There’s something I’d like to share/write about before I lose the guts to do so. I was motivated by a combination of posts on this forum about being honest on the internet and that telling a bad truth is better than a sweet lie. I might come off as an asshole or a whiner, but if in the end what I wrote was deep from the heart and how I really feel, then no criticism I might expect for writing something (I only assume) controversial. It’s about my life, and how powerless I feel.
First, I hate my parents. My father is a hardcore alcoholic. Being sober is somewhat of an anomaly for him. He lost his job because of it. He constantly argues with my mother, which really gives you a lot of stress when you have to deal with it every single day, for over a decade, thinking that he might come for me with a knife in a drunken rage is terrifying and I came close to it twice. He used to beat my mom, but somewhat stopped now. As a father he was never there for me despite living under the same roof. All interaction between him and me is really him ordering me to do stuff or shouting at me. I have only one happy memory (And I’m actually surprised I remember this as I was less than six at that time) I was being pulled by my arms on wooden floor with my socks on so that I could slide. His drinking wouldn’t bother me that much if he was a father to me and not some statue. As a result of this I had no male role model, and don’t really feel like a man.
My mother, who I resent even more than my alcoholic father. Her methods are more subtle than my fathers, more passive-aggressive I should say. She hates my father, wishes him death in front of me, insults him constantly, and all that parental estrangement you can imagine. Why won’t she leave him I can’t imagine, because no one can be that messed up to like picking fights constantly where both parties and up acting like children and insulting each other’s families. I can only imagine she stayed because my father owns the house we live in. The arguments started when I was very little. My father before losing his job earned a lot of money, yet I always wore hand-me-downs, never had enough books for school, never could afford a school trip unless my grandma payed for it, but I digress. My father earned a lot of money, and my mother loaned a lot of money, and basically got all of us bankrupt to the point we could only afford paying for the house and basic necessities, but electricity and gas were often cut. Which is ridiculous, because with the amount of money my father earned we should have plenty. This is a thing I’ll never understand. Why she did it. But then again what are little financial troubles when you have loving mom right? Not so lucky here either. I basically don’t exist to her. The first hug I got in my life was in highschool, from a female friend. I read somewhere average people get at least 10 minutes of conversation daily. I get 2. If I’m lucky. And it’s always exchange of “how was school?” “fine” “wash the dishes” “clean the room”. When she came back from my school to check in with my teachers how I’m doing she would say something like “you are close to failing 3 subjects, correct it” and go on with her day. She never helped me with homework, and the like. And it’s still better than it was years ago. Now she has a job and people to talk on the phone with. She used to just sleep all day and was very fat. Outside of my room which I clean sometimes (I’m a rather messy person) the entire house is a big rotting, stinking, dirty dump, like the ones you’d see on TV. Only recently did I discover people should wash more often than once a week like she would do with me when I was little. Talk about parents teaching their children hygiene. You know I really am hurt, that my mother doesn’t know who I am, tries to estrange me from my father (and is successful), never supports me, and would allow her children to go out at midnight, get drunk and wouldn’t bat an eyelash . (didn’t happen, but I do walk out at midnights for a stroll in the park, or to hang out with my friends. It was my siblings that got a free pass to underage drinking)
Secondly there is me. A total mess, but hey, everyone’s a mess to some degree right? That is not the problem for me. I freakin love being alive! It’s just that I feel stuck and without agency, and I’m trying to find out why. I completely can’t take a grip on my life. As a middle child I always act compliant, always getting out of everyones way, and let people walk over me. No self-respect or willpower at all. Now that I’m supposed to enter adult life on my own two feet, I don’t feel adult enough for the challenge, I’m scared of it. When I was a little kid in elementary school I was bullied by another kid, that had ADD (or just was that way ADD is prone to being misdiagnosed). When I tried to tell my mother she didn’t listen to me and didn’t do anything about it. This and a couple of other things build a foundation of never trying or being able to communicate with my parents, and coming home with lifeless eyes and suicidal fantasies made me someone who acts stoic, with a façade that everything is fine, but late at night I cry when no one looks. I don’t think it’s innapropriate, after all I don’t feel the need to “man up”, and it help relieve a lot of build up stress. Another thing I hate about myself is my addiction to computer. I know I’m addicted, and it’s the reason why I never studied, or socialized. Also because of my hate towards my father, I swore to never drink, smoke or take drugs, and believe me it is a stupid thing to do in highschool. If anyone reading this tried to give up smoking but couldn’t maybe they will understand my addiction with computer. I want to stop but it’s stronger than me. I like to associate it with my mother giving me all the freedom when I was a kid, because when you have an option of doing homework or playing video games, most people choose video games, if both options are seemingly without short term consequence. I never learned how to bond also. My siblings being my older brother who is the star of the family and someone I’m always compared to, and my younger sister who can get away with a lot, and is showered with gifts and attention, I myself didn’t get (because presumably she is 8 years younger so I was “too old” to receive affection). I don’t know these people. How strange it is to hear people in real life or in movies show or describe their loving relationship with their family, and being unable to comprehend what that’s like.
Why am I writing this wall of text? Well like all posts of this sort I felt the need to vent, to share it, hope for understanding and advice.
I feel so alone in this. Being uncaring starts to bother me. The fact I think I would be fine with being homeless, makes me thing I might be wasting my life, so I want to change it. I went to a therapist once a long time ago. I was in dirty clothing because mom didn’t do laundry that day. Now I would call it neglect, but he said next time I should come in clean, scolded me for it even, asked if I wanted to take meds, and handed me a receipt (is that what you call them in English? He gave me a piece of paper with what meds to take) for antidepressants and that was it. So yeah, bad first experience with therapy. By the way those meds just made me not give a shit about anything. Uncaring =/= happy.
Suicide hotlines? Also useless. I don’t want to off myself. Most of those are USA, or UK, no one I know of in where I am (Poland). And those that are are for kids. And I passed 18 already. FML. I can only hope, that eventually, when I move out I’ll find good therapy (Not really counting on it though, after first experience with a colossal dick.).
Author
Topic: A tale of Middle child seeking a suicide hotline (Read 2571 times)