J
jellfish
I've posted in here a few times, but I haven't really told My Whole Story or anything and I guess it's long and I'm not sure if I matter in the grand scheme of things but if anyone has some time to kill and wants to read it-- I'm going to try to make this as brief BUT as detailed as I possibly can so I can try to figure out who I am/what I want to do next in my life.
I'm going to also give a history of my parents because I think that'll help put the pieces together (since I believe everything is "connected" not in a psychedelic mushroom way, but in a genuine "hey, this caused this" type of way).
SO- IN THE BEGINNING- Dad- he had 4 brothers and he was the youngest. Both of his parents were from the Great Depression type of era and both of them agreed that there was No Fun Allowed. My dad's mother was generally negative and your average racist relative type person (though she did increase the quality of my life via teaching me about birds and how to garden). She never, according to my dad (and I believe him), validated any of his feelings or anything he did.
My mom is from Mexico-- as were both of her parents. Her father wasn't present at home and her mom took care of all the kids (she was the youngest as well). Both of my parents aren't very emotional. I've only seen my mom cry twice. Once, when her grandma died, and the second time when she explained to my dad she was upset because he hadn't let her visit when she was dying. So, she didn't get to say bye. My dad teared up once when his sister-in-law killed herself. I was born in 1994.
My father was at the time a professor of organic chemistry in Houston. My mom worked as a secretary but never had a job after that, she stayed at home and did Official Mom Business. My first memories of my dad are very vague. I don't remember emotions in the first four years of my life except discomfort. I was always generally uncomfortable or empty. My parents later described me as "quiet and weird" and my dad always brings up this time he took me to the park with a ball, and I wouldn't play with the other kids. And for some reason thinking about that always makes me tear up a little, because I don't understand why I was like that. I don't have any grasp on why I was like that.
I do have good memories like seeing the fish swim in the hallway near my dad's office at the university or eating tortillas with my grandma, or singing in Spanish at church. My dad recalls this time as the time when he "should have known something was wrong". My brother was born about 4 years later and at that time my dad decided he wanted to raise a family in somewhere small and more "family friendly". I thought Houston was perfectly family friendly, but I guess I can see his point.
So we lived in a small town of Missouri. Again, I don't really remember much. I try not to think about it too often. My only distinctly vaguely positive memory with my dad during this time was when I was in second grade and he was putting me to bed and I told him I didn't want my family to die-- I understood mortality, kind of. And he kissed me on the cheek and said something along the lines of "yeah it's sad but it's okay". Probably more intelligently.
In fourth grade my dad tells me that on one of our walks home from school I described to him how "everyone works so hard and for what? I just don't care anymore." And my grades went from perfect to "meh". During this time my mom showed more emotions, she was angrier. My parents used to fight, and me and my brother would hide in my room. My second brother was born around this time. My dad would kick things and yell when he was angry, my mom called the police on him and he would call her "ghetto" for doing so. But he would quickly calm down if the police became involved. Shocking.
Anyway, this was when he began walking with me. We'd go on walks and he'd describe my mom as "full of shit" and "f*cked up" and "didn't know what was going on upstairs" and it quickly turned to me. He considered me and my mom his "biggest mistakes" and that he was lucky my mom was more masculine but I was just a girl and girls are difficult.
This doesn't mean my dad didn't do good things. He would take us to museums and the movies and the zoo. I never wanted to go because I hated being around the family, but I still remember these times fondly. In some ways. I loved the experience. I wasn't emotionless, I was just exceptionally reserved and quiet-- very uncomfortable though. Still, I always had this sense that I was forgetting something. I'm constantly in a state of that exact feeling when you go to the kitchen to get something, and you don't quite remember why you're there.
My dad got a different job that paid better in the Mid-west. At 10 years old when I hit puberty, my life nosedived. I remember getting my first C and my dad first laughed, then called me "the family retard". He would joke that I was ugly, stupid. I distinctly remember having this conversation with a friend in front of him, but I was so uncomfortable around him that I was averting my gaze and stuttering and when we left my dad turns to me and asked me "why do you have to be such a retard?". He also tickled me a lot which I hated passionately.
Another time, a memory I particularly hate... he described to me how all men were obsessed with sex (I believe I was in sixth grade) and how a man might rape me. I was quiet and then I told him I didn't believe that, that I believed a lot of men were good. He screamed at me and attacked me (with clothes on) and told me to fight back. I didn't, I cried and ran upstairs.
Probably around 13, my dad was in medical school. We went to the doctor's because my dad said I was depressed and anxious. He was right. It felt like I had been staring out an iced over window for three weeks. At this time, I loved him. I still do. He is the funniest man I know. He's creative and brilliant in a lot of ways, a problem solver-- but he saw me as a problem. He would spend hours, into the night, talking to me about how I was a "f*ck up" and "useless" and he called me every single name in the book. He wouldn't let me sleep sometimes, to yell at me about... I don't even remember. I just remember intense feelings of despair. I hated being at school. I had senioritis in 7th grade. I was ready to leave or ready to die.
We moved down into the Deep South, and I was diagnosed with a mood disorder at this point. I would wander around outside at night like some strange lamenting ghost in the neighborhood, so angry and angsty. I hated being at home. I hated it so much. I don't even have details anymore, I just remember being intensely miserable. I'm very tired even writing this out. I should mention here that I was on medication-- Lamictal and Lexapro.
At around 16 we lived in Pensacola, FL. The most significant event during this time was being raped. I went from "vaguely considering dying" to wanting to die every single day. I overdosed twice during this time. I was hospitalized three times. I met my current boyfriend during this time. From 16-18 I probably tried over 15 different medications. My dad started trying to push the "borderline personality disorder" diagnosis during this time. All of his anger directed at me he described as "a normal reaction to an abnormal situation" (me being the abnormal situation).
I was on quetiapine when I was raped and I was also on quetiapine during the worst memory of my father in which he told me he wished I was dead, that he was going to kill me, and pushed me to the ground screaming in my face. He took me to school that day.
My father is the type of person to tell me to obey just because he's the boss. He would invade my space and privacy because he was the boss and he could. He would poke me on purpose, just until I was crying, and then I would take an Ativan. He would instruct my brothers to do the same.
I pay my own rent now and I make $700 a month. I have 3 months until I have to leave, anywhere and I'm not sure what I'm going to do or even what the point of this post was. I've missed a lot of school and I'm so scared I'm going to get my admissions revoked from UWF (in Pensacola). I have very few ways of getting money, and the only thing I'm guaranteed there is a safe living situation. Other than that, I have no clue how I'm going to live in my own horrible brain. I want to go to Pensacola, but now my mom is suggesting that it's not such a good idea, and to go to Houston with her family. But I don't want to be there. And I doubt myself so much, I want to be in Pensacola with my boyfriend and so many friends I have and all the music there. But I'm afraid I've already messed up enough. I got my associate's degree from there. I have so many practical questions I want to ask-- how do I save up for this? How do I get the help I need? I'm still on my dad's insurance now, but not for long. How do I go there confidently? How do I get all the money I need in a 3 month span?
Last, I want to vlog or blog about this but I don't know how and I'm scared he'll find out. Especially since I keep in contact. I don't know. Thanks for reading. Sorry if it didn't make sense. I'm on Topamax so Cognitive Blunting has arrived. I'm worried I'm a huge liar and making this all up. But I just want advice. Solid advice on how to move forward. I wish I could do it tomorrow but I know it will take longer than that. I want someone to give me the exact steps or point me in the direction of the exact steps I need-- with 500 back up plans where I win in every single one.
Mod edit to add: poster is @lithium-mom, below
I'm going to also give a history of my parents because I think that'll help put the pieces together (since I believe everything is "connected" not in a psychedelic mushroom way, but in a genuine "hey, this caused this" type of way).
SO- IN THE BEGINNING- Dad- he had 4 brothers and he was the youngest. Both of his parents were from the Great Depression type of era and both of them agreed that there was No Fun Allowed. My dad's mother was generally negative and your average racist relative type person (though she did increase the quality of my life via teaching me about birds and how to garden). She never, according to my dad (and I believe him), validated any of his feelings or anything he did.
My mom is from Mexico-- as were both of her parents. Her father wasn't present at home and her mom took care of all the kids (she was the youngest as well). Both of my parents aren't very emotional. I've only seen my mom cry twice. Once, when her grandma died, and the second time when she explained to my dad she was upset because he hadn't let her visit when she was dying. So, she didn't get to say bye. My dad teared up once when his sister-in-law killed herself. I was born in 1994.
My father was at the time a professor of organic chemistry in Houston. My mom worked as a secretary but never had a job after that, she stayed at home and did Official Mom Business. My first memories of my dad are very vague. I don't remember emotions in the first four years of my life except discomfort. I was always generally uncomfortable or empty. My parents later described me as "quiet and weird" and my dad always brings up this time he took me to the park with a ball, and I wouldn't play with the other kids. And for some reason thinking about that always makes me tear up a little, because I don't understand why I was like that. I don't have any grasp on why I was like that.
I do have good memories like seeing the fish swim in the hallway near my dad's office at the university or eating tortillas with my grandma, or singing in Spanish at church. My dad recalls this time as the time when he "should have known something was wrong". My brother was born about 4 years later and at that time my dad decided he wanted to raise a family in somewhere small and more "family friendly". I thought Houston was perfectly family friendly, but I guess I can see his point.
So we lived in a small town of Missouri. Again, I don't really remember much. I try not to think about it too often. My only distinctly vaguely positive memory with my dad during this time was when I was in second grade and he was putting me to bed and I told him I didn't want my family to die-- I understood mortality, kind of. And he kissed me on the cheek and said something along the lines of "yeah it's sad but it's okay". Probably more intelligently.
In fourth grade my dad tells me that on one of our walks home from school I described to him how "everyone works so hard and for what? I just don't care anymore." And my grades went from perfect to "meh". During this time my mom showed more emotions, she was angrier. My parents used to fight, and me and my brother would hide in my room. My second brother was born around this time. My dad would kick things and yell when he was angry, my mom called the police on him and he would call her "ghetto" for doing so. But he would quickly calm down if the police became involved. Shocking.
Anyway, this was when he began walking with me. We'd go on walks and he'd describe my mom as "full of shit" and "f*cked up" and "didn't know what was going on upstairs" and it quickly turned to me. He considered me and my mom his "biggest mistakes" and that he was lucky my mom was more masculine but I was just a girl and girls are difficult.
This doesn't mean my dad didn't do good things. He would take us to museums and the movies and the zoo. I never wanted to go because I hated being around the family, but I still remember these times fondly. In some ways. I loved the experience. I wasn't emotionless, I was just exceptionally reserved and quiet-- very uncomfortable though. Still, I always had this sense that I was forgetting something. I'm constantly in a state of that exact feeling when you go to the kitchen to get something, and you don't quite remember why you're there.
My dad got a different job that paid better in the Mid-west. At 10 years old when I hit puberty, my life nosedived. I remember getting my first C and my dad first laughed, then called me "the family retard". He would joke that I was ugly, stupid. I distinctly remember having this conversation with a friend in front of him, but I was so uncomfortable around him that I was averting my gaze and stuttering and when we left my dad turns to me and asked me "why do you have to be such a retard?". He also tickled me a lot which I hated passionately.
Another time, a memory I particularly hate... he described to me how all men were obsessed with sex (I believe I was in sixth grade) and how a man might rape me. I was quiet and then I told him I didn't believe that, that I believed a lot of men were good. He screamed at me and attacked me (with clothes on) and told me to fight back. I didn't, I cried and ran upstairs.
Probably around 13, my dad was in medical school. We went to the doctor's because my dad said I was depressed and anxious. He was right. It felt like I had been staring out an iced over window for three weeks. At this time, I loved him. I still do. He is the funniest man I know. He's creative and brilliant in a lot of ways, a problem solver-- but he saw me as a problem. He would spend hours, into the night, talking to me about how I was a "f*ck up" and "useless" and he called me every single name in the book. He wouldn't let me sleep sometimes, to yell at me about... I don't even remember. I just remember intense feelings of despair. I hated being at school. I had senioritis in 7th grade. I was ready to leave or ready to die.
We moved down into the Deep South, and I was diagnosed with a mood disorder at this point. I would wander around outside at night like some strange lamenting ghost in the neighborhood, so angry and angsty. I hated being at home. I hated it so much. I don't even have details anymore, I just remember being intensely miserable. I'm very tired even writing this out. I should mention here that I was on medication-- Lamictal and Lexapro.
At around 16 we lived in Pensacola, FL. The most significant event during this time was being raped. I went from "vaguely considering dying" to wanting to die every single day. I overdosed twice during this time. I was hospitalized three times. I met my current boyfriend during this time. From 16-18 I probably tried over 15 different medications. My dad started trying to push the "borderline personality disorder" diagnosis during this time. All of his anger directed at me he described as "a normal reaction to an abnormal situation" (me being the abnormal situation).
I was on quetiapine when I was raped and I was also on quetiapine during the worst memory of my father in which he told me he wished I was dead, that he was going to kill me, and pushed me to the ground screaming in my face. He took me to school that day.
My father is the type of person to tell me to obey just because he's the boss. He would invade my space and privacy because he was the boss and he could. He would poke me on purpose, just until I was crying, and then I would take an Ativan. He would instruct my brothers to do the same.
I pay my own rent now and I make $700 a month. I have 3 months until I have to leave, anywhere and I'm not sure what I'm going to do or even what the point of this post was. I've missed a lot of school and I'm so scared I'm going to get my admissions revoked from UWF (in Pensacola). I have very few ways of getting money, and the only thing I'm guaranteed there is a safe living situation. Other than that, I have no clue how I'm going to live in my own horrible brain. I want to go to Pensacola, but now my mom is suggesting that it's not such a good idea, and to go to Houston with her family. But I don't want to be there. And I doubt myself so much, I want to be in Pensacola with my boyfriend and so many friends I have and all the music there. But I'm afraid I've already messed up enough. I got my associate's degree from there. I have so many practical questions I want to ask-- how do I save up for this? How do I get the help I need? I'm still on my dad's insurance now, but not for long. How do I go there confidently? How do I get all the money I need in a 3 month span?
Last, I want to vlog or blog about this but I don't know how and I'm scared he'll find out. Especially since I keep in contact. I don't know. Thanks for reading. Sorry if it didn't make sense. I'm on Topamax so Cognitive Blunting has arrived. I'm worried I'm a huge liar and making this all up. But I just want advice. Solid advice on how to move forward. I wish I could do it tomorrow but I know it will take longer than that. I want someone to give me the exact steps or point me in the direction of the exact steps I need-- with 500 back up plans where I win in every single one.
Mod edit to add: poster is @lithium-mom, below
Last edited by a moderator:
