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@myparentsarefighting
Listening to your parents argue is one thing. Listening to your mother vent to you about how she feels he doesn’t listen to her, or how your father hates how she never wants to go out. I get it I’m the oldest & a good listener but it’s killing me. They need to work on their issues together not like middle schoolers gossiping behind each other’s back.
So a little over a week ago my mom came over to talk to me about my dad. I explained to her what happened and stuck to my guns that I don’t care how much “pain” my dad is in, child abuse is never okay.
She came back a few days later to say that my story didn’t match up with his–this implication being that my story was wrong. I reiterated what I’d said before: that she had a choice to believe the abuser or the abused, but his reasons don’t change the wrongness of what he did.
“He said you got in his face and screamed ‘Fuck you,’ and that when he held you down it was because you were trying to run away.”
“I’ve already stated that I didn’t get in his face and scream that, but even if I did it wouldn’t justify hitting a child less than half his size in the face. Second, I’m pretty sure running away from someone who just committed violence against you is a perfectly normal and rational reaction. Trapping an abuse victim with her abuser, however….”
She says she wants us all to go to counseling together, which I’m …. unsure of, at best. My parents have a habit of individually showing up to my house when I’m in disagreement with the other in order to try and convince me of whatever it is they want.
“Your dad doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what he says when he shows up after I disagree with you.”
“Well, I’ve never sent him over so he was telling the truth. He’d be upset if he knew I was here now.”
“He says that too. You guys are really good at tag-teaming this thing. I actually expected you to show up a few days earlier.”
They’d also be the ones paying whoever the counselor is, and I didn’t hear any talk of it being anyone but the three of us. Maybe they want my sister to come too, but I don’t think that makes me feel any more at ease. I’ve never had a good counseling or therapy session ever, so we can start there. Honest introspection has done way more for me than talking to some jerk in a chair who doesn’t actually listen to the words I’m using anyway.
(…”I won’t even go down a grocery store aisle with someone else in it because they always end up in the way and I don’t want to have to talk to anyone.”
“Why don’t you just say ‘excuse me’ if they’re in the way?”
“I literally just said I didn’t want to talk to them.”
“Well, that’s not really talking…”
“Um, yes it is. When words come out of your mouth, it is called ‘talking,’ which is why I used that word.”)
But also, I’m a grown up now. I shouldn’t have to attend counseling with my parents. Right? Like, that’s really flipping weird, right? I mean, I guess I can see how one should view it as a good thing–my family loves me and they want us to have a good relationship–but it feels an awful lot like they’re trying to keep or get control.
If anyone who knows nothing about my life and is therefore outside of my head completely wants to offer perspective, I’m open to hearing it. Doubt anyone made it this far in my ramblings, though. :)
i know where youre coming from to a certain extent. neither of my parents are very violent but the pyschological abuse is monumental. I recently moved out and the distance i’ve placed between myself and them really put into perspective how destructive that relationship was and still has the potential to be.
the only real advice i can give you ---since I myself am still trying to find my bearings--is to weigh your options and understand that the only person you really need to answer to is yourself. if the relationship with them is more harmful than it is good, change that relationship. if in order to change it you need to not see them as much any more, then so be it.
this sounds harsh but one day they will be dead and gone and you’ll be by yourself. and yeah it’ll be sad to not talk to your parents any more (i’ve contemplated this and frankly am very tempted to cut mine off entirely, we’ll see how christmas goes this year). IF you want to keep them around, is it because you want to be with them or is it because you think you have to because they’re your parents? because loving someone doesnt mean you have to like them and certainly doesnt mean you have to keep them around. I love dairy but it gives me diarrhea so i dont eat it.
parents are people and that is probably the most earthshattering thing a person learns as they come to adulthood. i realized the first time my mother had been lying to me about just about everything (she took thousands of dollars from me over the years, saying my dad wasnt supporting her when in reality she was taking his money too) that you dont become awesome once you procreate and you certainly dont need to do any interviews or testing to get to become a parent. my mother in a fit of rage and mental breakdown waved a gun around and threatened to blow her brains out, rather than call the cops or an ambulance, my dad called me to come rescue him and when i refused to answer the phone (i’d moved out by that point) he disowned me. Great guy.
Youre stuck with who your parents are. and if they wont change and they’re making you be in pain, then its time to put yourself first.
It is a terrible misconception that society pressures us to talk to our parents when they really don't make us feel all that great after the
A verbal abuse victim often …
distrusts their spontaneity and suffers a loss of enthusiasm
lives in a perpetually in a ready, on-guard state
wonders about how they are coming across
thinks and feels that something is wrong with [them]
soul-searches and reviews incidents in hope of determining “what went wrong”
hears only [their] internalized critical voice
suffers from anxiety or fear of being crazy
wishes [they were] not the way [they are] – “too sensitive”, etc.
is hesitant to accept [their] perceptions
tends to live in the future – “everything will be great when/after”, etc.
has a distrust of future relationships
Evans, P. (1996). The verbally abusive relationship: how to recognize it and how to respond (Expanded 2nd ed.). Holbrook, Mass.: Adams Media Corporation.
Reblog if you believe Sex and Nudity should not be shamed.
I hate when parents would say this.
Credit to Chrish. Go check out his videos. They are hilarious.
https://vine.co/Chrish
I'm 28 years old and my arguments with my mother devolve into that.
Parents
Parents need to understand that just because you’re the parent doesn’t mean you’re not also the bully.
Reblog if your parents have ever made you feel worthless, useless, stupid, or unloved
That’s not okay, you are all worth so much. You are special and smart and talented and unique and kind and loved. Your parents do not define you. Remember that.
You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions. You are not your parent’s possessions.
You are 17 and fire pits are growing in the palms of your hands. The feeling of anger; it burns through skin. It was never meant to be subdued. Fists like lighter fluid connect with walls of chaos and sound until you swear you are tasting stars. Remember the blazing fire raging in your childhood bedroom, how your mothers voice cut through the flames. Remember the taste of ashes and the smell of rotting flesh. Your father telling you your hair looks best when up in flames. You are 17 and fire pits have been growing in the palms of your hands for a while now. It is only a matter of time until it all burns.
I find things to cope. Drinking, nicotine, sex. Anything to get this pain out. Like emotional vomit.
Growing up, there was not a night that went by in my house without raised voices, tear-stained cheeks, and all-around bad feelings. It’s almost a miracle that my parents are still together. I say “almost,” because it’s possible it would have been better for everyone if they had split.
How My Parents’ Bad Marriage Helped Make Mine Successful
(via refinery29)
hi, my name’s anxiety and I’m here to ruin your life! but don’t worry, we will be the best of friends! the best friend you never wanted to have! perks of having me as your friend are as follows: I’ll always be at your side to keep you from achieving all you want in life! don’t worry, you’ll never be able to order food for yourself again! you’ll have to get someone else to do that for you. because you’d rather pretend to be mute than talk to a stranger. everytime you need to speak in public you’ll choke up and never be able to talk to anybody except people you already know! isn’t that great? oh don’t worry; it gets better! everytime you’re in public you’ll think of everything that could ever go wrong maybe you’ll even have an anxiety attack! never had heart palpitations? don’t worry, I got you covered! never been light headed to the point of having to sit down? let’s experience that for the first time together! me and you, buddy, we will go through everything together!
a friend called anxiety (via thepoetryboy)
I am too much like my brother In the way that my anxiety mirrors his and the way that we are afraid of the same things. Our thoughts are almost entirely opposite He thinks in sentences, with logic. I think in fragments, with incomplete thoughts. I think I am too much like my brother Our anxiety started junior year of high school. We could never stand up for ourselves. We threatened to call child protective services. I am too much like my brother. And I wish I wasn’t. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up together.
thoughts of the day // s.e. (via thepoetryboy)
the only thing I fear more than myself is my mother some days I swear that she will be the death of me more so than I will. I see the disappointment in her eyes and the anger in her mouth. some days I swear she will kill me. she has threatened over and over again and some days I believe her. I have my safe space without her. but yet I am still afraid. some days I am afraid of neither her or myself, and those are my most self destructive days. because I am not walking on egg shells at home and I will regret it the day after. some days, like today, I get the help I have been asking for. and I no longer need to be afraid.
fear of life // s.e. (via thepoetryboy)
she loves me, but not in the way I need. not in the way anybody needs.
she loves me, she loves me not // s.e. (via thepoetryboy)
why is it not acceptable to hate the one who gave birth to me? she has hurt me more than helped me. she hasn’t loved me in the way she needs to. don’t tell me I need to love her. if she won’t love me with no exceptions, I will not love her invariably.
thoughts // s.e. (via thepoetryboy)
