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Childhood For Those Who Experienced Neglect And Abuse Growing Up: How Hard Was The Transition To Adulthood?

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foreveralone2099

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i remember as a teenager being frustrated because there was nowhere to go and no way to get there. that's suburbia for you! furthermore my parents were always scaring me with stories about how dangerous the outside world was. not nearly so dangerous as living with them!

becoming an adult has been HARD, as no one bothered to teach me any relevant skills. they just didn't care enough. but i've had friends who were left to their own devices and turned out okay: maybe their peer group provided what they needed or their teachers were competent or who knows what.

mental health issues aside, do you guys find it was harder to enter the adult world? do you wish you'd had parents who'd loved you?
 
Some people make it look easy, and some people definitely have better support and healthier adult role models than others. But there's a lot of changes going on when we transition from childhood to adulthood, finding our own identity, launching from the nest, etc - so I think it's pretty commonplace for people to identify with that transition being difficult, especially in retrospect. I can't actually think of anyone who I think would say "Pfft, my teenage years were a breeze!"

Is it easier to go through that process without having to deal with neglect or abuse? Sure. But it's "easier", rather than "easy".

You've started a couple of threads now (this and the barometer one) where you seem to be reflecting on those years, and what's normal, good, bad, easy/difficult...

Confronting my abuse, how "abnormal" that experience was, and how much damage it did, is an ongoing process, and incredibly painful. And over and over again, I've had to check in and (almost stupidly!) had to ask, "Was that bad?" The answer is yes. If you were abused as a child, that's bad.

Child abuse sets you up for all sorts of personality, emotional, behavioural, and mental health problems as an adult. If your primary caregivers didn't meet your basic needs as a child (which includes things like love and security), we don't learn all sorts of key things, like identifying and regulating our emotions, developing a stable sense of self, having healthy relationships with healthy boundaries. And although that might sound like fluffy psycho-speak, that's a big deal. If you've never been taught about what healthy, trusting, safe, loving relationships look like, there's nothing "innate" about being able to develop those sorts of relationships later in life. That's a pretty big deal, and it's just the tip of the iceberg.

So if you were abused, that's really bad. Like, really bad. It's not "normal". It's not okay. It requires healing. It means we have to learn about reparenting ourselves (with no good role models to learn from) from scratch.

And if you're suffering now? If you're having to heal from that? That's justified. I don't need to compare your trauma with anyone elses to be able to tell you that if you were abused as a child, that's really bad, and your suffering is justified.

Confronting that, accepting that? For me, that's still a work in progress.
 
Wow, this is a complex subject for me because it happened so long ago, yet it still seems like it was only yesterday!
We don't get to choose our parents, so I had to learn how to be my own parent & wipe out all the years of crap that my "caregivers" left me with.
I was well into my adult years when I realized that most of my childhood was not in the least bit normal & no one did a damn thing to help me!
Those were the days that "children were seen & not heard" & as long as a child had a roof over their heads & went to school, everything else seemed to fall under the radar.

I tried to raise my child in a better environment than I grew up in, but it has become clear to me that I also failed to give them the life they deserved. It was still far better than my life & I was able to give them the unconditional love that I never received. I had little to no life skills due to my Mother refusing to teach me anything outside of being her personal slave. So, when I met high school "sweetheart" & Mom hated him, I knew I could have a better life without her & left on the day I turned 18 to move in with him & his Mother! Their abuse was far less than my old house & I was personally "trained" how to care for her son, as she was soon moving to another state. I felt special at the time. I was really dumb! Young & dumb & then I got pregnant & had my first abortion. Then we got legally married & I had another abortion. Then we started a business & it was successful & I got pregnant again & we split up when I refused to have another abortion.

So then we bought a house & were gifted with a new van from his Mother as a way to lure us back together for her grandchild. I should have known it would never work, but I stayed & I tried for another 7 years. That's 17 years & add another 5 in court & it took a total of 22 years for me to wake up. By then, I had nothing because he was smart & I was trusting. The child suffered from his abuse towards her & no judge would listen to me because I admitted to being in the care of a therapist. It got really ugly for a long time & I made more poor life decisions, but I did them on my own & it was scary, so alcohol & drugs came back into my life. Oh yeah, I was still making poor decisions, but I thought I was doing good.

To make this long story as short as possible, the kid is almost 40 & has her own PTSD that she refuses to deal with in addition to a work injury & I live with her now as a renter. It's a vicious cycle of self abuse & I see it for what it is. Economics has forced us to live together as adults & it isn't always easy, but we both have unconditional love for one another & we talk after we yell & so far things have not turned violent as they did when we were younger. We have a bond and a trust that neither of us have ever had with anyone else. I fear that when/if I die, she will be left alone & blame me for holding her back. She says she is too busy building her career & that I should stop worrying about her & get on with my life. So, I'm still trying to figure out how in the hell to go on with my life before I'm too old & too sick to have one!
 
Boy do I feel this one. At the tender age of 35 I'm STILL trying to find something I can make a living doing, since my parents' idea of "training a child" was grooming me for full-time ministry (which I no longer have ANY desire to do...super-trigger!). I'm very angry with them for not teaching me anything useful, but after a stint of living on my own and then having to return to the nest, I realize neither of my parents are capable of functioning in the real world either. They couldn't teach me anything, because they didn't know anything to teach me. Unfortunately, due to the abuse aspect, It looks like it will be a long time before I'm capable of learning anything new (traumatized by teachers for a long time); also, I have Asperger's that has been undiagnosed and ignored or attempted to have beaten out of me, that now has to be dealt with. So yes, I never really branched into adulthood as such, and I'm super-pissed about it, but am taking the steps necessary to finally reach some adult benchmarks.
 
By the time I left home, I could clean a house top to bottom with a toothbrush in 1 morning, and take a punch. I had also learned be all but invisible, and that I could do nothing right. My childhood was about surviving my childhood, nothing more. I had literally no life skills, no relationship skills, no sense of self, and no confidence or value in myself. I knew from a very young age that my family wasn't ''normal'', and that I would have to learn to be a person once I left home. It was a really difficult transition, but I eventually learned the life skills. The relationship skills and self worth are another matter...
 
Been awhile since I've replied to anyone here....

The biggest challenge for me as adult seemed to be with conversations. I used to start them in the middle somewhere and take off in any direction. The recipient didn't have a clue what had just happened. Then I entered therapy back in 2013 with this man who helped me learn to have normal conversations with people. The funny thing is now I catch my husband in the same problems I had and I tell him to start from the beginning not the middle. I just never noticed how I lost people in talking with them until my therapist pointed it out.

I noticed in therapy with that man that I literally felt like I was growing up from one age to another. I told him so and he affirmed it.

I don't think I'll ever be completely "normal" and "fully functional" as an adult and I've accepted that. Though I've come a huge distance, and it took up many years of my life to find my way. I spent 25 plus years in therapy on and off since 1978.

And then there's the super simple things like Ronin said. For me, one was placing batteries in flashlights and other devices. I still don't have a clue why I couldn't figure out how batteries fit into devices. I knew about positive and negative on the batteries, but never figured out how to insert them. And it literally freaked me out to put them inside a flashlight. I suspect some kind of abuse happened with a flashlight and batteries. No memories. The first time I placed the batteries correctly without someone else helping me wasn't until 2013.

I'm happy to say that I no longer wish I had parents who were loving and supportive. Rather I've accepted that they simply weren't capable of doing that because of severe personality disorders.
 
Boy do I feel this one. At the tender age of 35 I'm STILL trying to find something I can make a living doing, since my parents' idea of "training a child" was grooming me for full-time ministry (which I no longer have ANY desire to do...super-trigger!).

Eagle3,
It took me until age 62 to find my natural talent and ability, and finally accept it as the way to make a living. When I do it I feel alive and it comes so easily. I've always wondered why I didn't figure it out sooner. Long story there and many misdirects by my parents and teachers and others along the way.
 
Shit, I don't think I grew up till I was in my early 40's when I was diagnosed with PTSD. Then everything clicked and I worked herd to try and become as healthy as I could. There are times that I fail, but I keep trying to move forward.
 
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