I haven't served in the military or worked for EMT/EMS/etc or volunteered for WTC. Nothing of that sort. I don't want to undermine the courage and sacrifice these people made by saying I have PTSD when I haven't done anything.
I guess to start off, I'll introduce myself. I'm 20 years old and I come from a traditional/conservative Korean family. I came to the United States when I was 7 years old. I haven't seen any of my relatives in Korea since except for my grandparents who visited us for a year. During the first several years, we had extreme financial problems. Money transfer from Korea to America left us with nothing. My parents had to work morning till past midnight. My brother, two and a half years older than me, raised me. Therefore my parents weren't there to stop my brother from putting a butcher knife to my face. He never cut me but I remember being so scared that I used to cry for hours until I fell asleep.
I'm the type of person who used to shrug at the experiences I went through. Child abuse was a joke because many immigrants who come to the USA get abused as a kid. I figured I was just complaining and being weak. It was until recently I suspected that I might have PTSD or some form of depression/anxiety disorder.
I've been beaten countless times for various reasons; many of which I think wasn't right but was somewhat justified. It was never abuse from alcoholism. My parents are very serious Christians. They would beat me as a kid when I brought home papers that they believed were incompetent. Each beating would start and end the same. Usually, both my brother and I were beat together even though it started with just punishing one of us. My dad would tell my brother to come out and take some hits for being a bad influence on me since he is the older brother. If he got in trouble, he would tell me to come out and count out all the past mistakes I've made and hit me for that. To be fair, they do love us very much. I thought I had gotten past all that since they stopped hitting me some time during high school. I guess I was wrong.
Here are few things that I cannot seem to get out of my head. One thing was the absolute fear when my dad would tell us to grab some wooden spoon or some utensil to beat us with. How cruel and ironic that we had to bring him the very weapon to hit us with. That suspense killed me. During each beating, my dad used to say if we cry he will hit harder and more. This type of beating only started when I was 8. I guess I understand in some ways their frustration because they go through hell just to be able to tell us we can afford Burger King Whopper Jr. for dinner on Sunday. After each beating, he'd go on about how it was our fault. How we make them angry and cause them to do so. For a little while I believed it until I learned about child abuse in middle school. I didn't do anything because I'd rather take the abuse than get sent to an orphanage or something.
One specific "image" that always pops up in my head is a moment where my brother hit me and I ran to my parents crying. My dad grabbed me and punched me in the face several times. It wasn't painful but more numb than anything. Honestly, I don't remember if this is real or not but I often see this image. When I ask my dad about it, he says he doesn't remember or it never happened. To this day, it would be when I was in early middle school. It was the first and last time my father actually punched me as opposed to using a wooden spoon or something. All I remember was how helpless and scared I was. Now, I have this click in my jaw. I have no idea if it was from that incident or if it was from high school when I played lacrosse.
Things that made me suspect I might have PTSD is that I am constantly on alert and it is exhausting to even be outside the house. You will always see me shaking my leg or constantly fidgeting around (and I'm not a jumpy person. I used to be a really laxed out guy. Down-to-earth and tolerant. Patient and understanding. Empathetic). I see myself burst in anger at my mother now, and I can see the fear in her eyes when I yell or snap. Like she thinks I'm about to hit her even though I would never do that. I see myself becoming a bit more violent. Some of the thoughts in my mind I am not proud of. I rarely have thoughts of suicide but it occurs every now and then. I never attempted suicide because deep down I believe that to be cowardly. I feel so disassociated from the world. I want to sit and do nothing. Literally nothing. Except for work, I force myself to socialize even with my closest friends. I love to go out and have fun but I just can't seem to "talk like a normal" person. Many of my friends from high school now think I'm weird as my anxiety and paranoia gets stronger day by day. You will always find me daydreaming because I hate the point of life I am at. I love my life and I'm not emo about that. What I hate is the stage of life I'm at where I'm still living under my parents' roof and commuting to college because of finances. My parents found a new form of abuse to us, which is guilt-tripping us to no ends.
I used to be a peace-loving f***ing hippie but my anxiety just kept getting stronger. Now I can barely trust my own friends. I don't trust my parents at all. I'm losing trust in my brother, who's the closest person I know as he went through all that hell right by my side. My brother's a damn bum who does nothing for others but for himself. He leaves a mess, leaves all electricity on, which puts ME on the spot as my parents nag at me for his mess because he's never home (which I also get nagged at). Now, they're giving me hell because I told them since freshman in high school how I don't want to go to church. They never want to hear it. I was extremely friendly before. I had a lot of friends too.
Now, I'm not friendly. I sound like a damn skeptic. A cynic. I am paranoid of a lot of things. I hate nosy people now when I used to hate no one. I hate Christians even more now. I don't know if this is because my parents force Christianity on me or because I think they are ignorant... in the end, I guess we're all ignorant. I have close to no confidence anymore. Whenever I DO hang out with my friends, I get irritated because I think they complain about the smallest BS. I get irritated when they talk ONLY about parties and getting f'd up because I was done with all that in high school. I think the real thing I am scared of is becoming too drunk and becoming violent. I've always been the really happy guy when drunk but I don't trust myself to get past tipsy anymore.
I'm just lost and confused. The only thing I look forward to in life is getting my own place. I don't normally feel anything except numbness. Unless it's either serious sadness, happiness, etc. At this point in life, even with my friends, I couldn't care less what happened to them. I feel myself annoyed when my friends ask me if I want to hang out.
I would like to get therapy to see if I can try to balance out my life. I want to be able to go skydiving, play ball, mountain climb, experience life without being anxious and concerned about not even trusting myself. The only problem is, my parents would never hear this as they believe any form of mental problems are either fake or makes me "special." I work close to full-time but still don't make nearly enough money to be able to pay for professional therapy.
What can I do? Any form of advice, help, input and opinion would be appreciated. You can be harsh, just give it to me straight. Don't hold back, tell me what you want to say after reading this. Thanks.
---
EDIT:
Also, I help pay a lot of the rent. My brother got into 3-4 car accidents and I'm paying that off even though he makes more money than me. Stress is just building up and I can't take it. I've been helping with bills since high school while my brother drain more money from my parents pockets. I am scared to death that I have no money for college.
I guess to start off, I'll introduce myself. I'm 20 years old and I come from a traditional/conservative Korean family. I came to the United States when I was 7 years old. I haven't seen any of my relatives in Korea since except for my grandparents who visited us for a year. During the first several years, we had extreme financial problems. Money transfer from Korea to America left us with nothing. My parents had to work morning till past midnight. My brother, two and a half years older than me, raised me. Therefore my parents weren't there to stop my brother from putting a butcher knife to my face. He never cut me but I remember being so scared that I used to cry for hours until I fell asleep.
I'm the type of person who used to shrug at the experiences I went through. Child abuse was a joke because many immigrants who come to the USA get abused as a kid. I figured I was just complaining and being weak. It was until recently I suspected that I might have PTSD or some form of depression/anxiety disorder.
I've been beaten countless times for various reasons; many of which I think wasn't right but was somewhat justified. It was never abuse from alcoholism. My parents are very serious Christians. They would beat me as a kid when I brought home papers that they believed were incompetent. Each beating would start and end the same. Usually, both my brother and I were beat together even though it started with just punishing one of us. My dad would tell my brother to come out and take some hits for being a bad influence on me since he is the older brother. If he got in trouble, he would tell me to come out and count out all the past mistakes I've made and hit me for that. To be fair, they do love us very much. I thought I had gotten past all that since they stopped hitting me some time during high school. I guess I was wrong.
Here are few things that I cannot seem to get out of my head. One thing was the absolute fear when my dad would tell us to grab some wooden spoon or some utensil to beat us with. How cruel and ironic that we had to bring him the very weapon to hit us with. That suspense killed me. During each beating, my dad used to say if we cry he will hit harder and more. This type of beating only started when I was 8. I guess I understand in some ways their frustration because they go through hell just to be able to tell us we can afford Burger King Whopper Jr. for dinner on Sunday. After each beating, he'd go on about how it was our fault. How we make them angry and cause them to do so. For a little while I believed it until I learned about child abuse in middle school. I didn't do anything because I'd rather take the abuse than get sent to an orphanage or something.
One specific "image" that always pops up in my head is a moment where my brother hit me and I ran to my parents crying. My dad grabbed me and punched me in the face several times. It wasn't painful but more numb than anything. Honestly, I don't remember if this is real or not but I often see this image. When I ask my dad about it, he says he doesn't remember or it never happened. To this day, it would be when I was in early middle school. It was the first and last time my father actually punched me as opposed to using a wooden spoon or something. All I remember was how helpless and scared I was. Now, I have this click in my jaw. I have no idea if it was from that incident or if it was from high school when I played lacrosse.
Things that made me suspect I might have PTSD is that I am constantly on alert and it is exhausting to even be outside the house. You will always see me shaking my leg or constantly fidgeting around (and I'm not a jumpy person. I used to be a really laxed out guy. Down-to-earth and tolerant. Patient and understanding. Empathetic). I see myself burst in anger at my mother now, and I can see the fear in her eyes when I yell or snap. Like she thinks I'm about to hit her even though I would never do that. I see myself becoming a bit more violent. Some of the thoughts in my mind I am not proud of. I rarely have thoughts of suicide but it occurs every now and then. I never attempted suicide because deep down I believe that to be cowardly. I feel so disassociated from the world. I want to sit and do nothing. Literally nothing. Except for work, I force myself to socialize even with my closest friends. I love to go out and have fun but I just can't seem to "talk like a normal" person. Many of my friends from high school now think I'm weird as my anxiety and paranoia gets stronger day by day. You will always find me daydreaming because I hate the point of life I am at. I love my life and I'm not emo about that. What I hate is the stage of life I'm at where I'm still living under my parents' roof and commuting to college because of finances. My parents found a new form of abuse to us, which is guilt-tripping us to no ends.
I used to be a peace-loving f***ing hippie but my anxiety just kept getting stronger. Now I can barely trust my own friends. I don't trust my parents at all. I'm losing trust in my brother, who's the closest person I know as he went through all that hell right by my side. My brother's a damn bum who does nothing for others but for himself. He leaves a mess, leaves all electricity on, which puts ME on the spot as my parents nag at me for his mess because he's never home (which I also get nagged at). Now, they're giving me hell because I told them since freshman in high school how I don't want to go to church. They never want to hear it. I was extremely friendly before. I had a lot of friends too.
Now, I'm not friendly. I sound like a damn skeptic. A cynic. I am paranoid of a lot of things. I hate nosy people now when I used to hate no one. I hate Christians even more now. I don't know if this is because my parents force Christianity on me or because I think they are ignorant... in the end, I guess we're all ignorant. I have close to no confidence anymore. Whenever I DO hang out with my friends, I get irritated because I think they complain about the smallest BS. I get irritated when they talk ONLY about parties and getting f'd up because I was done with all that in high school. I think the real thing I am scared of is becoming too drunk and becoming violent. I've always been the really happy guy when drunk but I don't trust myself to get past tipsy anymore.
I'm just lost and confused. The only thing I look forward to in life is getting my own place. I don't normally feel anything except numbness. Unless it's either serious sadness, happiness, etc. At this point in life, even with my friends, I couldn't care less what happened to them. I feel myself annoyed when my friends ask me if I want to hang out.
I would like to get therapy to see if I can try to balance out my life. I want to be able to go skydiving, play ball, mountain climb, experience life without being anxious and concerned about not even trusting myself. The only problem is, my parents would never hear this as they believe any form of mental problems are either fake or makes me "special." I work close to full-time but still don't make nearly enough money to be able to pay for professional therapy.
What can I do? Any form of advice, help, input and opinion would be appreciated. You can be harsh, just give it to me straight. Don't hold back, tell me what you want to say after reading this. Thanks.
---
EDIT:
Also, I help pay a lot of the rent. My brother got into 3-4 car accidents and I'm paying that off even though he makes more money than me. Stress is just building up and I can't take it. I've been helping with bills since high school while my brother drain more money from my parents pockets. I am scared to death that I have no money for college.
