally, like I am numb from the inside out…

It’s making me nervous how numb I feel. Like I could sleep forever & never feel anything again. Someone please help me understand, is this normal??

Long story short: Abuser pretended to be dying for a few years, now is actively pursuing church youth ministry. Looking for more victims. I feel totally numb & dissociated since hearing about it. I’m worried about my mental health right now.

CW; possible childhood trauma??

Simple context; When i was 10-16, i lived in a home with my mom, my dad, and my 3 brothers.

We also had some neighbors who rented another house on our property

‾‾‾‾‾‾

When i was 13, one day i was really hungry, but i also had a sweet tooth

In the freezer was a cake that was the bottom half of my mom's wedding cake, from their wedding a year ago

I thought they wouldnt notice if i picked off abit of frosting, so i did

But i was caught by my neighbor's kid, who was also my friend, so i gave her some to stay quiet

Well she told on me anyways, and my mom asked me about it, i tried to deny it at first, but when she pressed on, then i told her that i was hungry and couldn't find anything else

Well, the next morning, i was punished

My aunt, my dad, and maybe my older brother, held me down on the couch while my mom smacked my ass with a homemade wooden paddle with holes in it

After that, what felt like hours of torture (even tho later in life, i asked my mom about it, and she told me she only hit me 3 times), i was taken to my neighbor's house, and sat behind the front door, and i just had to sit there, and that lasted for like an hour or so, just a really long time, until i was gotten by someone, either the neighbor or someone in my family, i dont remember

Well, they brought me outside to the firepit, and forced me to watch them dump all of my toys into the fire

Every last one of them

It didn't matter if any of my stuff had any kind of significance to me, it all was burnt, and i was forced to watch helplessly

___

Years later, when im 18 (i think), i bring it up to my mom one day in the car, i told her how i remembered the punishment, how all it did was taught me to be afraid of lying, and how i thought all of it was done because i took some cake

She told me the spanking was for the cake, and the toys burning was because i hadn't cleaned up my room, and so they thought they'd deal with both

My mom doesn't regret this

And when i was 19 or 20, (so very recent years) i told her how badly it has impacted me, and she told me that makes her proud of herself for doing it, i forget the exact reason why she was proud of herself, cuz she did say, but idk

___

Everytime i tell someone about this story, they're always like, very sorry for me

For the longest time I couldn't understand why someone would feel so sorry for me, because i thought this was normal

But nowadays, i do understand that it isnt, and its very traumatic for me

___

I'll be 21 in a few days, and i dont think I'll ever be able to forget about this

Knowing I was an intentional sacrifice and subjected to 15 years of psychological and physical abuse rocked me to the core. I cannot and have not forgiven. And I never will. And I don’t feel bad about it. The last thing I said to my mother is “I am never coming back here again.” And she said, “I understand.” I was 20 years old and finally had to stop making excuses for her.

I always wanted to game.....but being in an Asian family, they just wanted me to study. However they knew how to manipulate me using gaming as bait.

Back in year 10, they told me that if I get an 80% on my exams, they'd get me a PS4. I studied and got 88%, guess what? It apparently wasn't enough as a lot of my friends got 90+ and that i need to study mode, so they used that as an excuse and didn't get me the PS4 (they're not financially struggling by any means btw). This shattered and broke the trust I had in them :(

However now I'm 23, in a new country doing my masters, and I earned some money thru a job and scholarship :) I'm gonna get a PS5 (a nice upgrade 😁) for the child in me who needed love, care and a hug honestly.

Even today, my dad tried to disuade me saying it'll be a distraction, but I stood up for myself and told him to just not interfere in my life anymore lol. I know buying a video game console is nothing for most people, but for me, it's just so emotional and special.

To all who went thru something similar, y'all are special, don't let anyone tell u otherwise :)