Post by rend on Jan 11, 2016 22:39:24 GMT -8
I figured it was time I joined some sort of group for this, or at least got my story out there.
My story is-- I grew up as an only child to two (seemingly) happily married parents until my mother died in 1999. My father raised me after that. It was very difficult time for him when my mother passed, but through therapy I've been realizing how damaging this was to my emotional development and identity. During that time I was basically not allowed to mourn my mother while my father isolated himself for a short time. Then I spent time with family doing fun things--this was their way to distract me from reality and give my father some grieving time. When that time was up, I had to go back to school with abusive peers, and hadn't processed any of the events that had occurred.
When I was about twelve I became very angry, I verbally lashed out at my family. I was also harassed in school as an extremely quiet unattractive "freak" but luckily had a few close friends. My family did not put me in proper counseling (don't put your child in public school counseling, please). I also had previous physical trauma from much earlier in my life, which was my first experience of what physical touch was. (Sorry, I'm all over the place)
So, after people scolded me for my few outbursts, namely my grandmother, I endured the way my father would touch me without asking. He was desperate to fill the void. We had no boundaries; before my mother died he was not quite as touchy, always working. We had a very loving relationship before my mother passed away--we still do in a lot of ways, but I became so enmeshed with him and isolated for much of my young life.
During high school, I never pursued a relationship with anyone I liked. I repressed my bisexuality. Nearly all day, I would lose myself thinking about what being in a relationship might be like. In perspective, it's a wonder how I was a good student. Without knowing it, my father was very controlling over my sexuality. When you live in a house with just you and your parent...I don't know. I was the only thing he had. He did everything for me, was and is the most hard working person in our family. Everyone loves him; people who meet him comment on how friendly he is, but I'm the only one who sees his manipulative side. I saw an excerpt from a book on covert incest: "she squirmed in her seat, as if wanting to get her father off of her." I can deeply relate to this phrase.
It's been one of the hardest things in my life to come to terms with the fact that this was real, sexual abuse. Not overt abuse in the way we think of it, but it is qualified. Since I was a child, I've been the rock of emotional reassurance, strong and stable on the outside, while my father provided for us physically. He was also the emotionally reactive one. I did the laundry, swept floors--normal chores, but I also brought him his beer and promised I would never bring a boy to the house. I became religious to control my desire to rebel.
It wasn't until I was 23-24 that I admitted to myself that I was bisexual, that I wanted to pursue a relationship, casually or seriously. I just wanted some connection with another person because it felt like I was starving. So far, I've only had one relationship that ended in sexual abuse. For someone that's had no boundaries set in life, I'm actually not as surprised as I used to be about the abuse. It's been two years since then, and I've avoided romantic relationships, finding myself attracted to an unavailable man, a "fun" attraction that might mean I could avoid real commitment.
Anyway, I feel like most things about me are pretty f**ked up, but no one would guess it. I thought by now I would be married, but I'm struggling to feel like a functioning adult, and trying to engage my "inner teenager" who is so wounded, bored, and broken. Part of me wishes I had run away from that life and lived with my friends from high school who were also very troubled girls themselves. Mental illness runs in my family, of course--no one but me has been willing to seek help for it. Now, I'm just on my own, feeling ten years too late in finding myself. I still live close to my family, have my master's degree but can't seem to get a great job that is full time (due to lack of motivation, fear, etc on my part mostly).
I have tried to set more boundaries in my life, but I continue to feel restless. I am creating more art and music, really pushing myself lately which feels like a step forward. I'm not sure that my relationship with my father that is overly dependent will ever change, and I'm not quite sure what to do, or if I'll be pushed far enough to cut everyone off completely. Anyway, this is me, and sorry if I've left on a depressing note, but that seems to be reality for now. I hope some of us can talk a bit. If you have any advice or wise words, I'm willing to hear it.
My story is-- I grew up as an only child to two (seemingly) happily married parents until my mother died in 1999. My father raised me after that. It was very difficult time for him when my mother passed, but through therapy I've been realizing how damaging this was to my emotional development and identity. During that time I was basically not allowed to mourn my mother while my father isolated himself for a short time. Then I spent time with family doing fun things--this was their way to distract me from reality and give my father some grieving time. When that time was up, I had to go back to school with abusive peers, and hadn't processed any of the events that had occurred.
When I was about twelve I became very angry, I verbally lashed out at my family. I was also harassed in school as an extremely quiet unattractive "freak" but luckily had a few close friends. My family did not put me in proper counseling (don't put your child in public school counseling, please). I also had previous physical trauma from much earlier in my life, which was my first experience of what physical touch was. (Sorry, I'm all over the place)
So, after people scolded me for my few outbursts, namely my grandmother, I endured the way my father would touch me without asking. He was desperate to fill the void. We had no boundaries; before my mother died he was not quite as touchy, always working. We had a very loving relationship before my mother passed away--we still do in a lot of ways, but I became so enmeshed with him and isolated for much of my young life.
During high school, I never pursued a relationship with anyone I liked. I repressed my bisexuality. Nearly all day, I would lose myself thinking about what being in a relationship might be like. In perspective, it's a wonder how I was a good student. Without knowing it, my father was very controlling over my sexuality. When you live in a house with just you and your parent...I don't know. I was the only thing he had. He did everything for me, was and is the most hard working person in our family. Everyone loves him; people who meet him comment on how friendly he is, but I'm the only one who sees his manipulative side. I saw an excerpt from a book on covert incest: "she squirmed in her seat, as if wanting to get her father off of her." I can deeply relate to this phrase.
It's been one of the hardest things in my life to come to terms with the fact that this was real, sexual abuse. Not overt abuse in the way we think of it, but it is qualified. Since I was a child, I've been the rock of emotional reassurance, strong and stable on the outside, while my father provided for us physically. He was also the emotionally reactive one. I did the laundry, swept floors--normal chores, but I also brought him his beer and promised I would never bring a boy to the house. I became religious to control my desire to rebel.
It wasn't until I was 23-24 that I admitted to myself that I was bisexual, that I wanted to pursue a relationship, casually or seriously. I just wanted some connection with another person because it felt like I was starving. So far, I've only had one relationship that ended in sexual abuse. For someone that's had no boundaries set in life, I'm actually not as surprised as I used to be about the abuse. It's been two years since then, and I've avoided romantic relationships, finding myself attracted to an unavailable man, a "fun" attraction that might mean I could avoid real commitment.
Anyway, I feel like most things about me are pretty f**ked up, but no one would guess it. I thought by now I would be married, but I'm struggling to feel like a functioning adult, and trying to engage my "inner teenager" who is so wounded, bored, and broken. Part of me wishes I had run away from that life and lived with my friends from high school who were also very troubled girls themselves. Mental illness runs in my family, of course--no one but me has been willing to seek help for it. Now, I'm just on my own, feeling ten years too late in finding myself. I still live close to my family, have my master's degree but can't seem to get a great job that is full time (due to lack of motivation, fear, etc on my part mostly).
I have tried to set more boundaries in my life, but I continue to feel restless. I am creating more art and music, really pushing myself lately which feels like a step forward. I'm not sure that my relationship with my father that is overly dependent will ever change, and I'm not quite sure what to do, or if I'll be pushed far enough to cut everyone off completely. Anyway, this is me, and sorry if I've left on a depressing note, but that seems to be reality for now. I hope some of us can talk a bit. If you have any advice or wise words, I'm willing to hear it.