#im begging and pleading to my parents and theyre saying no but like. i am going to keep begging and pleading | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teashadephoenix · 2 years

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I looked up an old friend today, for no real reason other than I thought of her randomly. (Actually it was her birthday four days ago. Maybe that’s why she was lurking in the dark parts of my brain.)

Things did not end well between this person and I. We were friends for eight years. Most of that time was spent “breaking up” bc she was the type of person who lost interest in me if she got a boyfriend, and she had to have a boyfriend, but she had bad judgment (like everybody does when youre 17) so they would cheat on her or were bad boyfriends, or whatever. So she’d dump them and come be my friend again-- for a few months, until she forgave the boyfriend or found a new one. This was exacerbated by the fact that even when we were hanging out, we fought. I couldn’t tell you what we ever fought about, but I do know that I wrote letter after letter telling her I was done with being treated badly and that I didn’t want to be friends with her anymore. But she always managed to find a way back in.

It wasn’t until after my mom died and I ventured into the adult world that I really saw how abusive she was. She talked down to me. She talked over me. My opinions were worthless. She had no respect for my beliefs (she was always trying to convert me to Christianity by way of “casually” reminding me I was going to Hell if I didn’t.) She was openly homophobic at a time in which I was just beginning to really question my own sexuality. I knew I would never be able to be honest with this person --who called herself my best friend-- about who I was. I’ve also referred to this person occasionally when talking about my asexuality journey, because she was the one who kept trying to set me up on blind dates and could not accept that I was happy being single. (Which, I get. I get that it’s hard to understand where someone is coming from when it’s so different from your own place. But that’s literally part of being a compassionate human being: accepting others’ differences even if you maybe don’t fucking get it.)

There is just... so much damage that this person did to me, that still affects me today. She was my first real brush with a Christian who wasn’t my mother, and she’s laid the foundation for all the Christians who followed her. I still have a hard time trusting people who say theyre Christian, bc I know no matter how much I beg and plead for them not to, the conversion attempts will follow. She is why I have a hard time talking things out when I am frustrated, why I simply let things fester in resentment-- because I couldn’t discuss any problem that arose between us without calling a guilt trip down on my own head. Any criticisms were mortal wounds to her ego, and she played the victim until I was apologising for bringing it up. I know the narcissist’s handbook now but 16 years ago I did not. She’s probably the reason I don’t like having people in my house, because she used to come over and stay nine, ten hours, and of course I couldn’t ask her to go home, because she would take it personally. (And no, before you ask, I did not have any other friends. I had been convinced, a little bit by her and mostly by my own self, that I was bad with people and couldn’t make other friends, so I had to hang on to the one that I had.)

Even just writing this out is bringing back the anxiety that I used to feel when she’d texted to say she was on her way to my house. I haven’t seen her in years and it’s as real as it was the last day I saw her. And I’m so fake, even now, with people. I can have so much anger and frustration boiling under the surface and you’d never know because Im so used to pretending everything is fine.

Anyway, all this to say:

It isn’t just parents or romantic partners that can hurt you. How we relate to people is built by all the people we know, parents, teachers, regular faces in the crowd. And friends. That is how we learn how to people, by being with people.

And anybody can abuse you, especially when you trust them not to. Friends have a special key to your heart and you must be wary who you let in there.

Because friends who talk down to you are not your friends. Friends who make you feel afraid to be who you are are not your friends. Friends who give you anxiety attacks at the mere idea of them coming over are not your friends.

But if you let them have a key, they can trash the place and you are the one left picking up the mess. Sometimes that shit takes years. Sometimes you can think it’s okay, that everything’s back where it’s supposed to go, and then you remember it’s their birthday and everything just upends itself off a table.

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wherestarsfallaway · 7 years

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A Letter That'll Never Get Sent

K. So. Unsurprisingly after another family outing. Im in tears?

And its hard because there are times where its so good. And its really easy to be happy. And so I think... did I make it all up? Am i actually being a dramatic freak? Gods my parents are actually pretty cool.

And then it hits again. Like a freight train. It slams into me and leaves me so utterly shattered.

And then i remember.. reading an article about emotional abuse. That just because it isnt happening all the time. Doesnt mean it isnt there. And thats what makes it so hard for ppl to recognize and for people to extricate themselves from the situation.

But lets get to why im suffering this time.

Or rather. Why you're suffering so much. Apparently.

Because you always manage to turn it into wow there goes dramatic overemotional attention seeking _____. Gods I cant believe we can never get a word in before _____ just starts crying again. And that leads to more tears. Because I hate being misunderstood. Belittled. And interpreted to be less than i am. It. Hurts. To. Be. Invalidated

You constantly write me off as so fragile and delicate that youre AFRAID to say a single word cuz youre scared I'm gonna cry.

K. First of all. I just wanna say. I am afraid of you for the EXACT same reason. Im afraid to deviate from our daily set plan of "How was your day?" "Oh it was good." Because youll actually get mad at me for having emotions. Like if i answer to the above statemrnt with "It was really bad." You immediately tell me that I am such a complaining lazy daughter and that I can learn to deal with my own problems. And thats the simple stuff. Im afraid to tell you my actual deeper emotions. Because youll be angry. And thats... scary. See. At least when I get upset. All i do is cry. But you. You yell. And scream. And fight. And cut. And shatter me.

I cant tell you that youre hurting me.

Because that'll make you fight me more.

I cant tell you that youre breaking me.

Because thatll make you cut deeper.

I cant tell you that youre the reason.

Because thatll make you shatter me.

Somehow when I have emotions. Even when u tell me theyre "unpleasant" in the least. You somehow dont seem to care at the same time.

Lemme explain. I could tell you im seconds from killing myself. And the truth is. It doesnt matter.

If i tell you right now that im seconds from killing myself. Youll turn it back on me and say Gods how can you be so fuckin selfish. You know. I used to wanna kill myself too. But i dont do it. And i definitely dont put it on blast. Cant believe you would

And im stunned. I dont know what to say to that. Because for a split second. I was actually... thinking. Wow. I CANT believe im thst selfish. Never again will I have the thoughtless thought of wanying to commit suicide. Im so sorry I am haunting your dreams with that thought.

Like.

Of course aloud it sounds stupid that I would actually think my suicidalness is a burden on you.

But in my head this is reality. And more often than not. I tell myself Im ok and smile at you to stop your "pain".

If youre pretending so much and so often than surely youd be surprised how much im doing it too.

And I just wanna say that you definitely don't cry while doing it.

But I do.

I cry and cry and cry til im tasting blood from my heart tearing.

And then. This is the kicker but while im crying from the overwhelming sensation of being reduced to dust. You somehow gaslight me into thinking. My crying. Is an inconvenice. To you. To the point where I feel humiliated and ashamed of my tears. Because I dont wanna hurt you. And make you sad to see me cry. Well if it hurts you so bad. Why dont you do a single damn thing to stop it

Also have you ever considered that crying does things to me?

How do you manage to write off my tears as an overemotional teenager every single time? Like actually. You make it seem like my tears are worthless too.

Well i heard you cry once. And it chilled me so hard i almost had a panic attack. It made my hands cold and my stomach hit the floor and i rushed in there and begged and pleaded for forgiveness.

But when i cry in front of you. You just sigh and say.. here we go again.

Yeah. Well you're right. Here we go again.

And we do. We ride this shitty shitty carousel of being hurt and broken and you dont give a damn.

#selftalk

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