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My parents are great friends, but terrible parents.

#1
I’ve always had a different childhood to most of my peers. While they were sat around family meal at 7pm, talking about their days I was usually on my own, cooking for myself, or in the care of my grandparents. My parents were either at work, or as I grew up up, it was usually my dad at the gym, leaving me to spend my evenings alone. And I was fine with it. Granted I was 12 years old eating oven and microwave meals that I had cooked for myself every night but I thought it was normal. All kids do it. When I turned up to school with a shabbily made lunch that I usually didn’t eat, i thought it wasn’t because my friend were much better cooks than me.

There’s always been some element of gaslighting in my relationships with my parents. To do this day my father will still deny that he has slapped me round the face. No one has ever believed me because I can’t have been more than 10 at times. When something goes wrong, it is my fault. I have this crushing guilt complex. I even blamed for my mother’s miscarriage for a long time and even now I’m not sure that I’m free from that guilt. To this day I will be told im too sensitive. On multiple occasions I have cried in front of my parents, told them my suicidal thoughts, my self harm, how stressed and sick of life I am. And they told me I was over dramatic, being stupid. They made me feel guilty by talking about their friend who killed herself, and how dare I make such empty threats. So now I just don’t say anything, because keeping it all to myself is better than being belittled and shouted at for it.

I am in no way a neglected or an abused child. My parents are great friends. We joke together, they give me money, we go out together. But when it comes down to it, i just don’t feel that they’re good parents.

Because I can starve for days and they won’t notice because they never take care to see that I’m eating. Because I have scars on my wrists and They have not once asked me about them. Because they have found scales, laxatives, waist trainers in my room, heard me talk about weightloss and they still haven’t clocked that I have an eating disorder. Because i can’t express interest in anything (unless it’s something they like) without being belittled for it. Because they have threatened/have hit me as a punishment. Because I used to spend my life hiding from them, because I was so scared. Because I was cried in my friends arms after they had screamed at me for something so small I don’t even remember what and I had her tell me that how they behave and reacted wasn’t normal. Because They once had police follow me to Party to scare me and my friends (the host had a panic attack). Because I turned from a bright kid into a miserable suicidal one who used to not even be able to sit in a classroom, who has terrible grades when I used to be top of the class they never be stopped to care why. Because even now, when I’ve reached out to a mental health service, I’m still terrified of if they’re gonna tell my parents, how I’m going to hide my treatment from them because despite me attempting to get help multiple times now they still don’t get it.
 
#2
I’ve always had a different childhood to most of my peers. While they were sat around family meal at 7pm, talking about their days I was usually on my own, cooking for myself, or in the care of my grandparents. My parents were either at work, or as I grew up up, it was usually my dad at the gym, leaving me to spend my evenings alone. And I was fine with it. Granted I was 12 years old eating oven and microwave meals that I had cooked for myself every night but I thought it was normal. All kids do it. When I turned up to school with a shabbily made lunch that I usually didn’t eat, i thought it wasn’t because my friend were much better cooks than me.

There’s always been some element of gaslighting in my relationships with my parents. To do this day my father will still deny that he has slapped me round the face. No one has ever believed me because I can’t have been more than 10 at times. When something goes wrong, it is my fault. I have this crushing guilt complex. I even blamed for my mother’s miscarriage for a long time and even now I’m not sure that I’m free from that guilt. To this day I will be told im too sensitive. On multiple occasions I have cried in front of my parents, told them my suicidal thoughts, my self harm, how stressed and sick of life I am. And they told me I was over dramatic, being stupid. They made me feel guilty by talking about their friend who killed herself, and how dare I make such empty threats. So now I just don’t say anything, because keeping it all to myself is better than being belittled and shouted at for it.

I am in no way a neglected or an abused child. My parents are great friends. We joke together, they give me money, we go out together. But when it comes down to it, i just don’t feel that they’re good parents.

Because I can starve for days and they won’t notice because they never take care to see that I’m eating. Because I have scars on my wrists and They have not once asked me about them. Because they have found scales, laxatives, waist trainers in my room, heard me talk about weightloss and they still haven’t clocked that I have an eating disorder. Because i can’t express interest in anything (unless it’s something they like) without being belittled for it. Because they have threatened/have hit me as a punishment. Because I used to spend my life hiding from them, because I was so scared. Because I was cried in my friends arms after they had screamed at me for something so small I don’t even remember what and I had her tell me that how they behave and reacted wasn’t normal. Because They once had police follow me to Party to scare me and my friends (the host had a panic attack). Because I turned from a bright kid into a miserable suicidal one who used to not even be able to sit in a classroom, who has terrible grades when I used to be top of the class they never be stopped to care why. Because even now, when I’ve reached out to a mental health service, I’m still terrified of if they’re gonna tell my parents, how I’m going to hide my treatment from them because despite me attempting to get help multiple times now they still don’t get it.
I’m scared for my brother. Because he’s two. I watch my dad yell at him to shut up when he’s crying. I watch my parents smack him on the hand, despite me trying to stop it. I fear the day they start hitting him properly as a punishment. I’m scared for when he’s starts to discover and learn what he’s interested in, that they crush him. I’m scared he’ll grow up like me, alone and guilty and fearful, waiting for my parents to switch friend mode off and become “parents.” I’m scared that In 15 years time he’ll be 17, sitting alone crying his eyes out with scars on his wrists, typing just a bunch of mindless shit into a forum because he’s got no one else to turn to, because he’ll feel like a burden like me. I’m scared that I won’t be able to protect him.
 

Rockclimbinggirl

SF climber
Staff Alumni
SF Supporter
#3

Jaz

Well-Known Member
#4
Oh wow,it broke my heart reading thatm sorry you had to go through all that and though I've been in a different situation than you,i can simply understand. They are supposed to be there for you and its mountains of hurt when they're the ones hurting you. Ive been mentally abused by my mother so i can sympathise with you on the parents not being parents
 
#5
My parents don't take depression seriously and think suicidal people are just spoiled youngsters looking for attention, I get what you are saying. I would advise you to talk to a school counselor, they can help you talk to your parents and deal with suicidal thoughts. Please stay safe.
 

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