LONG story about my pretty fucked up family, and my somewhat fucked up self

Hello,

I was actually inspired to write this after I responded to another poster's thread about his/her anxiety; I also can't sleep, and thought that this might be somewhat of a disturbingly interesting story for some people who are simply bored (although I wouldn't rank my family as being one of the most fucked up ones to ever exist, by any means).

I've had a lot of stress in my life over the last few years, but I think that my issue is more of a matter related to the fact that I can't really handle even small stressful events nowadays. I thought I'd ask for advice from people who have been in similar situations. I'll probably be writing a lot so that I can describe my situation in full detail; a lot of the writing will involve examples so that you can see how problematic my mother is, lol, and I'm sure that many people have been in similar situations. More often than not, I notice that people tend to drift away from at least one of their parents because of family issues.

Let me start off by mentioning that I come from a pretty broken family; although I wouldn't consider it to bethat much more fucked up than other fams in the U.S. (some people that I know have been molested by family members, etc), the most bothersome part of it is that my parents are very mentally immature in some ways, and they resort to denial a lot of the time (or simply may not be capable of viewing things from other perspectives) just to hide the issues. Basically, my mother is very "borderline" and "bipolar" (although I'm not sure if she would actually be diagnosed with them--she exhibits a lot of the traits though); deathly afraid of being abandoned, yet she cannot empathize with other people when she is the one who wronged them. She has always been abusive, and it's not until I went to college that I realized how many problems she may have;

for ex. when she was home alone with me when I was young and wanted me to take a nap with her when I didn't feel like sleeping during the day, she'd get extremely angry and would lock me in closets for a minute or so when I was 4-6 years old and would turn off the lights because she knew I was afraid of the dark--she'd hold onto the doorknob since the door didn't *actually* lock, and be completely silent so that I thought that I was alone in the basement (the room was a dark laundry room without a lightswitch on the inside). Keep in mind that I was never naughty or disobedient; in fact, I had been conditioned to be scared shitless by her because when she was angry, she was pretty goddamn scary to me when I small. Actually, I could probably just mention the fact that my father once told me that before I was born, she constantly suspected him of cheating on her--one day, she even stabbed a knife through the bathroom door while he locked himself in it. Don't ask me why he married her, because I have no idea (Actually he's consistently told me that it's because he was lonely, which is something that I didn't understand when I was young, but do now).

Another weird example is when I was 3 or so years old; I'm not sure whether this memory is just one of those "made up" memories since it's such an early one, but it wouldn't be out of character for her to have done this. I had rubber snakes that I'd play with, and I vividly remember feeling afraid of them after she hit me with them, and not knowing why she was angry (she may have only done this once or not at all). Anyway, she hasn't been afraid to hit me since I was a kid, but I've never really considered myself a victim of physical abuse because they were never hard enough to make any kind of bruising or semi-permanent marks, for that matter. The memory with the snakes also could have just been a re-created memory, but I definitely know that she has done other very questionable things despite me never backsassing her in the slightest (until I went to college--yes, it took that long). One of the strangest things she's done is when I was around 11 or 12, and she got angry about something (obviously something stupid, since, like I said, I never talked back); in her anger, she pinned me down to a bed and started quickly and forcefully moving her hands over my boobs (over the shirt, I'm pretty sure--and lol, using the word 'boobs' makes that sentence kind of funny despite the context), despite me screaming (I actually was very self conscious about my boobs when they started to grow when I was prepubescent), and I think she did this to humiliate me, since she knew that I didn't want anyone to touch or even look at them. It was actually pretty hard typing that, because to this day I still feel the humiliation, shame, and embarrassment that I had felt very strongly during that event as a kid. Something that has always puzzled me, though, is why she did it; I wonder whether if she did, indeed, do it do humiliate me, or if there's some sort of fucked up molester mentality she has. I doubt it's the latter btw since she's never done anything else that was even remotely sexual to me (besides always pointing out that my boobs were growing when I hit puberty, which embarrassed me--but I figure this is something many mothers do, jokingly).

Surprisingly, my parents have always been married; I forgot to mention that my mother is Korean and my father is white--he is extremely submissive to her and almost always gives in to her will to avoid the bullshit she brings if he doesn't, and the psychotic episodes she goes through (screaming, throwing things, she actually would chase me around the island we had in our kitchen when I was around 4-6, and if she couldn't catch me, she'd throw things at me, lol). The most disappointing thing about him is that he never attempted to stop or even acknowledge the abuse; I don't think I ever told him about the boob grabbing thing, but when he was in the house, from the time I was 4-16 years old, he would just stand by silently, with a "concerned" look on his face despite him not speaking up to her. When they got into fights though, he would complain to me about how she was a bitch, etc., since I was 6 years old; however, it seemed that if he could choose to put me in the "line of fire" rather than him, he would.

Anyway, I also forgot to mention that my mother also has the typical asian mentality (which I don't consider to be a horrible thing); I was raised to have straight A's, perform very well on musical instruments (I actually quit playing the piano when I was 7 because she taught me and would go crazy and make me cry constantly if I played ONE note wrong--not even kidding, lol, those kinds of asian parents definitely do exist, if someone doubted the stereotype), she threatened me that she'd "shave my head" if I had sex as a teenager, etc. So overall, you get my gist of how life was at home.

However, my parents have never had any troubles with financial issues, despite the fact that neither of them have college degrees and work low-waged jobs (they have not had money issues because they received assistance moving to a nice area, etc. from family members). While I wasn't very spoiled (I rarely received money to buy games, nice clothes, shop at malls, etc.), they didn't limit buying me certain things (I usually could get caffeinated drinks/energy drinks--which are pretty expensive--although maybe this is because I used them to do well in school and wouldn't have otherwise been able to stay awake/concentrate as well, lol) and usually went out of their way to provide me with healthy food, like any kind of fruit that I wanted--mom would complain about me buying unnecessary stuff like candy, though, so I had to go to the grocery store with my dad if I wanted something like ice cream or candy.

When I was a senior in high school, I come to school red-faced from crying because that morning, she had went ballistic when I simply said "Whatever" to something she said (yes, I am not kidding); she dragged me into a room by my hair, locked it, and while she didn't hit me hard enough for it to hurt a lot, I didn't want to hit her back because she was 1) My mother, and 2) I didn't want her to get even crazier. I was in such a state of emotional distress (I was actually extremely stressed at the time over feeling depressed in general, going through anorexia, and having to go through the college application process) that I resorted to hiding in a closet--she found me there, dad came up and simply stood by looking on in "concern" but not physically doing ANYTHING to stop her, and apparently one of the teachers reported that I was crying and as a result I was called up to the counselor's office. After much prying, I finally let it subtly slip that she had hit me in the head (although I mentioned that it wasn't hard enough to leave a bruise) and started panicking when my counselor told me that he had to report it to CPS (child protective services? I think that's what it's called). Got picked up that day by her and she guilt tripped me the entire time about letting it slip (when I was a kid she "Scripted" what I would say to teachers in the case that they noticed any indicators of abuse by telling me that if I did tell them, I would be put into foster care, never see her again, and I'd have even worse parents that "did bad things to children"--that's pretty scary for a 6 year old). When she brought me home, she continued to guilt trip me by sobbing and crying, pretending to back her bags and saying that she'd go to Korea forever because she was going to go to prison--when she noticed that I sort of WANTED her to go, she told me she'd take everything I loved, including my laptop (lol yes, the internet was my escape even back then), etc. Finally, when the counselor called telling me that because the school nurse didn't find any bruising, the incident would only be reported to CPS, and that my mother wasn't in trouble. She calmed down a bit and, strangely enough, comforted me while I layed in bed too exhausted to even say anything to anyone (stroking my hair, etc.) During the entire time, my dad never sided with me once--he just seemed to only care about both of us "making up" so that there wasn't conflict in the household. I'm still puzzled by how a father can let his child be abused from age 3 or 4-17 without even confronting his wife about it.

When I was in my second year of college, a lot of these issues, which had remained dormant while I lived at their house (because I would simply 'take' the bullshit since I was too emotionally exhausted to fight back--learned helplessness, too) came out because I decided to take on a serious relationship with a guy who does not go to college or have much money at all. Basically, my mother found out that I was planning to visit him over the christmas break (it was a long term relationship in the beginning) and went absolutely nuts, trying to spy on my facebook when I left for a MINUTE to go to the bathroom at my house (which was extremely creepy, because I was in a room that had a closed door and a bathroom within it--which means that she either purposefully waited in the hallway until she could HEAR me go into the bathroom, or coincidentally happened to come into my room while I was in there for 30 seconds), calling my boyfriend and telling him to cut off contact with me, accusing me of having been pregnant and having an abortion (despite the fact that there was NO evidence that indicated I had ever been pregnant), etc. On Christmas, she called me telling me that she was extremely upset that I hadn't called her (she expects me to remember her birthdays, get her something for mothers day--but criticizes the gift when I get it, etc.) and told me that if I didn't leave him, she'd stop paying my monthly rent for college (I have honestly been lucky to not *have* to work during college, although I do need to in order to afford things aside from the bills and rent). I guess I surprised her when I told her that, in that case, I was going to quit since I was sick of her bullshit, would rather make my own money than deal with her, that she's a cunt, etc. I even contacted the school since I knew I wouldn't be able to get a steady job soon enough with all of the hours I spent working in research labs. She later turned out to be bluffing, since having a drop-out college kid is one of the worst things that could happen, in an asian parent's eyes lol.

It's been about 3 years since that's happened, and my parents have finally given up trying to convince me to not date him since I simply hang up on them once they say something childish and unreasonable. A notable event is last summer, when I came home, intending to stay a week since I do feel sorry for my parents not being able to see their only child. A day after I came home I ended up getting into an escalated argument with my dad after he acted completely annoying and anal; he came to my room asking me if I could help him move my desk that I had intended on moving later that day, and when I told him that I'd help him a bit later, he stormed out and told me that we "weren't going to the movies anymore" (which was my idea, since I figured my dad would want some father-daughter time that he hadn't gotten in a few years). I got pissed off by his childishness and when he said "All you do is use me, anyway" (referring to the instances in which he visited me at college, and I, being extremely broke because I was living off of 400 dollars which was no longer sufficient with a boyfriend who had a hard time getting a job because he wasn't a student, had asked my dad to buy me groceries almost every time he visited) went off, telling him that he had no right to act that way or come to that assumption, when he had at least owed it to me to stop my mother from abusing me when I was a kid (which I had NEVER guilt tripped him about until that moment) and stupidly refused to acknowledge the issues that were right in front of him, in our family. Anyway, the end result was that he angrily said, "Yeah well I guess you were right--maybe you shouldn't come home from now on since everyone in our family gets into fights", and in response to me telling him that he shouldn't have had a kid if he didn't know how to raise one properly, said, "Yeah I shouldn't have--I don't know how to be a father", which would have given some sort of catharsis if it weren't for the fact that he said it spitefully and angrily. Anyway, I've been on very rare e-mail-speaking terms with my parents, and I do appreciate that they help me out financially (Despite refusing to accommodate a portion of my boyfriend's rent or let him even stay ONE night at my house, even though his mother paid for my food, bought me gifts, let me stay for months at her house, etc. during the last ENTIRE 2 summers AND winter breaks).

Another example of my dad's childish behavior is when I was around five or six; my parents had fought (as they commonly did when I was younger--they'd sometimes go 6 months, not kidding, without saying a single word to each other and using me as the "medium"--"go tell your asshole father this, etc"). My mom told me to call up to his room "Good night, asshole" (which I now realize as an attempt to hurt him very much by using his child); I didn't want to, but again, she made her threats if I didn't, etc., so I did. I didn't even think I was doing anything wrong, since I knew that I hadn't meant it. The next day when he came home from work, he was completely furious at me and told me to "wash out my mouth with soap" despite me telling him that mom told me to say it, etc., and basically acted as though I were an adult that knew better and purposefully, maliciously hurt him. Anyone would assume that a kid at that age wouldn't even know how to do this, but he's always been sort of dumb, to be honest.

Anyway, my question is this: Has anyone been in a similar situation? If so, has weed helped you on a long-term basis (warding off depression and anxiety even when you're not high, with consistent use)? Also, how do you deal with caring about and still missing your parents in a sort of way (I think back to the "good", uncommon times in my childhood and because of this I am unable to truly hate my mother for everything she has done) while minimizing contact with them? How do you deal with anxiety? Also, do you feel a sort of "disconnect" with other people?

*One thing to note is that I had a horrible episode of separation anxiety disorder when I was in fifth grade; I was EXTREMELY afraid of my mother dying and therefore leaving me (ironically I did not feel this extreme feeling with my father) and became very depressed and suicidal for a few months (I hadn't ever attempted suicide--I just prayed constantly for an escape from the pain and agonizing anxiety that I felt from this). I've had extremely bad episodes of depression throughout my life, and in the last 4 or so years I have mostly forgotten what it feels like to not be depressed (I only feel this way when I'm high or going through a rare phase of being interested in gaming--the internet's pretty much what keeps me sane while doing college related obligations, lol--it's unfortunate though that I've been dry in this area for the last 3 months Oh well, the longer I've gone without smoking, the less I feel that I need it in order to not be bored. Would still be nice just for motivational purposes, though).

My main issue lately has been the horrible nausea, indigestion, and stomach cramping that I get when I am particularly stressed. It is ridiculous that I have begun to find myself progressively unable to cope with even small things--sometimes the anxiety occurs when I have an important event that I do not feel prepared for/something that I really don't want to do begins looming nearby, and I am unable to eat for a day or so. This is a bit tmi, but I've noticed that during these particularly stressful days, I have a massive buildup of bile regardless of whether or not I have eaten. Bud has been the only way that I've been able to cure this nausea, as I vomit continuously for hours during these days even if I take antacids, eat fruit, vegetables, milk, etc. I usually can't eat whatsoever if I haven't smoked, and even not eating seems to worsen the issue (as well as eating!). Aside from smoking, how could you minimize this?
If you have read this massive, huge wall of text post, thank you for listening to my story; even if no one reads this, it's a catharsis just to write all of this unashamedly, as I've only mentioned a few of these events to about 3 close friends, and I really hope that it hasn't disheartened or put any readers in a bad mood. In retrospect I probably should have put this in the "Stories" section of this site, but I think it's a pretty general post as well. I'd appreciate any advice anyone has, and if you'd like to share your experiences here as well, I'm sure you'd feel somewhat better knowing that most people here don't judge

 

Insomniacs. Huge insomniacs. And other fucked up people, of course!

 

How so?

 

What you said is true, although I wrote this post not for attention, but to gain legitimate suggestions from people in similar situations. As humans, we do have control over ourselves and how we handle things, but only to a certain extent--other factors, such as genetics or various experiences play a large role in our personalities. While I do acknowledge that my situation is not bad compared to many other people's (as I mentioned in my post and you pointed out), I enjoy the anonymity of being able to ask for suggestions from people while writing freely and with the knowledge that people who would like to read such a long post can do so, and that people who would not like to, do not need to.

 

Haha, I can't say that I really believe in a god either; I lean more towards atheism, but I don't blame people who do believe in one; many people use it as a crutch when shit goes wrong in their lives, and I guess it makes it easier to live through shit with the belief that you'll get rewarded in the end. I'm not really afraid of "nothingness", though.

Thanks for the suggestions/relations, by the way; I actually haven't stayed on an SSRI for more than 2 weeks since I had an allergic reaction to one of them (Wellbutrin, I think it was). Not sure if it was because the psychiatrist I saw gave me the wrong dosage, or my body's just weird. And that sucks, I'm actually surprised that missing a dose of SSRIs have a huge impact (since apparently they take 2 weeks to build up in your system, or something like that).

 

Thank you for reading and for your input; I'm actually surprised that anyone's read even most of this, lol, I wrote it mostly because writing is therapeutic to me and comes more naturally than, say, speaking about it. I'm sorry to hear that a lot of shit has happened to you.

And yes, re-reading this, I do think that I sound a bit harsh toward them, my father in particular. I do understand that he's probably just broken down from years of bullshit though, but I suppose that what has annoyed me is that he insists on trying to make me "patch things up" with my mother, when I know that doing so would really just perpetuate the cycle of b.s.

Ironically I've never gotten any additional anxiety from any strains so far--I haven't tried many, though, so I'll keep a lookout, haha.

 

LOL, I love the lightheartedness of this sentence. Haha, basically I was wondering whether consistent weed use can alleviate anxiety even when one is not high As in, whether it can have a "Carry-over" effect (the only carry-over effect I've noticed with myself in particular is the fact that I'm just spacier in general, rofl)

 

Yeah =/ See, it's that kind of tough life that many people have that keeps me from whining about first world problems when I'm not on the internet. I wish I were more durable, in that I could have gone through these experiences, which are miniscule compared to so many others, unfazed and happy-go-lucky.