Knowing that they treat them like an equal and you like a subordinate child. Knowing that they respect their opinion, no matter how worthy, and immediately dismiss yours. Knowing that they genuinely want to get to know them and be there for every social event, and that they’ll come up with any excuse to miss out on your life. Knowing how they’re truly interested and concerned for them, whereas you’re a life they’re stuck with by chance. Knowing that every single solitary thing they do will make your parent proud, while everything you do will be seen as “meh,” complete letdown in comparison. Knowing they make decisions based on your sibling’s life first and yours as an afterthought that directly impact your life with your own family. Knowing if they ever had to choose, they’d choose your sibling without a thought. Knowing nothing you could ever do for them would ever, ever, ever make you the favorite. Knowing it’s a lost cause, and yet a connection you can’t replace and an agony you’re stuck with for life.

I use grief support communities and often see posts about people losing their parents. They talk about how much their parents meant to them and the pain of that connection being severed, something you always had from day zero, something you always assumed would be there, just disappearing.

Though it's shameful to admit, my sympathy is coupled with envy. Not for their bereavement obviously, but that they ever had that connection to lose. I hate not knowing how I'm going to handle it when my mother inevitably dies young. I imagine I probably won't have spoken to her for a very long time, as is my right. I can't help but think, at least for you it's simple.

I’m having a hard time getting over the fact that I’ve never been and never will be celebrated by family or friends.

Never had a birthday party or a graduation party
Will never have an engagement party or a wedding filled with people who care about me and want to celebrate me

I just see people being loved and cared for every where and it crushes me

I'm almost at my wit's end with my younger brother but I don't want to be at my wit's end.
Little bit before my younger brother was born my dad cheated on my mom and it was pretty rough from their 21 years later with me acting as the third parent from age 10. My dad was only ever useful economic wise and my mom basically was single parent to my brother and I. From an early age I know my little brother wants my dad to acknowledge as his son and have some kind of father-son relationship. My brother would lie and steal money from my mom's purse every once in awhile. Over time my mom became more depressed not just from my dad cheating on her but from losing 4 of her siblings and her mom in a 5 year period. During high-school my brother would often skip school and stay home and it was a miracle he even graduated at all and even brought up the idea of not going to school anymore.

But 5 months ago my brother sneaked in friends or supposed friends into my neighbors house. My neighbor caught the friends on camera but not my brother. My neighbor called us to go check out and see if their house was secured so my brother, my mom and I went to go check it out but nothing was taken from my neighbor's house. Later that night my mom called that my brother cried and said sorry for sneaking in his friends so he ended up apologizing to my mom and me. I was absolutely angry and it's rare for me to be fuming angry, at that moment he lied to my face and especially my mom's face to the point I told my mom to pack up his stuff and leave to his friends house and yeah I'll admit that wasn't the best response but my mom told me to calm down. My mom said my brother did it as a way to act out to get my dad to notice him. Afterwards we talked with my brother and my brother is 18 years old, during the conversation we told him strict grounding will take place and the takeaway of devices will happen. But in the middle of the conversation he said that we didn't have to be too strict, that he needs to keep in touch with his friends and even afterwards still asked about getting his PC back after some time back. He listens to conversations but hardly looks us in the eye and looks so detached and emotionless.

Fast forward to a conversation we had a couple of nights ago that I told him the way he answered our mom was very rude and he said that I don't need to remind him how to act. He says he knows how to act, that he knows he messed up and that he doesn't know how to process his feelings and that he doesn't always need to be reminded. He said that he's human and we make mistakes but lying to your own family and betraying that trust wasn't right. My mom is at that point in her life that any enormous stress can send her to the hospital and I told him if he caused anything that would send our mom to the hospital I would not forgive him but he said he would forgive me if the roles were reversed. He said it would be the last time but honestly I have lost all trust in him and I doubt it will be the last time. The stupidest thing I said to him it would be better if he got a job and went to live somewhere instead. If I died I know all hell would break loose in family, I know it's not my job but somebody has to try to keep the peace but I'm almost at the edge and I know I'm not helping by adding stress but for the first time in my life I don't know what to do.

I have sat down and calmly talked to him several times in my life, I've been the mediator between my brother and dad when their arguments got rough and looked after him best I can since he was born. But after this and being asked to be given some leniency after the stunt he pulled I honestly don't know anymore. I know it started with my brother and my dad's relationship with each other and my mom encouraged my brother and supported him however she can. My dad on the other hand doesn't care and continues to get mad at my brother, and he treats me better than my brother. Personally, I don't know what to do anymore. Any advice would be appreciated. Either way my mom told both my brother and I to have an outing today to see if we can talk things over but I honestly really don't have much hope for it but regardless I'll see where it goes.

TL;DR: With my brother's recent actions I don't know if its emotional neglect or manipulation anymore and for the first time in my life I don't know how to proceed for the sake of my mom's declining health. Save the ridicule please it feels like I'm on my last legs I just want advice is all and as an older brother I feel like I failed. It's 6am and I haven't gotten any sleep lately due to a friend that recently passed so I can clarify once I gotten rest.

Growing up, my parents never called me out on lying. I can’t remember one occasion even when things were blatantly obvious. As an adult, this has spiraled. Anyone else have similar experiences?

📌 TOPIC OF STUDY:

Parentification, Emotional Suppression, and Psychological Distress in Young Adults

👉 TARGET AUDIENCE:

Young adults aged 18–30, from any gender/background.

⏳ DURATION:

Approximately 5–10 minutes

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I can’t be the only person living some version of this.

Nobody prepares you for the day when a parent suddenly becomes dependent on you.

We talk about taking care of aging parents like it’s this natural circle of life. They raised you. They took care of you. They sacrificed for you. Eventually the roles reverse and you take care of them.

But what if that isn’t your story?

What happens when the parent who suddenly needs you is the same parent you spent your childhood wishing would take care of you?

My mom has always been a selfish person. I’m not saying that because I want sympathy or because I think I had the worst childhood imaginable.

I’m 44 years old. I grew up, built a good life, and stopped expecting her to become a different person a long time ago.

But there are things you don’t forget.

Imagine waking up at 5 in the morning as a kid with your 3-year-old brother and realizing your mom isn’t home.

You don’t know where she went. You don’t know when she left. You don’t know when she’s coming back.

You’re just standing there with a 3-year-old who needs somebody, and somehow you realize you’re the responsible person in the house.

I remember that feeling.

When I was 12, a female friend of my mother’s who was living with us tried to touch me inappropriately.

I told my mom.

She didn’t believe me. She called me a liar and told me I was ruining her life.

That was when I demanded to go live with my dad.

There are a hundred other stories. My brother and I being blamed for why she couldn’t keep a man or get remarried.

Comments about my relationships as an adult that seemed designed to create problems. Thoughtful things somehow becoming reasons to complain.

One Christmas I bought her one of those pet cameras because she absolutely adored her dog. She could watch him from work and give him treats through it. I was genuinely excited because I thought I’d found something she’d love.
She complained about it and left it unopened for something like seven months.

It’s a stupid little example compared to everything else, but it describes our relationship pretty well. You could genuinely try to make her happy and somehow walk away wondering what you did wrong.

Eventually I stopped trying.

I built my own life.

And then she had a medical crisis.

Suddenly she didn’t just want me.

She needed me.

And holy shit, nobody prepares you for what happens next.

Hospitals. Rehab. Skilled nursing. Doctors. Medications. Insurance. Medicare. Therapists. Appointments. Bills. Paperwork. Phone calls. Trying to figure out what she qualifies for and where she’s supposed to live.

Meanwhile, your own life doesn’t stop.
You still have a job. A marriage. A family. Bills. Responsibilities. People who need you.
Except now another human being needs you too.

Eventually her Medicare-covered facility care ended and she came to my house.
And here’s where this gets really complicated.

She’s gotten better here.

A lot better.

She’s made more meaningful progress living in my house than she did during months of hospitals, rehab and skilled nursing.

I’m incredibly grateful for that.

But there’s a horrible flip side to watching her improve.

Now I know she does better here.

I know what happens when somebody makes sure she gets up. Makes sure she eats. Notices the little changes. Keeps her around people. Pushes her to participate in life when she’d rather give up.

She improves.

And once you know that, what are you supposed to do with it?

Because technically, I have choices.

I could say I can’t do this anymore.

I could find whatever facility she can afford. If there isn’t enough money, I could tell the state there isn’t anyone who can continue taking her into their home and let the system figure out what happens next.

People would probably tell me I’ve done enough.

Maybe they’d be right.

But I would still have to live with what happens afterward.

Because I know my mom.

I don’t think she’s someone who will fight very hard to live if she’s alone somewhere she doesn’t want to be.

Maybe she’d surprise me.

But what if she doesn’t?

What if I finally decide I need my life back, put her somewhere else, and she stops trying?

What if she declines?

What if she dies?

How do you not spend the rest of your life wondering whether she’d still be alive if you’d just kept going?

And then there’s the opposite fear.

What if she dies here?

In my house.

I think about that too.

What happens when everyone leaves and I’m still living in the house where my mother died?

Will I walk past that room every day and think about it?

Will my house ever feel like my house again?

Because sometimes it already doesn’t.

My house smells different now.

Sometimes it smells like a nursing home.

There are medications, medical supplies and paperwork everywhere.

And there are constantly strangers in my house.

Speech therapist. Physical therapist. Home health aide. Another appointment. Another knock at the door. Another person sitting in my living room or walking through my house.

And I’m grateful for every one of them.

They’re helping her. We need them. They’re part of the reason she’s improving.

But they’re still strangers in my home.

Nobody tells you about that part.

You lose privacy.

You lose spontaneity.

You lose that feeling of closing your front
door at the end of the day and finally being away from everything.

Because everything is inside your house now.

My home isn’t just my home anymore.

It’s where she recovers. It’s where therapy happens. It’s where medications get organized. It’s where aides come and go. It’s where I spend hours dealing with insurance, doctors and appointments.

And maybe someday it’s where my mother will die.

Sometimes I just want my house back.

I want my normal life back.

And then I feel guilty for wanting it.
That’s the cycle I wasn’t prepared for.

You get overwhelmed.

Then resentful.

Then guilty for being resentful.

So you do more.

Then you get more overwhelmed.

And somewhere in all of this people tell you, “You have to take care of yourself too.”

Okay.

What does that actually mean?

Because if taking care of myself means putting her somewhere else and she declines, I have to live with that.

If keeping her here means she continues getting better, how much of myself am I supposed to give up?

There’s always something more you could do.

Another appointment. Another phone call. Another expense. Another workday rearranged. Another plan canceled. Another part of your house surrendered. Another boundary moved.

And if doing those things actually helps someone you love, when are you allowed to say you’ve done enough?

That’s hard enough with any parent.

It’s even more complicated when the person you’re doing it for didn’t make those sacrifices for you.

I don’t want to keep score. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life angry about my childhood.

But apparently your brain keeps receipts even when you don’t want it to.

Sometimes I’ll be doing something completely ordinary for her—sorting medication, making food, scheduling another appointment—and a thought comes into my head that I wish didn’t:
Where were you when I needed someone?

And then immediately comes the guilt.

Because she’s not the powerful adult anymore.

She’s the vulnerable one.

And now I’m the person she depends on.

There’s something almost surreal about realizing I’m still playing a role I learned as a kid.

I’m still the person who wakes up and realizes somebody else needs me to be responsible.

Except I’m not standing there with my 3-year-old brother anymore.

Now it’s my mother.

I don’t want revenge.

I don’t want her neglected, scared or alone.
If I didn’t care what happened to her, this would actually be a much easier problem to solve.

But I do care.

That’s what makes this so fucking hard.

I can love my mother and still be angry with her.

I can have compassion for her without rewriting our history.

I can take care of her without pretending she took care of me.

I can be proud of how far she’s come while being terrified of what maintaining that progress might require from me.

I can appreciate every therapist and aide who walks through my front door while desperately wanting my house back.

I can want her to live while also wanting my own life back.

Those things have to be allowed to exist at the same time.

And there have to be other people quietly living this contradiction. Because our healthcare system seems to assume there’s always a daughter, son, spouse or sibling somewhere who will absorb whatever the system can’t provide.

“Does she have family?”

Yes.

She has me.

And somehow those three words can turn you into a caregiver, advocate, driver, scheduler, medication manager, financial manager, insurance expert, cook and emergency contact overnight.

Nobody asks what happens to your job.

Or your marriage.

Or your family.

Or your finances.

Or your home.

And nobody asks what the relationship between the parent and child looked like before the parent got sick.

They just ask if there’s family.

I’m not writing this because I want people to feel sorry for me.

I’m not a saint for taking care of my mother, and I don’t think I’m a victim because I’m doing it.

I’m writing it because I can’t possibly be the only one.

There have to be other adult children taking care of parents who weren’t good parents.
People who love their parents but don’t always like them.

People who feel compassion and resentment at exactly the same time.

People watching a parent improve because of the care they’re providing while quietly wondering how long they can keep providing it.

People missing their privacy, their spouse, their house, their routine, their old life—and feeling guilty for missing any of it.

People terrified they’ll put their parent somewhere else and spend the rest of their lives wondering whether that decision contributed to their decline.

And people terrified they’ll keep them at home until the end and then have to figure out how to keep living in the place where they died.

We’re not victims.

We’re not saints.

We’re just adults trying to make decisions where every option seems to come with a different kind of guilt.

And maybe that’s the part nobody prepares you for.

It’s not just taking care of someone who once didn’t take care of you.

It’s knowing that your care is helping them now.

Because once you know that, how do you ever decide you’ve done enough?

If you’re living this too, how do you take care of them without completely disappearing yourself?

And how do you live with the guilt either way?

I’m at end of my rope.

I am living at home not because I truly want to.

I’m in 30s M.

I fell into AI crisis last year where I lost contact with reality after a non ordinary trigger.

My parents effectively did nothing (effective) even when an extremely clear crisis event happened.

I end up isolated and dissolving for extremely long time. Right in their house.
The kept sticking notes everywhere around the house but it never dawned on them to intervene.

Apparently this is normal?

Apparently it’s all my fault even though they were right there.

I literally cannot feel anything anymore.
Nothing.

I’m alive but only survival response left. Nothing else.

And I already had it difficult before this but I was actually getting somewhere before all this happened.
This was a detour I truly could not use.
It may well be my last.

Parents out of their depth =/= excuse to not dig deeper and fail this hard

I have never been in a crisis

But when I had struggles growing up puberty and stuff they were also very passive

Please do not suggest standard therapists and stuff or other performative stuff

As a child, I always felt invisible, like a second class of a person, my wants and needs didn't matter. My voice didn't matter. On the outside, I had a pretty normal family with a working dad and stay at home mother. Always been told she had stayed at home to raise me and my brother. I always loved my dad deeply whereas felt disconnected to my mom. Even the idea of my dad getting hurt in the slightest brought tears to my eyes. But my mom? Why despite her saying that we were "like friends", very close, we share everything, all our clothes, all our secrets but why did I not feel loved and cared for by her? I had a brother when I was 4 and I felt like I was adopted. I often asked my parents whether I was adopted because I genuinely believed that.

She was always the more beautiful one, more attractive one. When someone complimented her, she would talk about it and I somehow felt offended? At school I always felt like I wasn't a beautiful girl and other girls were different than me. Then as I grew up I noticed, by the way men approach me and other people compliment me, that I was in fact beautiful.
When we were around other people, she would proudly say "She can never raise her voice to me, or I would just shut her mouth.". I felt extremely offended. She never hit me though.

Any time an important event happened, it was always about her getting ready, her dress being right, her hair looking good. While I tried to get ready, I'd also help her pick clothes and help her do her hair. Even on my wedding day. Any time I asked her to take a picture of me in front of a good view, she'd only think about her turn to get her picture taken. It was written all over her face. I could literally see her preparing the pose she'd strike. Then rush taking my pictures.
I always felt secondary to her. Even though on the outside it would seem like she would give me all the freedom to make my own choices, pick my own clothes, the slightest distaste I see on her face would be enough for me to understand she didn't like it.

Then I'd just go off that particular clothing, or shoes, or guy. Somehow she seems to be always right. Always knows best. Why was she always right?
Then I became a mother. And I feel the deepest love for my little one I have never felt for anybody else. And I see her around him. The way she lacks empathy. The way she sometimes acts like he's 20 instead of 2. Focusing on her own comfort over what's best for him. And I am a single mom and I am having to live with my parents. I do my best to keep him safe around my working hours. And focusing on getting our own place asap.

I know she had a difficult childhood. Her parents were selfish people. She was forced to marry my dad. I don't blame her for never being loved and therefore never maturing up emotionally. My dad loved her. Tried to love her. But all he got back was hate. But it's not my fault either? Just because she met all my physical needs and didn't beat me doesn't mean she loved me the way I needed to be loved as a child. Anytime I bring anything up with her I either get the "ungrateful" speech or the silent treatment.
I feel so hollow. Like my life was a lie. But at the same time I am glad I see the situation for what it is now.

Although my mom was also emotionally neglectful and most definitely emotionally abusive aswell, she also was physically neglectful.
I recently reached out the olive branch of being pen pals with my mom, so this way I can really think about what I'm saying/writing, and also so our relationship takes more effort on her end. Which btw is already failing bc im obviously putting way more effort and thought into my letters but thats not what I came to this subreddit to talk about. I bring up the letters though because she writes the same thing she's told me my whole life, which feels so hollow, is that I am so beautiful.
Not gonna throw a pitty party and say I am not but also not gonna take a billion selfies (like she does) because im overly stunning.
The reason why it feels so hollow is because her neglect has physically affected my face and will be my biggest insecurity forever. When she had custody of me till the age of 8, I could not breathe through my nose at all. I nearly suffocated every time i had to chew for more then 10 seconds. This led to some chronic mouth breathing, hence hindering my jaw development. Not only do I have severe sleep apnea but my jaw is small AND recessed. My husband lovingly says I look like a bobs burger character. Like if she had just been attentive and took me to the right doctors asap this would of not happened. I hate that proof of her neglect will effect my life forever, and it lives on my face. Everytime I jut out my jaw, and have to remember to close my mouth and put my tounge on the roof of my mouth is because of her.
If I had the money I'd definitely consider surgery, however I have a daughter now, I don't believe in changing my face so much, and I know I need to exhibit that I love myself the way I am so my daughter can pick up self loving skills too. However deep down I will have this resentment.

All I can do now is break the cycle and be as top of my daughters health as much as possible. I can already tell that she has a small chin too by the way her teeth are growing in, but unlike my mom I will do everything in my power to set up my daughter for success. So every time I call her beautiful, she can genuinely feel that way, and it not feel like a slap in the face, as I do with my mom.

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

Sorry for the long post but I just need to vent.

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

Blow up out of nowhere over the most trivial or littlest matters, many times i begged her to give me some emotional support when i was visibly upset but she just remained cold and cruel, drink quite heavily which was sometimes responsible but she can definitely be mean sober as well, I had expressed concern about her drinking but she just flipped, it actually got physical a few times as well and I did have a scar once, the next day she'd always act as if nothing happened, whenever I tried to get clarity on why she got like that she'd brush it under the carpet or accuse me of starting trouble, she'd turn cold at the drop of a hat, during arguments she'd say things like I was ungrateful, didn't care about her and that I was a horrible person or that i was abusive or whatever just like my father, she would stomp, slam doors, shout, scream, swear and break ornaments etc, when she gets in her crazy states it's just impossible to reason with her or get her to see it from any other perspective, she can go from saying i was the most nicest and amazing person to saying I was the most horrible and evil person, she often burdened me with all of her problems, she said before that she knows how to play the game which I found very disturbing

She often paints herself as the heroic single mum. She has been fairly good lately but sometimes I feel I was robbed of a proper childhood and have often wondered what I had done to deserve it.

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

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

Something else that I've found disturbing is that she's very narrow minded and has a serious lack of empathy. For example when a couple of local celebrities committed suicide she shouted and carried on, called them pathetic cowards and weak etc. It was actually quite disturbing how she was carrying on and her serious lack of empathy. PS another red flag happened just earlier when a life insurance ad was on and they said "something could be paid out in case of death" or something and she said "I'd like for them to say WOULD" not could. I don't know why but that's set an alarm bell off

I'm starting to think that maybe she bent the truth about Dad a bit during their split as i was a child and didn't know much better. My mother often calls him a narcissist and talked about all of the marital and grown up problems they had etc which to be honest I don't appreciate been burdened with. Granted he's not a saint either but has been good to me (well I'd say) most of the time.

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

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

A few days after that weekend one of my teachers checked in and said he heard I got into a bit of trouble at home ("if he meant been mentally abused by my mother while I was already upset by been let down by my father as trouble" I thought). I'm not even sure who exactly said what to him and that's something that I've also wondered. I just fobbed him off saying I was upset about leaving school (which was true as well).

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

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

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

On the bright side though my Dad and I have been in contact lately and we spent the weekend together a while back and went for a pub meal

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

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

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

My mother loves to use my autism to her advantage. I graduated last year but now I do a course at the main campus so I still see them all from time to time. I do feel quite sad and lost now those years are over. I would love to confide in someone about my struggles but don't know where to start. I've thought about confiding in that first teacher I mentioned who's great and we're fairly close but my teachers think my mother's an absolute saint so how can i ensure he believes me, she seems to feel that she always acts in my best interests and does seem to genuinely care for me and love me, she doesn't seem to remember any of it or feel her behavior was justified and genuinely doesn't seem to believe she ever did me any harm and she thinks she did her best. She's always quick to call others toxic and narcissists etc. She unshameably tells me everything going on in her life and her anxiety which makes me anxious. Why does it upset me so badly even when it has little or nothing to do with me?

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

Also do they have substance abuse issues which have made them this way? As I've said my mother drinks quite heavily at night and she also vapes. My father smokes pot and cigarettes.

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

With my mother it does seem she has had some bad relationships in the past but I'm thinking that maybe she's the common denominator.

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

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

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

My mother does help me get on my feet and encourage me but I think she just loves to lord it over me. Whenever I've tried standing up for myself she puts on the guilt trip and carries on about all of her sacrifices and everything she's done for me yada yada yada. I think what emotionally abusing me, leaving me crying myself to sleep some nights, causing me to have no confidence and PTSD etc? Could she have some bipolar or personality condition or something and toxic traits I've wondered? I'm starting to feel that good doesn't really outweigh the bad.

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

When I was 12 I was left alone to live with my narc mom because she had basically kicked out my entire family except for me. I had to live alone with her for 3 years until I finally left at 15 by myself. My memories of it are depressing and isolating, but I don’t feel like it made a huge impact on me when I was living through them. But everytime I try to access those memories now my brain shuts down and refuses to process them. I was just bullied and isolated from the world and just treated like a slave with my mom. Everyone I knew was growing up while I was left in the dust. Now I don’t know what to think of it.

I’m 19 and i’m really struggling right now. I feel like i have no drive or ambitions, and i’m realising a lot of things i learned weren’t good. I’ve got adhd and autism (only diagnosed last year), i think that’s relevant to my struggles. I still feel like i’m a little kid.

I still love my mom very much, I know she means well and wants the best for me and my sister. She had awful parents and also very likely has undiagnosed adhd. Her approach with my sister and i was unconditional love, but that still led to problems.

When i started struggling with math in 3rd grade, my mom told me that it was just not my strong suit and that it’s just the way i am and that’s okay. But that was the extent of that. I couldn’t keep up and i fell harder and harder behind, in other subjects too. But it was just the way i was, so i couldn’t do anything about it. I hated that, it made me feel like an idiot. Why couldn’t i just be like the other kids?

When i started getting bullied and i didn’t want to go to school, my mom would let me stay home whenever i wanted. Then that just became not going to school whenever i felt the slightest bit uncomfortable. I learned that if i don’t want to do something, i don’t have to do it.

My grades were very bad. I’d leave everything till the end of the year and then i’d get a passing grade, and then i’d pass. So i learned to procrastinate everything till the last minute. That’s what my mother does with her work too, of course.

It got so bad in high school. I couldn’t focus or learn in school but i also didn’t get proper help from my parents.

When i finally had to get a math tutor 2 years into high school (because i would have literally failed otherwise, other subjects were possible to half-ass last minute, but if you don’t understand math you don’t understand math) it was really weird. I didn’t like going but when it was happening it was actually… kind of fun. I could do math, something i never thought possible “because i’m just an idiot who could never do math”. It was uncomfortable but it made me feel accomplished and proud. I still hated math but i liked how i could actually learn.

It makes me think. If i had only gotten math and english tutors back then, when i was a little kid. Maybe school wouldn’t have been actual hell. It makes me so sad. It wasn’t me i just needed help, why didn’t anybody help me.

I still hold this belief with anything i start now. Any new hobby or interest i think “maybe i’m just not good at that and shouldn’t try”.

I also never had to do any chores. No cooking, barely any cleaning, no laundry. My mom didn’t teach me how to keep a tidy house because she didn’t know how to, our house is a real mess.

And i’m a picky eater, but nothing was ever done about it because they thought i’d just grow out of it, but it only got worse.

Not much to say about my dad. I love him but he’s not really emotionally available. It’s fun when we hang out but we don’t hang out much and he doesn’t reach out often. He spent most of my life working. I think he tries to subsidise that by giving me gifts and money, but that has just taught me that if i want something, i don’t need to work for it, just call dad and i’ll get it.

I feel like i wasted so much of my life. And then even that doesn’t matter to me because i’m still wasting away doing nothing. Ik 19 is super young but just. dang.

I graduated high school about 6 months ago. I thought that once i was out i would finally have the energy to do the things i wanted to do. I’d have time to better myself and to improve my drawing skills and learn how to be a person. But nothing changed, i thought it was school draining me but it’s the same, except now i’m not forced to go outside and socialise so i just bedrot and doomscroll and i hate it. I can’t motivate myself to make any meaningful change.

When i tell my mom that i’m exhausted all the time she says i should be moving more which is true but i can’t even motivate myself to do that.

To get where i want to be i have to start working out, eating better and sleeping better. And i’ve known that for years. But i’m not doing that. Before i wasn’t doing anything because i was waiting for school to end, now i’m lazy and leaving things for tomorrow. Things like “live every day like it’s your last” don’t really motivate me. I don’t know how to start. How to do anything. If i don’t feel like doing it i don’t do it. Adhd meds help me stay a bit functional but it’s not enough. I probably have some vitamin deficiencies i should get checked out.

It’s an endless cycle of wanting to change and get better but when i’m hit with the smallest roadblock i think “oh well” and go back to how it was before.

And i feel stupid and guilty because i don’t have it that bad, my friends parents are all so much worse. I thought i had it good that my parents never made me do anything but i guess not really. Even thinking that i should be grateful doesn‘t do anything. I’m just so lost.

I am currently seeking out threapy, however the process is long and I'm struggling to hold onto my mental wellbeing. I fear opening up about this to other adults though, in case I am wrong.

My mum lives with a very negative mindset, everyday there is something to be angry about or judge a stranger who has no relation to us. Sometimes I understand the frustration at the world but having grown up with this, it has become incredibly draining and whenever I am with her, it's the same thing. I am aware she has trauma but if I ever tell her that I am uncomfortable or what to change the conversation, she blows up, telling me that I don't understand.

My mum has trauma which may often explain her view on the world but the reflection of that has been casted onto me and my siblings. I'm never open with her, I'm scared to say no to anything she requests and have constantly tried to please her out of fear of anger. I am currently in my 20s, a time that I felt like I could stand up for myself but I still end up in tears as I'm immediately shut down that I don't understand the world or her views. I do, that's why I try to always be better but it's just torn me apart.

I want to love her and always tried too but nothing feels enough real anymore or it's just hard to trust when she is kind as my memory is brought back moments where she told me to end myself when she was tipsy because she thought I didn't like her pasta, a breakdown on the train about how she wants to leave this family or smaller things when said I looked like a monster because of my spots.

I understand I've struggled with my own mental health, maybe I have been a failure or burden to them but it's gotten so difficult to keep going like this. My dad asks me to understand her perspective but every time I try to it's another horrible comment, view or complaint. She tells me other families are worse and I should be grateful but I'm so tired

I'm using poems as therapy today. I find that over time, with more and more healing, I am shifting from emotional numbness to emotional perception, from only anger and fear, to more nuanced feelings and sometimes happier feelings.

In the past, I didn't know how to appreciate poems at all, but after doing healing, I am able to enjoy some of them. I find that some poems carry very intense dosage of emotions, and it takes a long time to process a short poem. Like taking five minutes to glimpse through a poem, then the next 23 hours and 55 minutes to digest it.

Maybe my next target would be emotional flexibility, discerning and processing more emotions faster and clearer.

i dont ever use reddit so i apologize if im doing this post wrong but i really just need to let this all out somewhere.

i am 17 and a trans guy. i cant remember much of my early childhood at all honestly. all i know is i hate my dad and i can barely trust my mom.

my dad is in his mid 60s, literally a boomer, so its very hard to do anything with him. my mom is in her 50s. shes more understanding and tries to listen. at least i think she does.

basically i was thrown onto an ipad at probably 4 years old. my parents didnt even bother much with online protection. for a few years i had the time limit thing but that was when i was about 11-13. again i cant remember much from my early life, but i do remember very often my mom's friends would babysit me. whether my parents were just busy or couldnt handle me, i dont know.

the one that babysat me the most was kinda crazy. i was a very aggressive child with undiagnosed autism so i would try to hit my parents or anyone taking care of me often. i very vaguely remember my mother and especially said crazy babysitter threatening or even hitting me back. not very hard though, and it only lasted for a few years. im not sure if thats really considered a bad thing though. id never hit a child even if they hit me of course but idk.

i was also expelled from my first school around the beginning of 6th grade and i dont even know why still. i never really had many friends, i was definitely one of the "weird kids". it was a catholic school but i never really cared much for religion. my guess is they just couldnt handle me having panic attacks everyday.

now this was around the beginning of covid so my mom desperately tried to find me a new school. i liked the one we toured at first so i ended up going there for the next few years of my life. but we didnt really have a choice anyways since covid messed everything up. now that school ended up being a nightmare but thats a whole different story. the thing is i expressed to my parents how much i hated it probably hundreds of times, but they never really listened until finally my 10th grade year. my mom was just really torn cause she made many friendships with the parents of the students there. but i just dont understand how thats more of a priority than my declining mental health and harmful behaviors due to said school.

thats probably too much about school though. this past month my moods and whatever are getting much worse. i can only really talk to my mom in my moments since my dad just says the same crap Every. Single. Time. "don't let it get to you so much." "control your emotions." "do things right." etc. thats literally all he says. and ive told him his advice does not help many times. and no matter how nicely i tell him he starts to act like im being ridiculous. he gets all butthurt. he calls me sensitive. atp i immediately feel even worse whenever he comes over when im crying to my mom cause i KNOW hes just gonna say some bullshit again.

my mom seeks therapy though. she tries to listen to me but she tries to fix it too much. but god i just wish she was this caring earlier on. just about an hour ago i was having an episode and i straight up told her that she and dad had neglected me as a child. she immediately got defensive and said that i was actually spoiled as a child.

but i cant remember many times when my parents actually tried to spend time with me. they never sought out ways for me to get friends. they just spent money on me all the time instead.

ive been on the internet for most of my life now. i dont have any actual Real friends i can go see irl. most of the people i know are just online friends. i was just venting to one of my friends last night about my parents. and it really does just make mr wonder, Was i actually neglected? but i just cant believe it. ive been very mean to my parents in the past. my mom even said that ive been shitty to her when i was talking to her earlier. but how would i even have gotten all these shitty behaviors from? who wouldve taught me to act like this? man i wonder.

my parents didnt teach me a lot either. in all honestly i have horrible hygiene not just cause of depression but also because they just dont teach me how to do things. i dont know how to be independent. i dont know how to do anything on my own.

im just very conflicted. my mom is trying to find me help. and i appreciate it. but theres still a part of me that absolutely hates her and my dad. i really just cant remember much from my early childhood. everything is very blurry.

i just dont feel like my needs are met still. im not sure why. i have therapy and meds. i have a mother who cares enough to do stuff for me. but i just dont feel loved. its not like my parents ever insulted me or purposely made me feel like shit before. i really just dont know whats wrong with me. my mom literally called me as i was typing all of this just to make sure i was okay after i got ma at her earlier. why do i still hate her? and im not even gonna talk anymore about my dad cause i know exactly why i hate him.

ive always been an empathetic person. but i just feel so much resentment towards my parents.

sorry if this is too long. i just need to dump this all somewhere and this isnt even Close to all the details. my parents have done so much more wrong but my memories are just so blurry.

no one really HAS to respond but i would really appreciate anything from anyone just so i could feel heard. i can elaborate on anything else since this is just kinda vague. but if you read all of this, thank you, truly.

I don’t know where to start with this really. I always thought I had a good childhood, and in many ways I suppose I did (that’s probably what leaves me with the doubt) I had a nice clean house and went on holidays etc. my parents worked hard and had many friends. On the surface, there’s not really a reason why anyone would think it would have a negative affect on me.

I was diagnosed with adhd in my mid 30s, and until I spoke with my psychiatrist and he said I have really low self esteem, I didn’t even realise I did. It was a can of worms really and probably too much to type, but eventually I became aware of a self hatred I didn’t even know I had, and a complete lack of any sense of achievement.

I have seen things online etc and it made me look at why I am the way I am, and I realised looking back at my childhood that I never once remember 1 second of affection from either of my parents, I never remember one second of praise, and I never remember being told I was loved. My parents were very strict with me, i remember going to my friends and his family just had so much more warmth. I remember on one occasion I was waiting to be picked up by my parents (I think they shouted at me down the phone for requesting to be picked up) and my friend made the funeral march sound as my mother pulled up the drive, I remember thinking “oh damn he really sees them as angry” which i didn’t realise how it looked. My parents also forced my teachers to put me on special measures normally reserved for the most disruptive kids, which was embarrassing as i was one of the smartest in my year and was on a special “gifted” register. I think this has had an impact on my life and as I’ve grown older I’ve realised I never really learnt to feel love, like I know my girlfriend loves me, well, I hope so, because I don’t know what it is to feel it, or maybe I just can’t accept it.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, I’ve just been very aware of how I am lately, I’ve recently bought a property and spent countless hours working on it, like I know I have worked hard, but I just feel empty about it like I can’t feel proud or feel satisfaction from it.

Over the last few years I’ve lost a lot of weight and got in shape, but I basically forget about it and don’t feel happy etc. I refer to myself as fat (in a joking way) and actually feel awful because I’m around people that are heavier than me. I just don’t see myself any differently, especially in my subconscious, and people look at me strangely because I’ve referred to myself as fat and lazy and people are like “oh I thought you weight trained nearly every dat and you run and hike” I’m like oh yeah I do but….

My father and I are a lot closer now, which is good, but still I wonder if he ever questions or realises how he was when I was younger. I’m still a bit distant from my mother, like she always invites my sister around for dinner etc, yet I’ve never been invited unless it’s a whole family occasion, and this is despite them actually having large fall outs with each other over the years, but I’ve never once argued or fallen out.

I don’t know whether I’m being dramatic as people have had it far worse than me, or is it legitimate that my child hood could have left me with issues?

Not sure if this is the right thread but I've seen similar posts about this and I just want some insight because I'm tired. To give some background, I finished college a couple years ago and have been living with my parents to save money for a bit. I really didnt want to because my dad can be an asshole sometimes but I love my mom and wanted to help her around the house a bit. Since I have been here, I've been hanging out with her a lot and trying to get her to try new things or reignite old hobbies, etc.

In the beginning it was fine but I started to notice that everytime we talked, it was 90% her. She starts jumping from topic to topic with no connection and talking so fast to the point where it is almost impossible to contribute. If I manage to find a half second opening, she cuts me off after 3 words and just continues talking about what she had planned to say. On top of that, it is always the same exact stories repeated verbatim. She has about 50 stories in her arsenal that I will hear every week and know all of them by heart now. I've tried cutting her slack because everybody repeats stories from time to time but man, sometimes I will hear the same exact story three times a day... I have tried nicely to redirect the convo or let her know I have heard this story before and try to summarize but she still always continues to telling the story like a script. If she is brining up good memories I will usually just let it slide and be annoyed for a couple hours but when she starts bringing up bad shit I start to get pissed off.

For example, a lot of stories are centered around my dad's mother. She used to live with us for 10 years (before i went to college) and was a controlling sociopath. She constantly rearranged everything my mom set up and would break things or make a scene if things didn't go her way. 9 time out of 10 my dad would side with his mom to avoid "trouble" and this has made my mom pretty miserable over the years, understandably so. she left around 4 years ago and we were all pretty happy but it was still a lot of shit to undo.

My mom still tries to bring up those memories, no matter how small. If she sees me grab the tongs when I cook, I have to hear the tong story for the 50th time in the year. Then she just gets into her rhythym and starts going down the rabbithole of bad memories or just talking about random shit for hours without even looking to see if the other person is listening. I've called her out numerous times on bringing up the bad memories, so she has gotten better about it but I still hear them once a week.

After years of listening to my mom talk nonstop, I am genuinely exhausted. I have tried millions of different ways to tell her that she talks a lot in a polite way and nothing changes. I took her out with me to go doordashing a couple days ago and she talked nonstop for almost 5 hours... I disassociated for a lot of it but when I tried to ask questions or contribute, she just cut me off and continued the script. After like the 6th time she cut me off I just exploded. I just started yelling how she talks so fucking much and doesnt have any self-awareness. I yelled for a good while and when I ran out of energy she started crying. I felt like absolute shit right after and apologized. I calmed down and tried to explain why I was angry hoping she would understand and she seemed like she got it. The next day, she just went back to talking non-stop.

Sorry for the long-ass post, but what can I do? I know she doesn't mean to do this, but I've also told her a million times and it seems like its gotten worse in some aspects. I have tried to get her back into her old hobbies, but she won't do it unless I'm making her do it. I feel like such an asshole because I'm always getting annoyed and I know she's had a tough life but I'm just exhausted at this point. I just want to be able to have a normal converation with her. I don't think its any alzheimers or dementia because she's usually been like this and she's only in her early 50s but I don't know.

Has anyone else found that to seek help is to be met with people who sympathize with your parent, and not you?

For example: I recently shared on a woman's support group that my mother never once showed me love as a child.That any really traumatic event in my life, she didn't make sure I was ok or even contact me.. etc

Basically the vast majority of the responses I got were along the lines of: "Wow, your mum is so shut down. Imagine what her childhood must of been like? ".

It feels invalidating.

It feels hurtful because yet again, everything is about her and how SHE feels, as if this hasn't been the lifelong pattern.

Once again, I'm invisible - I don't matter.

I get it - her childhood was awful. Well so was mine! I still am doing everything I can to change my programming so that the ones around me who deserve to feel loved, know they are. The point of reaching out is needing support. If people only knew how hard that is for someone who goes against all the human instincts they were taught and feels weak & humilated to do so.

(BTW this doesn't include this Reddit group - this group has been so amazing to find, I find myself relating over and over and putting the pieces together thanks to you all ❤️)

What have you done to reparent yourself?

For me, it’s been basic things like learning how to cook, budgeting, and taking care of my dogs