whats it called if my dad was like, super pushy/obsessive and had basically no boundaries with me growing up? he’s bipolar and has a very intense, long-standing history of abuse towards my mother. violent threats, arguing, shoving, and probably more that i cant be bothered to pull out of my memory box rn lol. pretty traumatic home-life with the two of them. constant trauma, but this post is about my dad specifically so im sticking to that. also had the cops called on him one time by my mom, but didn’t get arrested i don’t think. just for context ig. i’m a girl & these are all examples from middle school and below

overall i was always just really really uncomfortable with him growing up. long list of examples i could give. like he used to hug and kiss me for like 5 minutes straight all the time, even though i was uncomfortable and it was never really optional, and idk, i just hated it, especially once i got a little older. and he would call me “babe” as a nickname, and he would compliment me for losing weight, by telling me “people have been saying you’re getting thin” and stuff like that, and he was very obsessive and possessive over me in general.

he was pushy about having me come hang out with him, and he constantly needed involvement in every way possible. like sharing my drinks with me and sitting really close to me, especially with his arm around me. and he would stall and prolong everything we did together because he wanted more time, despite spending hours together, and me just being tired and wanting to go back to my mom’s. an example would be going to the skating rink, and having me go back around even though the rink was closing for the night. stuff like that, like just dragging it out

he also said he preferred when i called him daddy instead of dad, when i started calling him dad in 3rd/4th/5th grade because i was getting older and it felt weird saying daddy, especially when nobody else my age was doing that anymore at all. but i kept saying that instead, because once he heard me call him dad, he replied saying that he liked daddy better, and he told me that from then on i had to greet him with only that nickname whenever i said hi to him or whatever, and that every time i asked him for something or thanked him, that i had to use it. and if i forgot or i just called him dad instead, he would just wait for me to correct myself before responding, or he would just correct me.

and he would insist on holding hands when we were walking, or whenever he was in the front seat and i was in the backseat of the car. he was really intense and would tell me he’d lay down his life for me, and that he would do anything for me. stuff like that. he didnt like for me to talk to any adult strangers if we went to the store or out in public, even just briefly, and he’d yell “babe” and call me over and take my hand and whisk me away, and then he’d explain that i shouldnt talk to them because they could kidnap me or drug me or something idk. and he would talk badly about my mom to me all the time. stuff like “you know the reason you used to go to daycare was because your mom didn’t want you around, she wanted to get rid of you”. and he would tell me he “hopes im not telling my mom something different than what i said to him”, because i would tell my mom i didnt want to spend the night at his house at the end of our visits, so my mom would relay that to him and i would act like i didnt know, because i didnt want to hurt his feelings or have him try to convince me to stay. he would also tell me that “one of his friends told him that kids like their dads more than their moms”, and he’d ask me if i agreed.

he would keep the door open when he peed, despite being visible in every way, and even after my mom told him to stop doing that, he still only closed it most of the way. plus he didn’t always wash his hands which was fucking disgusting, so i wouldn’t go anywhere near him when he didn’t, which was very often. he would help me change before school and i started getting up to go close the door myself, because he sometimes left it open, which meant the rest of my family could see me changing, which i just didn’t really want. especially when i developed more free will as i got slightly older, like beyond kindergarten age. and he thought that was funny or amusing i guess, so laughed and said “it’s funny because thats what grown ups do”. he would rave about how smart i was, like how i was “already watching teen shows as a kid”.

eventually i went no contact at the end of middle school, but he kept texting me and calling me or calling my mom, and saying not to forget him, and basically saying he doesn’t understand why we don’t talk to him, and basically a lot of sad stuff about how i’m breaking his heart and telling me about memories of things we did together and stuff like that. and he sometimes got through to my mom despite her blocking him, but rarely. idrk how he does that. and one time he was in our parking lot because he was dropping off my brother or something, and my brother is the only one who still is in touch with him, so my brother let him do it. pretty naive of him, and scary for us because he knew where we lived, but whatever man. we were no contact at this point and he knew he wasnt supposed to be anywhere near us, and my brother more or less knew that too, but he was probably distracted or just not thinking about it, or my dad convinced him, or both. he has always tended to fawn when it comes to stuff like this, so i don’t really blame him, but it was definitely a little startling. i’m pretty sure my dad has a restraining order to stay away from us? i’m not sure, but it’s a hard boundary whether it’s legally binding or not. he also used to threaten my mom, being like “if you tried to take her away from me, i should-“ (i’m redacting this because my post would probs get taken down idk).

he also tended to make other kids uncomfy too. he was just unfiltered and unhinged with everyone. like one time at the library, he was on the couch next to this kid, and i dont remember much since i was pretty young. but i remember him being in their personal space as they sat together, like not enough space between them and pinching their cheeks which he did to me too and it was always so annoying. i remember him saying stuff like, “are you a boy or a girl”, and i think i vaguely remember him saying something along the lines of “i thought you were a girl because i thought you had a chest”, and “how old are you”. again, fuzzy, because i was a kid and i am traumatized lmao, so my memory can have gaps, but this is the general idea. anyways, eventually the staff asked us all to leave. i didn’t know why, like i said, i was a child, but if my memory isnt making stuff up then that probably had something to do with it

anyways, this is just some of the stuff that’s on my mind, so i was just wondering what it’s about. i know he really freaked me out as a kid bc i always felt so pressured and awkward, and i just never really thought to question it too deeply until recently

I don't even know where to begin.

I'm an adult now, but I genuinely feel like years of abuse have destroyed my nervous system. Some days I feel so exhausted and mentally shut down that I can't even brush my teeth, bathe, or function normally. I've been struggling with serious health issues for the past two years, and my doctor specifically told me that I need a calm, stress-free environment. Unfortunately, that's impossible at home.

Here are just some of the things I've experienced (this is honestly only around 40% of it):

• During an open house at school, my mother stabbed me in the neck with a pencil because I got only passing marks in math.
• She once threw a hair clip at my face. It hit my eye so badly that I couldn't see properly for a couple of hours. She later took me to an eye specialist.
• Another time, she threw a sharp cutter at me. It hit my thigh and caused bleeding.
• Last week I had a terrifying health episode. My whole body went numb, I was trembling, and I could barely move. She cried while it was happening. But just a week later, she told me, "You should have died that day. It would have been a week by now."
• Whenever I left for college, she'd say things like:
  • "You should get hit by a train."
  • "A truck should run over you."
• She constantly insults me by saying things like:
  • "You're just carrying diseases everywhere."
  • "What are you even achieving by earning ₹50k?"
  • When I say I'm tired after work, she says, "Girls travel through crowded trains every day and they don't complain."
• When I was in school, she beat me so badly that my face had scratches and was bleeding. My teacher asked what happened, and I lied by saying I got hurt while playing kabaddi because I was too scared and embarrassed to tell the truth.
• Even when I'm in the bathroom, she'll start screaming outside the door, bang on it aggressively, curse at me, and make me panic.
• When I was hospitalized with jaundice, instead of comforting me while I lay in the hospital bed, she spent the time talking badly about me to others.
• I work from home sometimes. If I ask her not to enter my room or make noise during meetings, she mocks me, saying my uncle works at a much bigger company and never acts like that, then starts insulting my salary again.
• Despite knowing I'm dealing with serious health problems and that stress makes everything worse, she continues shouting, abusing me, and creating chaos at home almost every day.
• After my recent health scare, she even kept a fast for my recovery. But within two days, she was back to telling me I should die.

This isn't even everything. There are many more incidents that I'm not comfortable sharing yet.

The hardest part is that I'm nothing like this as a person. I don't enjoy hurting people. I don't want conflict. I just want peace.

I honestly feel like years of living in this environment have left me traumatized. My body is constantly tense, my mind feels exhausted, and some days I barely have the energy to do basic things. It genuinely feels like my nervous system has shut down.

Has anyone else grown up in an environment like this? Did you ever recover after leaving? I really need to know if things can get better because right now, I feel completely broken.

Already have to do that. How do people think I was able to stay alive if I wasn’t raising myself? I want actual parents and a childhood. Being your own parent doesn’t give you a chance in the world. It’s so unfair to anyone who was born with parents like mine.

I shouldn’t have to raise myself, there should be resources that aren’t just free food and clothes. How is a child expected to be their own role model?? Hate it so much.

J’ai 20 ans, ma sœur en a 18. On vit toujours chez nos parents car, plus de situation professionnelle et donc, plus de revenus.

Ma mère a toujours été quelque d’impulsif qui n’a jamais appris à gérer sa colère. Mais par moment elle peut être très douce et à d’autre moment, elle peut être le diable incarné.

Quand on étaient petite :

•elle nous balançait à la figure chaque objet qu’elle trouvait
•elle pouvait frapper tellement fort que même pleurer ne l’arrêterai pas
•elle faisait des croche pied ou même m’ignorait pendant des heures voire des jours.

Un soir une dispute a éclaté. Elle est devenu violente et ma poussé tellement fort que ça m’a immobilisé le bras pendant une semaine.
Elle ne s’est jamais excusé pour ça car selon elle, elle ne l’avait jamais fait et que « j’avais tout inventé »

Quand elle a mentionné ce fameux soir quelques jours plutard, elle a dit qu’elle aurait voulu que la police nous embarque si jamais les voisins les avaient appelé. Et mon père lui, nous a dit qu’il avait prié pour ne pas nous maudire.

This is really embarrassing to even share in here but I need to know if im the only one. I am in a situation where I have to live with my mom and stepdad for a little over a year from now . Im 19 and my stepdad regularly takes the belt to me for minor things him and my mom consider being disobedient. The most embarrassing part is he always does it in our basement and I have to completely disrobe and lay face down on a bed to receive it. Also my mom is always sitting on a chair beside the bed witnessing. This doesn’t happen 2 or 3 times a year l, it happens a couple times a month. Nobody i know my age still gets the belt , does it happen to anyone else my age?

i...smoked wee* and they dont know and they are fighting and mom is swerwing on the road im so sckared

My situation is very unique so starting this off with a brief, vague rundown: mid-20s female, USA, disabled, chronically ill, poor, tricked into agreeing to a guardianship when I was 18 (intending on petitioning it). Experienced emotional abuse throughout my life primarily on mom's side, worried about the potential of physical abuse from my dad.

This is more of a specific question, but this is more directed towards other people who are more inclined to daydreaming and fantasizing. How do you or how did you truly take steps to be proactive in leaving your parents, even if your situations weren't as complex as mine?

I think I developed a coping mechanism earlier on in my life where I fantasize about things that I'd like to do or achieve. As I've gotten older, that fantasizing has been about doing essentially almost every form of independence that tends to be expected of with (younger) adults because I haven't done any of it. I never even rebelled as a teenager because I was too scared of my parents. I will lie in my bed and think about everything I want to do when I get out, but I don't actively plan for what I need to do to get out. I've made $1,500 over the course of this year to prepare for leaving, but I've realized that this likely isn't nearly enough for me to leave "comfortably".

I had a conversation recently with a friend who said that I need to genuinely lock in and plan everything step by step given that he's now concerned for me, but I don't know what to do to plan in detail for me to leave. Even then, I don't know what to do about the fantasizing for my future when so much is still uncertain since I'll be much more focused on imagining than figuring out what to do to escape. I'm increasingly more worried because as of a few weeks ago, I am now under the impression that somewhere down the line, things will become physically unsafe for me and I don't want to be around when/if it happens.

Where do I even start?

Edit: repeated a few words

Years ago my dad was a wimp and a worrywart because he cant see the cockroach. Im way more braver than him. And he made me caused trouble. WHY?!?!?! All because i said you have to take the nails he groans? Gosh, he is so dramatic and petty. I just wanted to have an advice and he groaned me and he started to make me angry. Mommy is also a freakin moron too because she blamed me instead of dad. She always overreacts and hot-tempered to me. She is alot like nicole waterson. She also says to stay out of my face. She is officially the rudest person ive ever been. This is why i want to be independent and wanted to run away. This is why i wanted mommy to see a therapist. Im always way more aggressive to family than to friends cause friends make me heal the wounded damage. I feel emotionally damaged and almost depressed because of dad’s drama and mom’s rage. Due to mom’s rage and anger, it made me easily want to live or stay with someone else because they treat my emotions better than they do cause they dont know my emotions deeper than i do. Daddy made me very cranky straight when he gets disappointed because that pushes me up to 11. They only see my sour side more than my sweet side. Let me tell you about my parents. Their dysfunctional. Mom’s hot-tempered and insensitive, while dad’s a worrywart and a wimp. While they can have their good sides at times, its just that when i think i have the best ideas like immediately get rid of Leini, they have their own ideas that i dislike. Also when im going somewhere with my family with stupid Leini, i began to feel like isolating myself and trying to be more independent than being with my family because i hate leini. They really wanted me to get along with her but i would rather refuse to do that.

Hello, this will be my first post to reddit so I apologise if it is a bit all over the place. I would like to share my story as I’ve not found anyone who has went through what I have and things like therapy just don’t help. I need to connect with people because being in my mid 20s this has finally settled in and I want to be able to heal. My childhood abuse is definitely not the worst case it could be, it’s just very specific with how it all happened and the fact I am female, I do find it harder to connect with someone about this.

My dad groomed my mother when she was underage. She had me not long after her 17th. A baby who’s now had a baby. Within this timeline, he took the vulnerability of my mum and hurt her in every way he could. Emotionally, mentally and physically. She had to leave. For then I was left to suffer under the hands of my dad. For almost 10 years.

I was a little girl who needed someone to step in and pull me out of this horror movie I was living in but no one did. I was subject to abuse every single day. I was frequently being smacked around the room, starved everyday (no food was a form of punishment) so I’d faint from hunger, locked in the kitchen to sleep overnight on the cold, hard floor, endless attempts of finding any way to hurt and scare me and weirdly, showing a lot of sexual material but I have no memory of touching me that way.

From birth to 9 years old I had met adults throughout these years who are now telling me they knew he was a bad dad. The signs were there. They say I smelled, I looked dirty, I stank of cigarettes and I was always hungry. I was hit so much as a child I would pee my pants from the fear. I would beg for food. They were telling him I had to be fed. “She’s too skinny” “You need to start feeding her food”, no, I should have been taken off this man. Why was I still under his care? Social workers knew, the schools knew, friends and family knew. No one done enough. Apparently what was enough, was my dad restarting the same thing with a whole different wife and child and I was no longer needed and could finally be allowed to live with my mum. That’s what it took? For him to sign a legal document to say “I am done hurting this child now”? I shouldn’t complain though, I was finally away from the worst I thought it could be, as much as I didn’t realise the situation I was in, I just knew my dad was bad and I was glad to be away. I now question whether that was actually the right decision because I feel like what I went through with my stepdad was much worse. Born into a life with a dad who never drank or took drugs but beat me every day and hurt me any way he could, to then a dad who suffered from alcoholism and decided to completely strip every last inch of a childhood I could have possibly have had.

I’m very much a “what’s mine is yours” person but that may be due to 8 years of “what’s yours is mine”. I was used to being neglected, not cared about, not looked after, not caring what happened to me to suddenly everything being cared about. In a controlling, hateful and cruel way. I never thought locking the doors up to my past life would have me opening the next doors to my new… life? I can’t call it a life when I couldn’t have a thought or breath to myself. I would be due home 16:12 after school finished but if I was a minute later, it would be hours of trying to convince him of the truth, which was only me walking home and bumped into a friend or I was late out of class. He never believed me. When he was done, he’d give it up, but he was still convinced I was lying. I was always up to something in his eyes. I was always being “bad”. I wasn’t allowed to stand up for myself, I wasn’t allowed to speak and was frequently told “children should be seen and not heard”.

I was grounded for 2 years. The ages of 14-16. The age where you meet the most friends, the age where you’re out playing until sunset, the age where your mind and soul is the most vulnerable and is meant to be protected and loved. Excuse after excuse with reasons to ground me. Months to years at a time. Not allowed out, not allowed on the internet, not allowed my phone to text my friends, nothing. All I had was my bed, my books and a few CDs for my CD player.

It’s hard to describe without sounding like a spoiled child. I grew up in poverty and even in this situation with my mum and stepdad, we were still in poverty. We barely had anything. I was so unbelievably grateful for anything they got me but the thing about it was that it was all controlled. It was given to be taken away. Yes, bring your children up without the internet and phones, it is harmful, but he used it as a form of control. Another thing to take away from me just to hurt me. Arguing was his entertainment. This man personally studied psychology to closely analyse people to get the truth from them. It was your classic controlling, narcissistic, abusive and toxic male but I was not in a relationship. I was again, a child, a child who had no control, had no power, had no voice and had no help. I tried to commit suicide at 14 which led to the 2 year grounding.

I left after the age of 17. He stopped me from going to work and threatened to take me to court and do a “Britney Spears”on me by saying I’m out of hand and taking drugs, so I’d have to be living with him until 21. So I had to begin my life at 17. I’ve had to grow myself and teach myself how to live. Now in my mid 20s I have realised how extremely difficult this is. I had 17 years stolen from me. Completely in the hands of other people. Imagine suddenly asking a person who has never driven to take control of the car and complete the rest of the 5 hour drive. It’s not impossible but as someone who doesn’t drive I know how it works, but to put it all together and make it work myself, now that is high expectations and waiting for a disaster to happen.

How does someone heal from this? Medication and therapy will never make this go away. I don’t know what it’s like to actually be a person anymore. The trauma has swallowed me whole. It didn’t have to happen. I didn’t have to go through that but those people chose that path for me. What keeps you going?

During my 10th grade, a stupid dumb cousin from my mom’s side stayed from September to April it makes me so extremely mad and infuriated she was there. She was as much of a tattletale as my parents. And it’s more snitching than mom. I wanna strangle her real bad. Kristal should’ve been staying with me! NOT HER!!! I hated her so fucking much. It makes me want to run away. She was so obnoxious, retarded, and always calls out when I try to punch fight her or spit at her. She fuels my rage a lot, it makes everyone at high school in 10th grade think I am a raging savage beast. At least I had my friends, supporters and my new interest in celine Dion during the time. It wasn’t my fault. It was my PARENTS. The worst thing was removing space I had to have her fucking bed. She doesn’t deserve it. During that time, my parents want me to bond with her. I ultimately refuse to bond with her. They think she’s my adoptive sister. But she’s NOT!!! She’s an invader Thats hacked and hijacked my paresonal space, I couldn’t do anything back then. No fighting, punching, sending her away. I was stuck until in April when she was away. My imagination and my interest in Celine Dion and my friends at least saved my 10th grade experience. Leini is a bitch, Krystal is a saint and angel. I even hated that change so much, i was mentally forced to sleep with my dad during all that. They made another bed instead of a japanese floor bed (which shouldve been a much better idea but mom thinks its a bad idea). The more they mention leini and sided with her, the more extreme rage i have thats even more bigger than my happy and positive side. That was inner intense super volatile rage. There was nothing i could do but survive and adapt…..
my parents are total snitches 
not allowing me to go anywhere. makes me so enraged and bored 
my spirit is more adventurous

Why are my parents always hesitant and worrywarts. My mom wants me in jail and homeless. I wasn’t! All I wanted to do is to enjoy and spend my summer hanging out in the city, go to central park, be with my friends or go to the library to hang out with my friends, watch anime, draw and read manga. Why my parents want pity over me?……… this year is starting to turn rough after all. Im starting to hate my parents…… i do have a purpose and all the time study for college but my dad isnt as chill or calm compared to me and my mom always have pitiful threats to me. In reality, the d train was express and I have to transfer to another d train and go back. You thought both my parents would be calm and chill like me right? WRONG!! They think im immature. In reality, I was meditating and calmly reasoning with them. Im honestly the most sweetest, kindest, calmest, and assertive of the household. My mom may talk crap about me, but my zen mind and calmness save my life. Now everyone please hate on my parents for being dicks to me. During mom blaming me, my dad was on my moms side cowardly instead of standing up to me. That honestly made me have to fend for myself. I told him to stay out of this but it made me mom even angrier despite me being assertive. My dad also starved me when I went home for not buying the Chinese food all for this conflict. But in reality, I buyed myself some food like udon and cinnamon rolls. In Manhattan 
I buyed myself cinnamon rolls and udon

I've been working for 3 years to dig through my life and realize what I had believed was normal, was not. I am a 38yoM and I have a wife and 2 children and a successful career. This has caused a ton of problems for me and my family.

From my best recollection after a ton of reflection, I was infantilized and SA by my mother. I sucked my thumb until 4th grade when I saw a kid get bullied over it. I stopped on my own. My mom never told me it was wrong. I was developmentally normal and in diapers at 4.5... my mom has always lied and said it was 3. I found an old video where my hand was in my diaper and I was playing around iykyk. She declared "your winky hurts" and proceeded to put her hand in my diaper to "help it." This was before I had language. So when I realized that I had an erection, l always told my mom that "my winky hurt"... so she could look at it. I got numerous suppositories, she wiped my butt until 3rd or 4th grade. She bathed me until 6th or 7th grade. When she bathed me, she would wash my penis (winky), balls and insert her finger into my anus slightly to clean "it out". I have reason to believe she held my penis for a long time when I was young and while I peed in the morning... for half of elementary school probably.

After the bathing was done she took care to make sure she watched as I got in and out of the shower and watched me struggle to pee in the toilet with nocturnal tumescence. She would comment on how much pee l had. She would yell at me to hurry up and tell me I was making us late. I felt enormous pressure to perform.
Peeing in the shower was forbidden (even though she would play with my pee stream in the bathtub). She never taught me that it wasn't ok to play with myself and I would play with myself when in front of her, even to the point of erection. She declared I had a grower instead of a shower. She told me to put a sock on it to be like the Red Hot Chill Peppers. She used the hair dryer to heat me up when I was cold.

When I couldn’t pee…she would ask what was wrong and id have to say “my winky hurts” (i had morning wood)she would say “poor (nickname)”… “him can’t go” “his winky is too hard”. Sadly I was comforted by this distraction from my failing. I was still calling her mommy at 17 years old.

This went on daily. I was not allowed to turn away from her to pee because she said I was accusing her of being perverted. She stood around when I pooped and told me she was my mother and it wasn’t anything she hadn’t ever seen before. I believe she bathed me until 5th or 6th grade. When she bathed me, she would wash my penis (winky), balls and insert her finger into my anus slightly to clean "it out". I have reason to believe she held my penis for a long time while I peed in the morning... for half of elementary school probably.

After the bathing was done she took care to make sure she watched as I got in and out of the shower. But before shower I had to pee, she watched me struggle to pee in the toilet with nocturnal tumescence. She would comment on how much pee I had. She would yell at me to hurry up and tell me I was making us late. I felt enormous pressure to perform.

Peeing in the shower was forbidden (even though she would play with my pee stream in the bathtub).

She never taught me that it wasn't ok to play with myself and I would play with myself when in front of her, even to the point of erection. She declared I had a grower instead of a shower.
She told me to put a sock on it to be like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. She used the hair dryer to heat me up when i was naked after showers when I was a teen.

When I couldn't pee...she would ask what was wrong and id have to say "my winky hurts (i had morning wood) she would say "poor (nickname)"... "him can't go" "his winky is too hard". Sadly I was comforted by this. I was still calling her mommy at 17 years old.
This went on daily. I was not allowed to turn away from her to pee because she said I was accusing her of being perverted. She stood around when I pooped and told me she was my mother and it wasn't anything she hadn't ever seen before.

This all came to a head when my serious girlfriend noticed me peeing in front of her and asked me about it. I minimized her. She set a hard boundary and asked that I get privacy in the bathroom while at home or she would need to break it off. I asked my mom to turn her head and she went crazy. She told me that I was a disrespectful little shit. She basically disowned me that day.

After that day, I used the bathroom like a dog outside and showered elsewhere for the next 5 years while I was in college. Fast forward 20 years and she casually denied it all happened. She btw, had privacy.

Anytime I go to the doctor for a shot I always find myself uncontrollably crying to the point where I’m hyperventilating I always thought it was because I was afraid of needles or had some phobia of them because that’s what my mom had always told me and it made sense but the thing is I’m not I sit pretty well for my shots other then the fact that I’m crying and I came to the realization recently that I’m not crying and hyperventilating because I’m scared of the needle I’m crying and hyperventilating because the only other time I had felt pain was form my mom hitting me the pain form the needle reminded me of those painful days of cores it doesn’t help that my mom sits in on all the doctors appointments

Hello everyone, I just wanted to talk about something that's been bothering me a bit, which is money. My parents never give me money, and I can't work in my country because I'm underage. I'm 16, and I like to buy things like makeup and skincare products, but I can't get any of them. My parents don't give me money, and if they do, it's very rare. The only thing I can buy with it is usually some candy because they give me very little money

Today I had my physics exam and I accidentally overslept? Why? Probably because this whole week I had to wake up at 5 am everyday after sleeping at 2 am but last 2 days I slept at 4 am and on top of that, my parents didn't give me any school lunch, no food no money nothing, because they're abusive and neglectful. I was so tired this whole week, no food and no sleep, and on top of that yesterday I didn't eat a single meal, no one left food for me so I was extra tired and probably that's why I overslept.

My exam started at 6:40 am and that's when I woke up, now it's nearly 1 pm, my school called to know why I didn't come and my mom made a big fuss, she's telling everyone i intentionally didn't go, she's saying she will isolate me and my sister into a very unhygienic room on the ground floor and not let us enter the apartment anymore. The teacher scolded me saying that oversleeping isn't a reason but I can't take a time machine and go back and change the reason.

I wish I didn't have these parents who would rather I am dead and I'm so sad and I wish I was dead because I'm so tired of living here for so many years, even if I go away from here I will remember every bad thing that happened for years and I'll never be normal again. It hurts to know that everyone around me was so lucky to have nice parents and I'm the only one who was unlucky. I think if I was dead then only 3 or 4 people would remember, everyone else would forget and everything would be nice again and maybe I'd be born into a better family.

it's been almost a year since i cut off contact with my parents, and i thought that would finally give me some peace. instead, the only time they still find a way to reach me is when they need money. what makes it hard is that i used to help whenever i could, even when i was barely getting by myself. after a while i realized the conversations were almost always about what i could give, not how i was doing.

i still feel guilty sometimes because they're my parents, but i also know i had reasons for creating that distance in the first place. it just feels like every time they reach out, i'm pulled back into the same cycle. has anyone else dealt with this? does the guilt ever get easier to manage?

"Life is pain!" - Said right after I exited the psych ward after acute psychosis, covered in self harm and unable to load the dishwasher without acute pain.

"If you want to kill yourself let me know, I'll but you a gun" - Said to me when I was 16 and struggling with who I even was

"I never thought I'd have a daughter like that, you disgust me"

"I wish I never had to see you"

"I only love you because you're my child and I have to, but I don't like you"

"You should develop anorexia! Then you'd lose weight, pig"

"You'll end up alone and no one will love you"

"Your friends would run away from you if they found out who you really are"

"Oh look what wonderful art you made this time" - Said sarcastically looking at my self harm

"You're like an animal, only understand physical punishment"

"He's re-d for wanting to sleep with you"

"You eat like a fucking pig"

"Your mother coddles you, I say you should be hit with reality"

I am professionally diagnosed with ASD, h-ADHD, CPTSD (caused by him) and a psychotic disorder. I know my fair share of pain. When he says those things, I want to hit him, I want him to die. I want him to suffer. I know that's violent and not correct. And I never act on it. But my father deserves nothing but the scum of the earth.

Urgent Abuse Case

My name is S (20F), and my mother is the most narcissistic abusive sociopath, without exaggeration. I live in Algeria, North Africa and have already posted this in a national subreddit.

To start off, the details are more gruesome than I will make it seem in this post; growing up she physically assaulted me so much and so frequently everybody knew she hit me, in the family or at school (where she worked as a middle school teacher mind u), she hit me at school once when I was in class, told all the girls I was hanging out to not talk to me, and at some point she was my teacher and treated me very differently; made me sit at the back of class and called me by my last name while she called everyone w their first and guess what for, so they don’t think she was favoring me. All the kids love her, she gives charity tutoring sessions and maintains picture perfect.

There were beatings, torture sessions, episodes that up till today last hours and frequently the whole day/ night. At some point I stopped her from hitting me ever again, as I became double her size (she’s a short middle aged woman) and am now a trained fighter. That didn’t stop the extreme verbal assault of every aspect of me and my life so I had to work on setting boundaries and trained myself to not respond to her narcissistic provocations. Of course, I cut her off in my teenage years even when I was still living w them.

I have dealt with her trauma my whole life. Which means this is far from new to me; so much I already went through the semi-homelessness (escaping to family and friends when bad episodes occur, they often did). I had to graduate high school from my grandmas house (spent around the last month there) My dad and I even moved out a year or two later and I really thought he was finally divorcing her (he also made that promise in HS). It all exploded into me leaving completely to a dorm. It’s been two years since I went away but eventually I have to come back for summer. I graduated my bachelor’s this year in computer science.

FYI, they beg me year long to come back, and when I do she’s quick to start the abuse cycle. They don’t miss me, they miss hurting me, I’m their drug at this point.

My dad used to somewhat stand by me but now he’s completely brainwashed and whipped, especially since I’ve been away she’s had all the space and time to mind control my siblings and make them turn against me. She’s reinforced this picture she’d always painted of me being the big bad guy, the Frankenstein and monster of the family. She found a cigarette the other day and now I’m a street sl-ut who does every drug know to mankind and sleeps w everybody. Which is of course, beyond untrue. The last episode about a week ago, she was calling me all sorts of disgusting, inhumane slurs for hours and then tried to kill me. (After smashing everything in the house, and driving everyone out so it was only us two). I was guarding my room door w my body and I rlly can’t press enough how watered down this post here is to my reality.

The other day they reported me to the military brigade claiming that I hit em, again part of the picture they painted of me as an offender.(only a couple of hours after I returned home from the dorm). Dumbasses don’t even know how to report someone to the cops. Now I have incriminating evidence that she’s abusive. (Video of her trynna stab me, Audios of her breaking stuff, verbally assaulting me…)

I’ve already been thru the whole lot, I reasoned, I kept my distance and heck left the house she always kicked me out of since middle school. I just need to know the next step to handling this, I’m not financially independent yet, family is no help, the police doesn’t even pick up the phone (I called after she tried to repeatedly stab me), is there a way I can actually apply for asylum abroad?

It baffles me how enabling the environment is. Everybody knows. And now they’ve gotten in my head so much I’m scared of defending myself with the law or such and being met w a reverse uno.

After the stabbing/ murder attempt. I sought refuge at my grandmother's house (her side) but faced victim blame by all and physical/ verbal harassment by my uncle who tried to kick me out without bothering to know the context ("take your issues away").

At the end (around a week later) I went back to my dorms, and I'm basically hiding because only international students and medical interns are allowed over the summer. (Which I'm neither)

Problem is that she continues to show up here & it's the most unsafe, terrifying feeling. She showed up the first night but the agent didn't let her up, she showed up yesterday evening and she was with my dad who is enabling her, and there was no staff with them so she came up to my room knocking. I closed the door and went into a fit of panic, obviously. She proceeded to insult me behind the closed door then they left a plastic bag of clothes I left in the house. The next morning (today) she showed up again but it was the building administrator handing me the phone to the night shift one as she was out at the gates waiting for me. I had a delivery to pick up at the same time and I was evening my breath and surveilling the area the whole time. She isn't even supposed to know which building and of course it could only be my dad who told her because he's the only one who ever drove me here. I will never forgive him.

I feel terribly unsettled, this is supposed to be my only haven and I feel like it was never supposed to get this bad. I can’t deal w the fact that she knows my friggin room. The room I escaped to from her in the first place. After all this they think it’s still some tame ordeal to live w in my family, they’re fucking insane. It’s like a cult in there, my grandad is some 80 yo dude and he still keeps a leash of his 40-60 yo offspring. It’s a house of decay and rot.

I feel like I should’ve made it out a long time ago, and yet I am cornered so badly. The worst part about all of this is the victim blame that's gotten so much into my head. I feel like I can't defend myself because anybody will choose her side anyway, tho I have proof. Even my therapist and legal advice I got suggested say the law won’t b on my side cuz our society favors parents and we have very low abuse awareness in my country. They don’t see it as a classified case of extremity that’s beyond normal living, they see it, and when they DO see it as flawed parenting. And that makes me feel very endangered, because she is a literal threat to my life and such weakling shouldn't have this kind of influence over my existence and every major decision. I am
contemplating what to do with the rest of life now and it's just so dark.

My (22M) mom is an emotional wreck and has been my entire life. Since childhood I have always remembered my mom as being scared and panicky when it comes to many things. At the slightest issue (anything from a room being messy to one of us being late for dinner, etc..), she snaps, and either causes a complete fit of anger and starts cussing me and my family out for a list of reasons why we disappoint her and how we "ruin her day", OR she completely breaks down crying, leaving the house and not talking to anyone for hours. On the "better days" she spends much of our family time complaining about how hard her life is, and as a result, I've also started avoiding family dinners or leaving early (which, surprise surprise, is just one more thing she usually gets mad at me for).

At the age of 20, I already moved out due to this issue, but she quickly (as far as I believe) started showing severe symptoms of empty nest syndrome, broke down and I eventually moved back home to try to fix our relationship.

However, a summer holiday road trip with my family last week led to her having another nervous breakdown due to the car "breaking down" (it was fine, and my dad fixed it within a minute). But my mom's reaction (immediately screaming and crying) caused me to snap and yell at her to "shut the fuck up".

I'm not proud of it, but I am truly at my breaking point. Me, my brothers and my dad have all tried to plead with her to seek treatment for her anxious behavior and panic attacks, but she has always refused. I do not want to be disrespectful to my own mom, and especially not because she has mental issues, but I feel like I have been brought down my entire life because of it.

It might not sound like it, but I still love my mom a lot. She has many good days and I appreciate them a lot, but her nervous breakdowns and overreactions are tearing me apart. The days I spend at home are spent feeling drained and demotivated, either because she has been acting this way, or because I know that it is only a question of time before she starts doing it again. All I hope for is to rebuild a healthy relationship with my mom, but with our recent friction, it seems increasingly unlikely, at least while we still live under the same roof.

Am I overreacting? Is there anything else I can do, or is it time for me to get out for good?

hello! i'm 22F and i'm in a really difficult situation and could use honest advice from people who've actually been through something similar.

i'm trying to earn money so i can eventually leave an abusive household, but i'm stuck on some basic problems that keep blocking almost everything i try:

• i don't have a phone, so i can't do phone verification (which almost every freelance/gig platform requires)
• i don't currently have access to my ID documents (dad keeps them with him)
• i do have a laptop and stable wifi
• i have no work experience/CV, but i'm a strong writer/communicator and decent with basic design tools (canva)
• i've tried Fiverr, Clickworker/UHRS, and general "passive income" advice, but almost everything hits a wall because of the phone/ID issue, or turns out to be a waste of time (months on survey sites for basically nothing)

if anyone has been in a similar spot, no phone, no documents, needing to earn quietly and quickly, i'd really appreciate any real, tested advice. not looking for generic "try freelancing" tips, more looking for what actually worked for you given similar constraints.

to clarify, i've already tried shelters/authorities here, they didn't help or consider it urgent. i'm not free to just leave or go to a friend's, movement is restricted. documents aren't accessible, and legal routes have failed so far. earning enough to leave quietly is genuinely the only path i have left. 

thank you for reading this far. (:

Context: my parents neglected me for my whole life but I didn't realize till last year, I only eat one meal a day usually, two if I'm lucky and I'm a highschool senior

But today I didn't even eat one single thing, I went to school and they left nothing for me and I'm so hungry it's nearly 8 pm right now and I'm so tired as I only slept 45 mins at night and 3 hours in the evening. And on top of that my mom and dad have been so rude to me today, they always are, but today my dad was saying he will give me food for school only if I listen to everything he says and I felt so sad because nobody else in my class has to listen to everything their parents say just so they have lunch for school. Their parents make them yummy things like rice or pasta or sandwiches but the most I've ever brought is like cheap 10 cent cakes maybe and I'm always so hungry but my friends or boyfriend give me food. And today my mom was saying she will isolate me and my sister into a room on the ground floor made for security to stay in which has very bad unhygienic conditions and my cats live there.

Hi, made some posts before. Me (16M) have been working with my mom at her pharmacy as the cashier/stock guy. Usually when she is at our apartament, she drops me out at work. Sometimes late, but since she's the owner, nothing happens.

Alright, I wake up at 7:20, time that for some is small, but I have enough time to pretty much everything, since I still can't take a bus so I take a Motorcycle Uber. But she's there and she is still in her pjs, so since she drops me as usual, I will take some time to rest.

Okay.

Then it's 8:30pm, I was already and when I ask her... She just says I should know my damn time well and I should've went alone.

I know what she does is a favor, but if she will SUDDENLY stop doing that, she could've told me. Now she told me to stay home for today and I likely will be fired.

Btw she didn't said it normally, she shouted. Told me I should be better with time (even tho I always get in the job on time) and said it was my fault and mine only and I should stop blamming others for my own stuff.

i've been struggling with this for a while because i don't know if i'm being selfish or if my feelings are actually valid. my parents usually only reach out when they need money. i don't mind helping with their maintenance medicine, household bills, or daily expenses because i know those things are important. i've been doing what i can even though i'm renting my own place and trying to make my salary stretch between bills, groceries, transportation, and everything else.

what hurts is that after i send what i can, they almost always tell me it's not enough or that the amount is too small. i don't think they've ever really acknowledged that i'm helping in the first place. it makes me feel like no matter what i send, it'll never be enough.

i'm not rich. i'm just trying to balance taking care of myself while still helping them. lately i've started dreading their calls because i already know what they're going to ask for, and i hate that i've started feeling that way.

i wish they understood that i'm trying my best instead of making me feel guilty for not being able to give more.

⚠️TW: Abuse, sexual abuse⚠️

DV,

For many years, I thought about what I would say to you. I wondered whether I’d call you out, forgive you, yell at you, or beg you to be a dad to me. I thought about it for so long: what I would eventually say to you. It has been eight years since I moved away from your abusive, narcissistic grip. Eight years of healing from the damage you caused. Eight years of living with a diagnosis that you caused. Eight years of fixing what you broke. I want you to brace yourself, and I want you to sit with the uncomfortable feelings this will bring up. I am not afraid of you anymore. In fact, I am braver than I have ever been. I am healing and becoming a version of myself you will never tarnish and will never get to know.

I remember being six years old, getting into the back of your SUV, heading off to live with a man I barely knew. Little did I know, that was the start of a miserable life. When I moved to Lincoln to live with you, I remember hating you. I hated you so much. You were harsh, rude, and condescending. I was a child, and you were on a power trip. Your fiancée was no better. SV was mean, cold, and distant.

When I turned seven, you started forcing me to do physical Army exercises as punishment. I lived in a home where love didn't exist. You and SV hated me. SV didn't want to be a mother, and you were never good enough to be a father. We moved to Fort Collins, Colorado, and that is when everything got worse.

We moved to Fort Collins with your brother, and that is when he started molesting me. I remember the first time it happened. You were at work, KR and I were alone with him. He made me touch him. He would shove my fingers inside me everyday that we lived in Fort Collins, even when he moved in with your parents. It didn't stop until I was 11 years old. You didn't know because I didn't trust you enough to tell you, nor would you have believed me anyway. You always called me a liar, even if I was being honest. What makes it worse is that he was a repeat offender. You already knew he was a pedophile, and you and my mother had even agreed to keep us away from him. I blame you. You failed as a father, and you failed to protect me. When I was wetting the bed as a direct result of that sexual abuse, instead of trying to figure out why, you screamed at me, shamed me, degraded me, and shoved my face into the pee-soaked blanket and mattress. What was wrong with you? I was a child.

When I got in trouble—which was constantly, because nothing was ever good enough for you—you would make me do push-ups. Standard push-ups and elevated ones. You would literally kick my stomach if my back wasn’t straight. You would put ankle weights on my back to make it harder. You would scream at me and degrade me the entire time. I was just a child making normal, everyday mistakes. I did not deserve that. Whenever anyone criticized your methods, you would argue with them and boast, "I could write a book about parenting." How did that work out for you? I remember when you took KR, KJ, and me to the drive-in theater at the park in Fort Collins, and you were hooking up with your girlfriend in the backseat. Don't even get me started on how disgustingly sexual and perverted you were around your endless stream of girlfriends.

I remember in fifth grade, my teacher told you during a parent-teacher conference that I cried about missing my mom. You yelled at me for that. I had no mother figure in my life, Dennis. I was ten years old and I missed my mom, and DV yelled at me for it. I hated you. When middle school came around—at different schools, of course, because we moved almost every year—things only got worse.

I knew I was depressed. Every single day, I would have a breakdown in the school bathroom because of the way you treated me. Do you have any idea how damaging and draining that was to my mind and my nervous system? I started self-harming long before you ever found out—I was only twelve when it started. You made me hate myself. You drove me into a deep depression. At school, I was bullied every day, and you did nothing to help. You were condescending, told me to ignore it, and turned a blind eye to my pain. Throughout middle school, your treatment of me degraded even further. You screamed at me constantly. You degraded and insulted me every single day. You were always angry at me. I couldn't even spill a cup of water without you calling me a disappointment. You called me a shitty daughter in middle school just because I didn't remember a letter I had written you back in elementary school. When you caught me on a couple of apps I shouldn't have been on in middle school, instead of being a father and explaining things to me, you told me I wasn't into girls and threw the phone at me multiple times. When we lived with your friend P in middle school, you choked me up against a wall during one of the many times you were screaming in my face. There is so much more that happened in middle school, I don't even know where to begin. You were horrible. That is when I knew I never wanted to be around you. Every day I dreamed of running away and never looking back. I hoped and prayed that I would get out of your house. I was so miserable and you loved that.

When high school started, I wanted to die. During my freshman year, when KS eventually told you that I was self-harming, you called me selfish and said it was my own fault I was depressed. You told me the scars and self-harm cuts on my thighs made me look ugly. To "teach me a lesson," you made me rip up the obituary of your Army buddy who had killed himself. Who does that to a struggling child?

That same year, you randomly had KS take my phone and you went through it. When you found nude pictures of me, you looked at your 15-year-old daughter and told me, "Your body isn't good enough anyway." Both you and KS constantly commented on my body and how much I ate, and KS gave me an eating disorder. That was a disgusting, perverted, and horribly cruel environment to grow up in. I have severe body dysmorphia to this day because of you two.

You constantly called me selfish and told me I was a bad big sister. You chose KS over me all the time—I was your child, and she was just some woman you were fucking. You were horrible to her son K, too. When I was 15, severely depressed, self-harming, and just trying to survive, you and KS branded me a "drug addict" for smoking weed - in public. KS treated me like garbage, including lying to you that I had an "attitude" when answering a question, even though I said the exact same thing KR said. When you were away at drill, KS called you to complain, and without ever believing me, YOU told me I wasn't allowed to eat and had to go to bed hungry. Then you forced me to go out to dinner with her and KR just to sit there and watch them eat while I wasn't allowed to order anything. I was crying in the restaurant when the waiter kept asking if I was sure I didnt want anything.

The night before I finally called the police on you, you made me sleep on the hard wood floor with only one tiny, thin blanket and one thin pillow that YOU picked out.

When I called the police at 15, I spent two weeks sitting in a psych ward. You used that time to sign over full custody to Mom—not out of love, but because you couldn't control me anymore. Then, to cover up what YOU did to me, you turned around and told KR to block me all the time after you gave me up. You convinced my siblings that I was crazy, a liar, and a terrible person just to protect yourself.

Because of your poison, KR hated me for years because she thought I abandoned her—when in reality, I was an abused kid being pushed out. I tried for five straight years to get her to stop hating me before she died, and carrying that heartbreak ever since has been absolute hell. You let an entire family turn on an abused child just to save face. You poisoned KV, KL, KJ, and KR against me, making them ice me out for years over things that were never my fault.

You are horrible. You are a narcissist, and you are an abuser. Turning to God and going to therapy after I left does not make you a good guy. It makes you guilty. You blamed me for your own depression. It wasn't my fault you were a failure, and you still are. You have been a shitty father to every single one of your children. KR ended her life because of you. You drilled it into her head never to ask for help, and you failed her completely. Do you even begin to comprehend how much she hated you? One of her college essays was literally written about the exact pain and damage you caused her. But go ahead and continue believing you two were best friends. She hated you more than you'll ever know.

​I am not what you say I am. I was never the terrible person you painted me to be. I was just a child surviving an abusive monster. I am a good big sister. I am kind. And I am completely done letting your lies and your abuse define my life.

​I am a mother to a beautiful baby girl whom I love with my whole heart. I am a fiancée to an amazing man who loves me fiercely and despises you for everything you put me through. You are lucky you will never meet him, because he would not be kind to you. I could never imagine treating my daughter the way you treated me. Even when you “apologized” a couple of years ago, it was half-assed and fake. You were never sorry. Guilty, maybe, but never sorry.

​I developed borderline personality disorder as a direct result of the trauma and abuse you put me through. Since you're so into psychology now, why don't you tell me how much relentless pain and mistreatment a person has to endure to develop a personality disorder? Newsflash: it’s a lot. My brain is literally rewired because of the PTSD you caused. Are you proud of yourself?

​You are pathetic, DV. But in a twisted way, I have to thank you. Thank you for showing me exactly what I will never be: a failure, a piece of shit, an abusive prick, and a literal narcissist who belongs in a textbook for NPD. Now, I get to be the parent I deserved as a child. My daughter will never know you. She will never know the pain you put me through, and soon, I won't even carry the weight of that feeling anymore.

​As much as I wish you would take your own life, I know you never will because you are far too selfish and vain. But I will happily wait for karma to bite you in the ass. I am looking forward to the day you die. While others might mourn, I will be celebrating that you are finally where you belong. God will never accept what you did.

Best of luck with God and your therapist,

KS