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An effect of having strict parents that I don't see talked about very often is when eating feels like stealing.
When I was young, my parents would preach a lot about how food was something to be earned. Even now, I still catch myself wandering around my house, feeling guilty for eating leftovers or chips because I haven't done the laundry or dishes.
Sometimes, I'll go the entire day without eating because I feel guilty about eating food that I feel like I haven't "earned".
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TW: SA / CHILD ABUSE / MENTION OF PREGNANCY
My parents used to make me pay for my own stuff a lot as a kid, and I think they thought it would make me appreciate those thing more. But all it really did was give me money issues and make me cling to anyone that I viewed as an independent source of income since they wouldn't let me get a job.
And some people might think it sounds like im just being a brat, but it wasn't just stuff I wanted like toys or sweets. My last birthday party or anything like that was when I was 10 years old. However, they continued to spend hundreds of dollars every year on my younger sibling's birthday for almost a decade after that. They spent hundreds of dollars a year on clothes, snacks, toys, and school supplies for her, but they would get upset when I asked them to pay for my school supplies because I wasn't old enough to work/they wouldn't let me.
They bought me maybe 5 pieces of clothing a year and only from thrift stores or other cheap sources.
My parents used to get angry at my older brother for planning dinners that they or my younger sibling didn't like, but when they planned dinners, on the few occasions that they did, they would always try to pick something they knew I didn't like.
One of my memories that affected me most, and still does to this day because I'm still trying to learn to love my body because of how much I was fucked up by the way my parents raised me, is when I was eight. I had just gotten a new pretty dress as a gift from my grandfather, and I was so excited. I put on the dress and felt so pretty, for context I was a chubby kid especially around my tummy but never really had any issues with insecurities before this, so being the excited kid I was I went to show my parents my new dress. Only to be quickly greeted by my father declaring loudly, "You shouldn't wear that, you look pregnant." Something that he knew I was terrified of even as an eight year old, my parents made sure of that, was also something that he was so quick to casually use against me.
Another time I remember distinctly was being sat down in the kitchen in front of my father after I had taken too long to do the dishes. He peeled a mango and ate it in front of me, I had not eaten all day, while lecturing me on how, "if you keep acting like this you're gonna end up as some gutter trash whore sucking dick for crack rock." He also licked and spit on the mango peels and then covered me in them and told me, "better get used to it, it will be a lot worse when you end up sleeping in a dumpster." Then he got mad at me for crying.
Not long after that, I was sexually abused for months by a guy in my class, who I still went to school with for years afterwards and he was later arrested for sexually abusing and r wording (sorry i can't bring myself to even type the word) several others and trying to murder several of his family members.
My father made a lot of sexual assault jokes around me after that. He continued to make those jokes well into my late teens.
A lot of you might notice that I haven't talked a lot about my mom yet, that's because she was rarely ever around. When she did interact with me and my older brother, it was mostly to yell at us to take care of the youngest or clean the house. However, there was the time she chased me through the house and beat me with a wooden spoon for swearing at her, I was 12. She hit me so hard that I had bruises for several weeks, a few of which were on my face.
#strict parents#bad parenting#life#family issues#mental illness#mental health#favorite child#favoritism#but it wasn't me#vent post#long reads#tramatized#trama#sorry yall#this kinda got out of hand
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Shout out to the people who show love by sharing who feel like having things taken from them is like a perversion of the way they love and feel like they are being forced to express love for someone who they might not love
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I grow more sick with every day that comes to settle beneath my tongue like the painful sting of a wound that you can't explain other than the simple fact that you were running away
I desperately want to be someone else. Not to make the pain I feel go away but to feel like I am someone worthy of feeling the pain I feel.
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I must admit, i miss you terribly
For all my love and all my pain I could never do enough
Long before I realized, I felt like I had lost you despite being right beside you
Soon all I could think of when I thought of you was losing you
Any time we spent time together all I could do was miss a time I hadn't yet lost, a person that was never mine, mine not like a belonging but devotion
Anyone who says you can not lose something that was never yours has never been in love
I missed you long before I lost you because I always knew I would
#sad poetry#sad love poems#sad poem#sad thoughts#sad love#sad#love#love poetry#i wrote this#i wrote this before i moved away#for my first real love
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I was here
I lived, I loved
And I have you to thank for that
But unfortunately this is goodbye
I love you But I don't want to hurt you
So please know that I'm doing this because I think it's best for both of us
I hope you find someone who makes you as happy as you made me
You understood me more than anyone else ever did
Think of me as dead and let me fade with your grief
#sad love poems#sad poetry#sad poem#sad thoughts#sad#vent post#poetry#i wrote this#i wrote this before i moved away#for my first real love#sad love poetry#sad love#love#love poetry
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I love you so much so that I want to say
I wish my absence haunts you
But I would never want to hurt you the way way I hurt
So instead I say
May my absence bring you no harm
Because what I really want is to know that someone found me worth loving but that is not worth them hurting
So for both our sakes please
Forget me
#sad thoughts#sad poem#sad poetry#poetry#sad#sad love poems#sad love poetry#sad love#love#i wrote this#i wrote this before i moved away#for my first real love
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Because I was the one who had to ask I'm the one who doesn't get a gift
Because I have to request your affection I'm the one who gets the least
I don't try with you because every moment around you is just another reminder that I will never be good enough for you, that you will always love the others more than me
Even as I write this I feel like it's to much about me, like I should be writing about someone else
It may be small for you, something you may not even think about, but I think about it a lot and it hurts. It hurts because I know that you don't know how much it hurts. It hurts because I know why it hurts so much, because I try so hard to hate you and still end up quietly crying wishing you loved me more
You said it yourself "a gift is something given out of love" and yet you deny me it at every turn, something you give so freely to the others. You say "actions speak louder than words" but your actions tell me that everything you say to me is a lie, and I don't think you even know you're lying. And I don't know what hurts more the idea that you know how I feel or the Idea that you don't, that I'm so insignificant that you can't even be bothered to think about how you affect me.
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I think a lot of the daydreams young men have about fighting things to save their school/friends/crush can be linked to emotional neglect and deeply rooted self-esteem issues that lead them to believe that extreme situations that would give them accomplishments beyond the capability of most people is the only way they will get recognition/praise/love on the level that they need.
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Our main caretakers in our system are:
a 300 year old doll named Sam, who is missing part of his left leg
and a sweet cottagecore, tradwife-esq woman in her 30s who is in a lesbian-passing relationship with our main sexual protector
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My dad tried to tell me that he thinks I'm faking my mental disabilities because I think it will make things easier. And I just had to sit there and wonder how he came to think that disabilities make anything easier.
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You know, I think it says a lot that my dad used to threaten to shave my head as a punishment, but now that I want to, he is all "but think of the consequences".
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