... has me feeling so silly. I know I don't post often, I've got a bad habit of lurking for a few weeks after I register before I post.
But I feel so horrible all the time. I go to school, plaster a smile on my face and joke around like nobody's business, but the whole time, I point out every single mistake I make in my head. I don't like getting up out of my desk to go places, I don't like doing anything that has a possibility of drawing attention to myself. I don't understand what's wrong with me.
When I was a little kid, my mother pulled me out of school to be homeschooled one day after I broke down crying in class (I think I repressed that memory, because I don't remember why it happened or anything). She brainwashed me for years with a cult belief system, always telling me that the world would be destroyed soon, and I wasn't worth anything on judgment day because I could very well be destroyed like everyone else. I was so afraid to make friends with anyone. I think something else may have happened to me when I was younger because for years, I couldn't hug people or look them in the eye ... I'd get so nervous if anyone even touched me. To this day, when people ask me to hug them or come up to me like they want a hug, it takes an act of Congress in my mind to bypass the fear and give them a hug.
So I don't get along with my parents. Anything that happens, we fight over. If I do something wrong, anything at all, I get put down for it so badly, that sometimes I cry. Then when I cry, if they see me, they call me stubborn and selfish, and they tell me that I need to straighten up and learn how to act. If I ask them for anything, then I'm spoiled rotten and I need to get a job. But yet, when I talk about going to college or leaving home or anything, they pretend like they want me to stay, like they give a damn about me. It's not true. I remember making silly little mistakes when I was younger, and dad would beat me with the metal end of a belt until I screamed. Then, he'd hit me harder, telling me to stop screaming and go to me room. I couldn't go to my room, of course, because I was on the floor wishing for the pain to end. Mom would be sitting right there in the living room looking at me, and when I got away from him, she'd give me this look like, "You deserved that." ... I don't know if it was abuse. It stopped ... but I don't know ... I can't even talk to people, it's so hard ... I'm afraid to tell my friends anything because I don't know what they'd say. How they'd look at me or my parents. Maybe I'm weak because I can't handle life, because I'm so sick of it ... or selfish, or stubborn, or whatever. It's all true.
And I used to have a brother, who killed himself. It makes me wonder, could he have gone through the same things I have? Why did he do it? With every passing day, I find more clues as to why he killed himself. Once, I woke up to my parents screaming at each other about whose fault it was that he killed himself (some fifteen years ago, mind).
And I don't know why I typed any of this, really. It makes me feel so stupid, trying to let it all out like this, because now it all looks so tiny and unimportant compared to what I've seen ... I guess what I'm trying to ask is, what my parents are doing. Is it some sort of abuse? What should I do, in my situation? Is life really still worth living, when everything is just falling apart like this? I don't know why or how I'm still here today, probably because I'm afraid to do anything ... but this is killing me inside. I feel like I'm only half of what I used to be - I can't bring myself to focus on studying, I can't bring myself to enjoy Friday night football or band rehearsals or the little things I used to enjoy all the time. I can't sleep right anymore (I either sleep too much or too little, but in the end it doesn't matter because I'm still tired during the day). If too many bad things happen in a day, I come home, deal with my parents, and I have to sit at the edge of my bed under the covers shaking and trying hard not to cry, for fear of someone noticing me or the phone ringing or whatever.
I don't know what to do anymore. I just feel so hopeless. I don't even know if I have a future. I used to live off of that, that maybe I'd survive just to prove my parents wrong, but I don't even think I can do that anymore.
Thanks for reading this, if you did. :sad:
But I feel so horrible all the time. I go to school, plaster a smile on my face and joke around like nobody's business, but the whole time, I point out every single mistake I make in my head. I don't like getting up out of my desk to go places, I don't like doing anything that has a possibility of drawing attention to myself. I don't understand what's wrong with me.
When I was a little kid, my mother pulled me out of school to be homeschooled one day after I broke down crying in class (I think I repressed that memory, because I don't remember why it happened or anything). She brainwashed me for years with a cult belief system, always telling me that the world would be destroyed soon, and I wasn't worth anything on judgment day because I could very well be destroyed like everyone else. I was so afraid to make friends with anyone. I think something else may have happened to me when I was younger because for years, I couldn't hug people or look them in the eye ... I'd get so nervous if anyone even touched me. To this day, when people ask me to hug them or come up to me like they want a hug, it takes an act of Congress in my mind to bypass the fear and give them a hug.
So I don't get along with my parents. Anything that happens, we fight over. If I do something wrong, anything at all, I get put down for it so badly, that sometimes I cry. Then when I cry, if they see me, they call me stubborn and selfish, and they tell me that I need to straighten up and learn how to act. If I ask them for anything, then I'm spoiled rotten and I need to get a job. But yet, when I talk about going to college or leaving home or anything, they pretend like they want me to stay, like they give a damn about me. It's not true. I remember making silly little mistakes when I was younger, and dad would beat me with the metal end of a belt until I screamed. Then, he'd hit me harder, telling me to stop screaming and go to me room. I couldn't go to my room, of course, because I was on the floor wishing for the pain to end. Mom would be sitting right there in the living room looking at me, and when I got away from him, she'd give me this look like, "You deserved that." ... I don't know if it was abuse. It stopped ... but I don't know ... I can't even talk to people, it's so hard ... I'm afraid to tell my friends anything because I don't know what they'd say. How they'd look at me or my parents. Maybe I'm weak because I can't handle life, because I'm so sick of it ... or selfish, or stubborn, or whatever. It's all true.
And I used to have a brother, who killed himself. It makes me wonder, could he have gone through the same things I have? Why did he do it? With every passing day, I find more clues as to why he killed himself. Once, I woke up to my parents screaming at each other about whose fault it was that he killed himself (some fifteen years ago, mind).
And I don't know why I typed any of this, really. It makes me feel so stupid, trying to let it all out like this, because now it all looks so tiny and unimportant compared to what I've seen ... I guess what I'm trying to ask is, what my parents are doing. Is it some sort of abuse? What should I do, in my situation? Is life really still worth living, when everything is just falling apart like this? I don't know why or how I'm still here today, probably because I'm afraid to do anything ... but this is killing me inside. I feel like I'm only half of what I used to be - I can't bring myself to focus on studying, I can't bring myself to enjoy Friday night football or band rehearsals or the little things I used to enjoy all the time. I can't sleep right anymore (I either sleep too much or too little, but in the end it doesn't matter because I'm still tired during the day). If too many bad things happen in a day, I come home, deal with my parents, and I have to sit at the edge of my bed under the covers shaking and trying hard not to cry, for fear of someone noticing me or the phone ringing or whatever.
I don't know what to do anymore. I just feel so hopeless. I don't even know if I have a future. I used to live off of that, that maybe I'd survive just to prove my parents wrong, but I don't even think I can do that anymore.
Thanks for reading this, if you did. :sad: