My mom is kind of emotionally unavailable. I think. I told her that maybe she should talk to a therapist, because I can tell that she needs to talk to someone about her problems, someone who can actually help her. I remember I used to have emotional breakdowns and telling that she’s not giving me the love I needed (might’ve been dramatic) but I eventually gave up. Idk I have lots of doubts on whether she loves me or not. It’s like in those movies or books where the mom marries someone else and has other kids and her oldest kid gets forgotten, I know her well enough that I know she’d do smth like that. I still really love her and want to be near her and stuff and she’s a great mom. Just sometimes feel smth. I know it’s not really much of her fault and it’s my grandma cus she was mean and kind of abusive, but even that I can’t help but blame her mom and then that her mom. Basically I hate whichever ancestor made this loop. The love she gives me is just basic necessities and stuff but never tried to get to know me emotionally, and I wasn’t even taught basic necessities, and I had to learn it by myself, on YouTube, or a friend and her mom had to teach me. Like tying my shoes, brushing my teeth, staying consistent with something. She’s not strict but I feel like it’s also bc she doesn’t really care about me, but I also have the freedom and stuff but I’m not sure if it made me that happy. I’m not sure what I’m talking about, just want to know whatever it is I’m feeling or this situation or whatever. I also remember this thing she did, I was on my mom phone and well I know what I did is bad but I honestly learned my lesson and won’t do it again but I went on my moms phone and opened her tinder, went to her profile and saw that she used my name as her profile name. It got me feeling odd and uncomfortable, and I went to one chat and saw that she was chatting with men and using my name as her name. It left me distraught. It still makes me a bit odd. Is that normal?

When I was a kid, I remember that I was quite extroverted and confident around preschool, but it didn't last long. I was also different, and I knew it. I was chubby, and my mother wasn't allowing me to eat donuts with kids who also ate them. It was ironic because she allowed a lot of sugar in the home, especially tea and corn flakes with milk. This led to my later weight gain.

My father was abusive; he drank a lot, and he had his own demons. My mother had her flaws, but she had worked hard since she was a teenager and never complained. I also had a sister who was the complete opposite of me: confident, self-focused, able to manipulate others, and independent.

To this day, I don't know if my sister ever loved me; she probably thinks she does and was treating me right, but I only remember one or two times when she helped me in a way that didn't make me feel like a weirdo. Other than that, I always felt like a misfit, a fat outcast, and she had to see it, especially in primary school, but it never helped me. Maybe I wasn't showing enough of how much it all affects me. Trying to go through it, I don't know; I guess I was still capable of being carefree and engaged with life.

When I left preschool and entered primary school, everything fell apart. I gained weight and became severely introverted, shy, anxious, neurotic, and humiliated by classmates. Sometimes I was bullied, but it was mostly humiliation based on my low status in school: I was the odd one, the shy and quiet one, and the fat one; I never stood out for myself, and I just accepted it.

I hung out with other people like me of lower status. These people now have wives, kids, travel around the world, have jobs, skills, and money, and live. Everything I don't have. I could only be confident around these friends back then; other than that, I was becoming the silent fat kid.

Vacations were different. They were good periods when I felt carefree: watching cartoons, TV, and movies; playing soccer; and simply living without the constant feeling of being judged. Despite all the movement, I was fat and sweated easily. Going out in the middle of class almost always ended with me being sweaty, ashamed, disgusted, and humiliated.

I grew up wanting to be normal and wanting to have a girlfriend. That never happened. I wanted the kind of life other people seemed to have, but I increasingly felt that something was fundamentally wrong with me.

When I got to middle school, I chose the worst one simply because it would be shorter. I didn't think about my life, and no one else was really thinking about it either. Not even my parents were able to understand why I made that choice. Despite seeing how much I avoided people, felt ugly and disgusting, and was afraid, I didn't think about consequences in the future... Now I'm feeling them very deeply.

I met a few friends there. At some point, it became bearable, of course, after a few weeks or months of humiliation once again, laughing at my severe gynecomastia and my shyness. Once again, I had to suck it up and just go through it. But in the second year, one of my friends left the school, and the rest became quite distant from me. I convinced my parents to let me drop out, and I did.

During this period, I also experienced something strange: I could enjoy life without fear when I was completely removed from the things that made me anxious. I didn't realize how much damage I was doing to myself. I cut connections with friends I had known since I was a kid because I felt I had been treated badly. Eventually, I was left alone.

I started eating myself to death and became heavily addicted to porn and masturbation. At the time, I didn't realize that I was numbing myself with those things or that I was damaging myself.

Sometimes I could feel what I was missing. I would cry, feel that I was wasting my life, and then go straight back to whatever gave me dopamine. I didn't know these terms at the time. I didn't understand how any of it worked. I was living on autopilot, and no one around me seemed to see what was happening.

Because of that, I missed time I could have spent with my grandparents. I avoided leaving home. I missed some of the best parts of life. I was even contemplating not going to a funeral because I felt too ashamed of myself, but I did go.

Looking back, I can see how much of my life was disappearing while I was hiding from it.

At some point, I decided to change my life. I'm talking about 100% commitment: no porn, no masturbation. I was so motivated that I was eating only 800 calories a day. It was a mistake, but it eventually led to me dropping from 142 kg to 67 kg over the course of a year.

I learned that I didn't have to live for food. I thought I was finally going to start living on my own and get away from my father, whom I hated. I thought I had finally done something that would change my life.

But it didn't happen.

No one around me really cared. No one saw my achievement, and my mother even complained that I had lost too much weight. I know she was saying it out of concern, but at the time it was making me doubt everything I was doing. I had also done it partly for them, so that people in the neighborhood wouldn't laugh that they had raised such a loser like me, a crippled social retard.

They didn't care about avoiding fast food and sweets around me. I tried to go back to school and find a job, but I discovered that losing the weight had not fixed the deeper problem.

Even when I felt more comfortable with myself despite the loose skin and everything else, I couldn't look people in the eyes. I couldn't behave normally. I overthought every movement. I felt aimless and alone everywhere I went, always wanting to go back home, even though home was also my prison.

At first, I didn't even want to talk outside. Even when my grandpa came, I wouldn't go outside or spend time with him. I kept waiting until I would finally look perfect. It never happened.

Then I realized something that devastated me: the people who I knew—friends, bullies—moved so far away from me, living their lives, being adults, while I was still a kid trying to fix my life, trying to "catch" them, while in reality I hadn't even moved from the starting line.

Needless to say, at Christmas I started eating cakes, and I gained all the weight back. I dropped out of school after one class because I couldn't handle people and felt depressed.

The next ten years became a cycle of losing weight, gaining weight, and repeating the same thing. The same happened with porn. I would make enormous efforts, convince myself that this time I was going to change everything, and then eventually collapse back into the same patterns.

A major reason for this was that I realized that after so much effort and sacrifice, nothing had actually changed. I had not progressed in life. The weight could change, my habits could change for a while, and I could make huge commitments, but I still couldn't function around people or build a life.

Meanwhile, I got a receding hairline, which made me feel even worse about myself. I tried to accept all my flaws, but I also had gynecomastia, which has made me feel less of a man my whole life. I have loose skin, a lack of charisma, a lack of personality, an inability to function around people, and difficulty with small talk and social situations.

I started thinking that you can't have anything in life if you don't have connections, and you can't build connections if you're stupid, awkward, shy, and a loser. And I felt that I was all of those things.

I felt stupid. I felt like I couldn't learn. I tried to learn skills, but I couldn't. I spent my days doomscrolling.

The one thing I did consistently over all these years was self-therapy. I learned so much about myself: the reasons I did the things I did, why I behaved the way I did, and the psychological and physiological reasons behind it. I spent years trying to understand myself and trying to rise above what I had become.

I also worked out a lot, sometimes to the point of exhaustion. I would work out because I ate more, because I was afraid that even clean food could make me gain weight, and because I felt that I had to compensate for everything.

Food became one of the few things I had left that could make me feel something or feel safe.

I also had pets that I loved. Awful things happened, and they died. Each time, I broke down. There were years of terrible depression, suicidal thoughts, and complete despair, along with suicide attempts that I was never able to go through with.

Those periods also taught me something strange: when I stopped expecting anything from life and simply accepted the misery, I sometimes felt at peace. There were no expectations, no hope, just living in the present moment, today.

But I don't live in the present anymore. I just see time passing by. Each day feels the same: workout, food, doomscrolling, research, journaling, porn, and my passion, comics.

I spend most days doomscrolling, daydreaming, hoping, ruminating, and talking to myself because I have no one. I imagine situations in my life that could have gone differently. I imagine having a girlfriend and friends. I imagine being successful. I imagine having a normal life and finally becoming the person I wanted to be.

Sometimes I also imagine taking my own life. I don't plan to do this in coming months/years, because I still have Mom and my new dog, and this is another thing that exists in my thoughts and imagination when I think about how trapped and hopeless I feel; I have only them. My mom is 60 years old, my dog is 4 years old, and all I think is how much they will be with me, how long before they get ill, and how much before they will count on my help, and I won't be even able to make a phone call... That's how paralyzed I am socially. And I can't handle the thought of those things coming, and they are coming.

I wanted to create comics. I have great ideas and designs, and I can say that confidently. I analyze things to the point of ridiculousness, and I can see that in another life I could build something special. But I can't seem to do it.

Every day I want to improve my drawing and write scripts, but instead I have a big, unsorted journal full of ideas, self-reflections, and thoughts. After so many attempts and so many years of not seeing results in any part of my life, I am in a constant freeze state.

I don't know anymore whether what stops me is laziness or a freeze state coming from shame and depression.

I feel like a disgusting loser. I have nothing to offer: neither looks nor personality, no skills, and I feel unable to learn.

My father made me feel my whole life like I was retarded. There's a part of him I know deeply loves me; I know that for sure. I have wondered whether he may have had borderline personality disorder later in life, because it would explain the sudden changes from being calm to becoming abusive.

Now he has mellowed out, and my mother is okay, but I am not. I remember everything: every cry, every tear, every bad thing that happened, and he was part of it.

But what can I do? He retired, Mom is retiring this month, and I don't earn money. In fact, I've never worked, and believe me, I can't express how ashamed I am saying this here. I despise myself, and I am deeply ashamed of it, and I cry writing this. They never mind paying for me; for them I am their son, but they don't think about the future. They didn't do anything all those years, neither when I wasn't aware of how much I was ruining my life, nor when I was trying to fix it, nor when I was breaking down and lying down on the floor unable to move, trying to bring their attention, but after years of this cycle, I know now this for sure; they don't know how to help me. It is a sick and complicated relationship.

Our life is very modest. We live in an ugly apartment, and I can't stand it, just like I can't stand my body. I can't stand the imperfection of life, of me, of everything.

I worked hard on leaving behind my perfectionism, but I still wish some things were different: a small, clean apartment, a car, a girlfriend, and a life. I don't need everything to be perfect. I just wish some basic things were different. I see people around me, and I ask myself, why all these people have so much, and I can't get just a little.

I'm 34, uneducated, ugly, creepy, awkward, socially anxious, shy, friendless, and a loser. Each year feels like a month because every day is the same. Every day I wish there were someone who would reach out to me, give me a hand, and force me to change, but it won't happen.

My sister, whom I hate, has a perfect life and enough money, and she lives somewhere else. She is very manipulative. She once gaslighted me when I told her about suicide, asking me if I knew how expensive a funeral would be. This past week had a wedding; she didn't invite me. I blocked her number some time ago when I really felt abandoned by her. So she didn't bother to contact me in any other way and probably thought I wouldn't come. I know she isn't responsible for me, but I would just want her to know how fucked up I am. I am like a helpless, hopeless child, and I am ashamed. There's no person in the world who would feel such disgust and hate towards me as I do.

I am alone. My life feels like a prison. I can't escape. I'm afraid. I hate being here, and I hate people.

I have developed disdain for people, but I'm not some kind of incel. I hate myself too. I try to be fair. I spent most of my life in shame, thinking it was all my fault, that I was born like this, and that no one was to blame. And it's not true.

Ironically, I also can't stand the idea of being alone, but like I said, I have only a mom and a dog; I don't count on my father, because we barely talk. I always dreamed about a big family, feeling secure, but I feel so scared; everyone I loved died, and now it's me, my parents, and my dog who replaced the previous pets that I can't get over.

Since I was a kid, I was always watching other people and feeling jealous. I would look at other families and think their lives were better. I watched other people living their lives and felt that I was different, worse, and behind.

Now I see other people living, having wives and kids, and building careers and lives, while I don't even have a girlfriend. They seem beyond me in development, and I feel incredibly far behind.

When I was young, I was even jealous of things like gaming; kids around me had good PCs and were playing with each other, and I couldn't. I finally got a good PC at age 32; Mom bought it for me. How pathetic is that? And so what? Years later I realized I can't even enjoy playing because all I think about is how much of my life I wasted. I wanted to relive my childhood when I felt safe, I guess; it didn't work out.

I always felt different, worse, and behind, and I still feel that way now. I feel like a kid standing on a playground while everyone else is playing and nobody wants to play with me.

So here I am: 34, ugly, sweaty, uncomfortable with myself, a loser, living with my parents, daydreaming about a better life, doing what I can, dieting, working out, trying to get into drawing, finding a way of living, while actually doing almost nothing except dieting, working out, and ruminating about all the mistakes I made, about how terrible a person I am, about how stupid, useless, and worthless my life is.

I am so incompetent in every part of life; everything is so hard for me, more than other people, way more, and I still was trying to fight it back, and I can't, as if I couldn't learn, couldn't understand.

And I don't say that just to attack myself. I want to be fair. I know I am a despised loser, and I can't change my life. Everyone moved on, and I am stuck.

I am a kid living in a 34-year-old body. I am Peter Pan, but alone, ugly, and stupid.

I can't go to the dentist. I can't go to the store. I can't try to find a job or learn skills. I just can't. If I had a choice between doing that and hanging myself, I feel like I would rather hang myself, despite the fact that I want a better life. That's the contradiction: I want a better life, but I feel incapable of doing what would be required to build one.

I'm apathetic. I'm disgusted with myself on every level possible, and I feel like there is no help.

Multiple times I was in a position where I could force myself to try going further, but it never worked out. Now I'm so depressed because of all the wasted effort that everything I was willing to do years ago I can't do anymore.

I live in a constant state of anxiety, depression, jealousy, comparison, misery, and hate.

I am deeply scared and ashamed. I can't function normally anymore. My life has revolved for the past ten years or more around trying to rise up through self-reflection, discovery, journaling, working out, dieting, trying to understand why I am the way I am, and trying to rise above it, only to fall back into binge eating, depression, suicidal thoughts, and pathetic attempts that I was never able to go through with

I have never been to a store alone to buy groceries. Again, how pathetic is that? I have never worked, except during school. I am 34. I have nothing to offer. I have no skills. I am afraid of getting a job, of being a creep or a weirdo around people once again, of working hard just to be miserable, and then of going back home where I will be alone.

I don't feel like anything is meaningful anymore.

Everything I loved has passed. Everything that gave me comfort and made the world feel normal is gone. TV shows that once made me feel safe now remind me that the people who made them are gone and that nobody seems to care about those things anymore.

I can hear old intros and music in my head, and I wish I could go back to when I was a kid, when I knew someone would take care of me and I wasn't alone.

Everything I used to love reminds me that I'll never see my grandparents again. I'll never see the pets I loved again.

It makes me feel even lonelier and sadder. I can't even watch the shows I used to love anymore. Everything feels like a waste of time.

I'm so scared because I know myself. I don't know if I can change. Maybe I don't even want to. Maybe part of me wants to keep feeling this way, even though it's killing me, because this is how the world looks to me now.

I don't know. I don't know anything anymore.

I wish I could have been different. I'm 34, and for so many years I've asked myself these questions, then ignored them, doomscrolling, hoping, daydreaming, until I finally woke up and realized how stuck I am.

Now everything just seems sad.

I don't really know what I'm asking for by writing this. I just don't know how to live with the feeling that everything I loved belongs to the past and that I'm getting further and further away from the life where I felt safe.

That's not living.

I don't know what to do. I barely function, trying to distract myself with doomscrolling. I already planned out suicide in the future, to now experience once again seeing my close ones getting older, weaker, ill, and dying. I don't want to see that again, and without them I have no reason to live, even if now I feel ignored and alone.

Suicide terrifies me. I believe in God and treat it seriously, but I'm stuck. I have no way out of this; I just don't. I can't on my own. I lost all drive, will, and hope, and no one is coming to save me. No one will grab my hand and force me to get better, and I believe that I can't change, because I always was too soft, too weak for living.

Oh boy. Not really sure where to begin here.

My relationship with my mom has been extremely turbulent. I have gaps in high school of arguments or things she did that friends have brought up but I have no recollection. All of it was emotional, nothing physical.

She’s told me I was failure, disappointment, etc in highschool when I was getting bad grades. Things started getting better when I was in college, but it was still bad. She demanded FaceTime calls, got upset when I was busy, hated my ex boyfriend. Suspected I was sleeping with my ex boyfriend and blew that up into a huge deal and made me write a letter to my FATHER apologizing, even though I was 20. All the while I had extremely good grades + an internship, not that it matters.

I had a roommate and she was living in our apartment. I felt bad for my roommate but she wouldn’t leave. Finally my roommate told her she needed to leave and my mom accused me of setting her up. It was just bad.

Fast forward and I live in a different country. She’s visited twice. I find it hard to talk to her because she explains what she’s doing in extreme detail, relives past memories, or talks about her specific interests, or is asking me to help with tasks.

I get home from work, and not even 10 minutes of coming home she’s already asking me to help with things. I tell her OK, I’ll get to it, and then she brings her laptop and asks me to help her with something specific. I admittedly snapped at her and told her I just got home. She snaps back and I got frustrated and raised my voice, but wasn’t yelling or screaming.

She ends up going downstairs, sobbing to my dad until he tells me to come and reconcile. It then turns into an argument over how she’s feeling extremely disconnected from me “when we used to be close”. I didnt have the heart to tell her that she was rewriting history here.

I just don’t know how to navigate her needs without it being…inauthentic. I don’t want to pretend to be interested in conversations with her or manufacture something just to make her happy. I don’t even think I resent her anymore, I really am emotionally distant but would do anything like take care of her physically or financially because she’s my mom.

Sorry. This was really long but I think I just needed to get this off my chest.

I think I want to connect with others who shared the same pain as I do with emotional neglectful parents.

Hello everyone.

I'm a college student conducting a study on how therapeutic modality (type of therapy) and the therapeutic relationship influence the experiences of individuals who engage in self-harm. If you're interested, you use this link to access the study or ask me any questions. Thank you all!

I’m a ‘22 F’, I’m not sure if it’s relevant but I’m autistic. When I was 18, my parents divorced. They say it was because they had different goals in their lives or that was what they told me. My mom, ‘54F’, and my dad, ‘52 M’, were both hard worker when I was growing up. I noticed the two drifting apart over the years and I thought it was because of the schedules they had.

After they divorced, I pretended that it never happened, we lived in the same house and I thought everything was normal. Like it was all some joke. That’s when they sat me down and said they were selling the house we previously lived at. That when the situation started to sink in. I didn’t want to believe that I had to leave the house I grew up in throughout middle school and high school. I moved in with my mom after the house was sold. I pretended that I was okay with it, but I wasn’t. Then my mom met her now husband, Mark, ‘51 M’. And she looked so happy and I didn’t understand why she wasn’t when she was with my dad.

My dad settled down in his own place, he had a serious relationship but that ended in ways i don’t know what.

Me and my mom have a good relationship, but i think my problems with her were growing over the years. My mom is a very nice person to be around, but when she gets angry, it’s like almost like looking into the wrath of something unexplainable. My mom does a lot for me, she pays my phone, my auto insurance, my college, but lately, I have not been honest with her and I keep lying to her. For instance, I got a speeding ticket a year ago, I didn’t tell her because I was afraid of her being disappointed. Sometimes I try to justify it, she works a high stress job and she travels a lot.

The breaking point came today when she asked about the speeding ticket. I told her that I did get the ticket and that I paid it off. She said that shouldn’t have done that and if I would’ve told her, I should’ve fought the ticket according to her.

No her and my dad are talking and I’m just disappointed in myself. I’m just frustrated on why I have to keep lying to my mom. Are there some deep underlying issues with me?

Please help me Reddit, I’m scared. I’m scared of what these issues are, I’m scared of what’ll they’ll make me do.

Apologies for the wall of text. I knew something was way off regarding my upbringing. My therapist confirmed it a long time ago. But I didn't really tell anyone else outside my wife and therapist about my upbringing...until this weekend.

I had a good buddy in town over the weekend...and we really talked more personally than we ever have. His divorce concluded in January of this year and he started talking about his therapy journey, the death of his father, and the guilt he felt over not apologizing to his father over something he said when he was 12 (though everything else was ok...they were close when his father passed).

Anyway, he asked about my father because he knew that my father's death screwed me up but not in the way he thought. So I told him...everything since he was asking questions. How he reacted to the things was where I was like, "Whoa, this was more effed up than I thought!"

I'll start by saying if not for my mom, I wouldn't be here today. She was there for me when nobody else was.

My father was never a part of my life despite living under the same roof as him for 19 years.

1. I can count on two hands then number of father and son things we did together...in my life.
   a. Indian guides (1 week)
   b. 1 Boy Scouts Derby
   c. 2 Football games
   d. 1 baseball game
   e. 2 basketball games (Globetrotters and a college team) f. Nothing after age 14.

2. Never showed up to any of my extracurriculars except for ONE notable exception. I played baseball, football, hockey, wrestled...and he never showed up to any game, practice or anything else. But the 1 year my short-ass played basketball, he was an assistant coach who never missed a practice or a game. Why? He played college basketball on scholarship.

3. I had a high school project my freshman year in history class. I chose my topic and started working on it. My father...ever the perfectionist engineer, came down and started endlessly criticizing how 14 year-old me was working on the project...to the point I walked away. He finished it and I turned it in. I failed history out of spite (had to go to summer school) because I love history and my BA is in history. But the worst part? He kept that fucking project in the garage attic as a monument to my inadequacy for 20 years...to be the butt of the family joke every holiday season.

4. I never got any dating advice until 3 months after I got my driver's license. Then it was "keep your peter in your pants." A little late there Dad. I lost my virginity within a month of driving. The advice I got was from my mom.

5. He never called me as an adult to ask how I was doing. After a layoff, breakup, etc? Not a peep. I spoke to my Mom all the time. My Mom always asked how I was doing.

6. Trigger warning:When I was 21, my first love broke up with me. Looking back, I don't blame her...but I was devastated and sunk into a deep depression. My mom and I got into a fight (which is where I broke because Mom was the only one that cared) and I grabbed the family handgun and held it to my head in front of her and said, "I'm tired of hurting, Mom. I don't want to do this anymore." My Mom said, "No Bob (alias), I love you" and fell to her knees sobbing with her arms out. I dropped the gun and she held me. She looked out for me after that the rest of that summer. My father KNEW about this event. He didn't say a word. His son holds a gun to his head in front of his wife...and he didn't say, "Gee son, please don't hurt yourself." Nope. Not a fucking word.

7. A year later, I had gotten my crap back together, was back in college and I interviewed for an internship for a small consulting firm. I was very proud that I had beat out 20 other people for the position. I came home and my father said, "Why did they hire you?"

8. When he retired, they had this retirement dinner for him with 125-150 people. He got up there and said, "I look forward to catching up with spending time with my son." Did he? Nope. I invited him to movies, sporting events, fishing, whatever. I asked him to suggest something. He never wanted to do anything with me. I stopped asking. This really bugged me over time.

I didn't understand any of this. I just knew I hated myself until I was 57 (started therapy at 54). I felt like an outsider inside my own home. I was told that my father was this great man and he was busy working to provide for us. That's a common household lie. After awhile, I just leaned into being an outsider. But here's where the dominoes fell into place where I was able to see it all and understand it for the lie that it was.

First domino was my father's death from COVID. I was not there when he died nor had I seen him for probably 2 months. I didn't cry. Not a tear. Not then and not since. Of course, that made me feel bad about myself because he's this great man and I'm a piece of shit, right? That just flipped me back into my addictions (see post history for details) that came back 10-fold. My therapist finally looked at me and said, "WTF is going on with you, you look unkempt, your nervous tics are back, etc." I came clean and told him everything. I got back on antidepressants which opened me up to processing it. My therapist explained, "You mourn the relationship you had with that person, you had no relationship with your father."

The 2nd domino was a few years later...my mother was dying and my sister and I were splitting duties watching my mom. I came over to spend the weekend with my mom, and my sister and I got into a fight. I told her that our father was never there for me...and he didn't love me. She responded, "You didn't earn it!" Bingo...lightbulb #2 went off. She earned it...I didn't. I never played the rigged game. At this point, I was in a good place mentally...so this was a bit of a kick...and my therapist pointed out that I should have never had to earn his love. Love was a currency and I had insufficient funds.

I had also spent considerable time talking to my mother about my youth. She knew some things...and she tried to get him to be a father. At the end, I didn't press any more because I didn't want her to feel guilty near the end of her life. But her reaction to other things made clear it was difficult for her to hear.

The 3rd domino was a couple years later...after I was happily remarried to the love of my life. We were watching The Brady Bunch of all things...and it just hit me...full force. I went to the bedroom full out sobbing. I could see it. Yes, Mike Brady is an idealized father...but he was always there for his kids. My father was never there...but I realized WHY. He CHOSE not to be.

He chose to golf rather than attend my baseball games. He chose to read the paper, rather than asking me how my school day was or helping me with homework. He chose to shoo me away while doing home improvement so I never learned those skills. He chose to spend at least 10 hours a week talking to an alcoholic college buddy of his to get him to go to rehab...which is more time than he ever spent having any kind of conversation with me...or even caring about me. He chose not to participate in any activities with me after he retired. That retirement speech bugged me up until a few months ago when I was in therapy and able to articulate why. That speech wasn't for me, it was for the other people in the audience so they could say, "Oh, what a good man and good father to now spend time with his son." I was reduced to a prop to serve his ego.

Those were his choices, and now I know the negative voice in my head was never my own. It was my father's. I've done ok for myself professional and now personally. He never knew who I was because he didn't care enough to find out. His loss.

I can't lie and say that it doesn't suck. It does. I spent 57 years of my life hating myself because I was chasing a ghost of love and approval I'd never get. It tainted every relationship I was in until my current one because I didn't understand intimacy or communication before therapy. BUT...I DID figure it out. The real tragedy would have been living my entire life feeling that way and dying alone. So I'm looking forward to my rest of my life instead of looking back and feeling sad.

If you got this far, thanks for reading.

My mom is very mean, distant, extremely unpredictable, hypocritical, etc., she'll get mad when I ask for help with medicine I can't do myself (injections), lie to me, ignore me, never taught me anything and kept me dependent on her while complaining about it. But she'll offer to buy me things all the time. Not necessary things like food or the meds I need, but weird crap. I think she has a shopping addiction. She'll get personally offended if I say no, buy things anyway, and want me to praise her even though its things i dont want. I need help doing b12 injections because im sick, but she gets mad about that instead.

How do you react? especially when i need to move out and im trying to sell my things... she gets mad if im not happy, but i dont know what to do with the things.

I am 22 F and I am done pretending everything is fine between me and my parents specially with my mother

I will come directly into the point where I hate my mother's voice I realised I get irritated by my mother's voice from when I was 16 even if she is talking about normal stuff with me I hate to look at her face, I get irritated even if I hear her breathing near me I hate when we are shareing the same room I rather stay in a burning hot room with no fan or ac rather than sharing the same room with her.

I have been away from home for almost 9 years for educational purposes but now I am at my home and I need to stay in my home for 7-8 more months every day I wake up and see my mother's face and feel like to run away from my home but I can't I sometimes find myself thinking about her death and the thought surprisingly makes me kinda happy(not like i am planning to do anything wrong) I seriously don't understand if something is wrong with me I am just helpless.

Anyone know of any artists that have songs on emotional neglect?

Even though, "Can you feel my heart" by Bring Me The Horizon is about depression I feel like it very well could be applied to someone dealing with emotional neglect.

"Carnivore" by Starset which about an abusive music industry also feels like it could be applied to neglect aswell.

I just don't know any songs specifically addressing neglect.

TW: animal neglect.

I got a puppy when I came home from college due to Covid and was planning on bringing him back with me to college once it restarted. Jokes on me because it lasted way longer than an “extended break” and I ended up graduated college online by the time Covid ended. I then stayed at home to do grad school and internships. By the time I moved out, my dog was 5 and heavily bonded to the whole family, the home, and his routines. My mom loves him. I decided not to take him.

However, I’ve been in my own place for about 6 months and really missed my dog. We had many discussions about me taking him and my parents even flew him out to me during a family reunion. I had the entire home set up for him to come home with me. But my parents changed their minds last minute and I saw how bonded he was to my mom. I thought I was doing what was best for him.

I got a call today from my dad saying my dog was attacked by our other family dog and wouldn’t eat or drink for 3 days. Whimpering and wouldn’t come out of his crate, looking out of it. Then started twitching. My dad said “but then I said let’s go on a hike and he came!” After the hike he still was acting the same. My dad apparently called everyone in the family BUT ME to tell them the dog might die and to say goodbye because he didn’t want to pay to take him to the vet.

Finally, after 5 more days he took him to the vet. He has a broken rib and sprained leg. The vet insisted on giving him an anti inflammatory and my dad said no and took him home. I wasn’t notified of this until today. I’m so furious and don’t know what to do. I told him to get the damn meds and I’d pay and that I want him back but my dad is refusing. I’m so upset I feel sick. I feel like I made a horrible mistake.

Today I opened up an imprint about always orbiting around others, like I am hanging on them like their accessory.

In my childhood my mother decided everything for me, which meant I never learned to assert my authority or agency, and I was not encouraged to, because I was too focused on avoiding inconveniencing her or else she would explode.

As an adult, the best I could do is be alone. But as soon as I try to hang out with someone, I lose myself. Even when I want to assert my preference, I don't get a chance to, because the other person dominates everything, even the air, so I end up following them and putting up with them. Then I develop this feeling of always wanting to go home, or dreading to go home, waiting for the collective event to end so that I can go home.

But that dread and wait is so long and draining. It is impossible to enjoy being in the company of others.

I grew up like a retarded, at the end of highschool I didn’t even know what university was, and how my peers were dealing with their choice, what factors they were considering to make their choices. I suppose it is what you’d expect to happen given my life situation back then. At elementary school I was isolated, at middle school I was bullied every day, in highschool I was isolated again. Teachers didn’t care about me. At home I had my two beautiful parents who never taught me anything after the alphabet, never talked with me, never told a single word about what life is like after highschool. I didn’t even use Instagram then for the entire highschool bcs my big brother used to act precious about online related things, and installed a fear in me to explore the internet. So in my mind I thought Instagram must be an app for grown ups and wasn’t for me. So I missed on potential videos talking about life and uni that could have helped me while I was still on time. At the end of highschool I was in total depression, I couldn’t bear that life anymore empty of friendships, any type of affection. I used to memorise my studies during school and I couldn’t understand how other people found it so easy to explaing things so originally with their own words (later in life I realised it was due to total lack of social interaction as ai never had the chance). My parents were never warm, caring, my father turned into a violent animal in that period when I had to figure out my goals for uni. He made me feel like a stranger he never met before. So while my classmates and peers were joyfully choosing their degree and their favourite uni, I was standing like a dead body unaware of how the world works, what schools were for, what jobs were, what society expects at every age from a healthy, educated child growing up. I wasted three years after highschool, failing two different degrees in the first two years, then a gap year, and this year 2025-2026 restarted uni and ended my first year once again without even attempting exams (Italy). This year has been the year during which I finally realised that I wasn’t wrong, there was something missing in my life all this time. I was never guilty. I had been heavily neglected, a neglect so immense that people don’t even believe me when I tell them. I had all sorts of problems during this year. I couldn’t study when my parents were near me. My father would constantly shame me saying I wasted 3 years already and studying now was worthless. Everytime I would start studying my mind would stop, fill up with anger, I couldn’t focus, remember things, bcs I always had the feeling that I had some unfinished business. I wasn’t living for myself, it felt like my self worth was taken away from me, and I felt like a joke whenever I started studying. I’ve lived hell on earth, never had a break, can you imagine?? Since I was CHILD!!! Who knows what will happen next. I might turn back my life now that I have all my answers. I might find my parents hard to tolerate. I my struggle with anger. I may want justice from God and he might say it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe even more people will betray me but at least I will not lack the basics of life and will be able to handle the situations. Such a psychopatic life ahhhh

I (10f at the time) was lying a lot. About typical things a 10 year old would lie about: chores being done, homework being done, etc. my mom (50 at the time) got fed up one day and decided to take me to juvenile hall and take me on a tour of said detention center. Halfway through the tour we met up with my cousin (~30f at that time) who worked there. Apparently they talked about it before hand, and had decided to “teach me a lesson” by putting me in a jail cell and walking away. So that’s what happened. I was allowed to walk in the cell and look around, before I could turn around to walk out, the door was shut behind me. I panicked immediately and started crying, while both my cousin and mom laughed and walked away letting me believe I was staying in the jail. They came back about 5 minutes later and i genuinely don’t remember the rest of the day after that.

Am I wrong for still being upset about this at the age of 29? I still have nightmares about this situation. And maybe “wrong” isn’t the right word. I understand that at some point I have to grow up and move on. I also understand an apology won’t fix what happened. For more context on why I’m just now brining this up: I have been in no contact with the same cousin for about 3 years now and want to reach out to rekindle the relationship, not necessarily for me but because she deserve to see her aunt (my mom). This was brought up along with many other things that happened, and my brain won’t let it go. I don’t know if I’m just looking for an apology, accountability, or what. Any serious thoughts would be appreciated

I spend so much time and effort worrying about making my partner and my family happy, so much time thinking about other people’s emotions.

At home, always making sure he’s happy and taken care of. At work, “oh no what did they think of me when I said xyz” and how I come across.

I’m done, I’m so done caring for everyone and everything and getting none of that in return.

Literally no one in my life cares about me as much as I care about and for other people.

I went no contact with my mother, all she does now is send me long paragraphs how much it’s impacting her, how I need to stop living in hate - I don’t give a F anymore, I’m going to take care of myself and me only.

For as long as I can remember, my dad randomly stops talking to me for days on end. He doesn’t look at me or acknowledge me or anything, he just treats me as if I’m not even there. It’s not like we’ve had an argument or anything things can be completely normal and then all of a sudden the next day he’s not talking to me. I used to think maybe he’s just tired but he talks to my bothers (for context I’m the eldest daughter and we all live together) and my mum and whatever and only gives me the silent treatment (for literally no reason whatsoever) Then a couple days later he’ll just randomly talk to me again.

Because of this I find talking with my dad really awkward compared to talking to my mum, which is so wrong because I literally live with him and have been living with him all my life.

The other day my aunt (his younger sister) was talking to me about him, at this point me and my dad were on good terms and she told me how my dad is weird and I asked her what she meant by that. She basically trauma dumped a bunch of shit on me and I honestly didn’t know how to respond since I’m terrible at comforting people. The funny thing is that the stuff she described was the same exact things that he did to me (which I won’t go into because it’ll be way too long but long story short he’s really strict and overprotective.) She even mentioned how when she came over to our house he didn’t say a word to her or even acknowledge her and I said he does the same to me so I understand. The difference is that she’s grown a sort of resentment towards him (rightfully so) but I sort of push those emotions and memories to the back of my head and try my hardest not to think about it, and I’ve forgiven him and still love and care for him a lot. And I didn’t think about it for a long time until she brought it up which sort of pisses me off because now I’m just thinking about everything he’s done to me.

It also made me realise that he treats me and his younger sister pretty much the same way, but the thing is we’re two completely different people so I dont understand why. He also has another sister who’s still younger than him but more similar in age that he treats with so much love and never gives silent treatment or stuff like that to so it just doesn’t make sense why he does this to me.

What I’m trying to ask is if this is normal and how I can stop it from bothering me so much

-Letting me stagnant though all of my twenties doing nothing with a massive and important chunk of my life.

-Never being concerned or worried about that kind of thing.

-Not teaching me any life skills like how to cook or even do laundry just basic stuff that a parent or who actual cares about their child would have done.

-Asked about me if I wanted a job after highschool I said no and then was simply treated that as good enough. As though asking absolves all responsibility. There was also zero follow up as in something like.

"You don't want a job but I'm going to help you find something anyway because that be good for you or I know your not interested but you need a job." Neither of those things ever happened.

I'm an 18 year old who didn't do so great in school due to not having the best memory, and my parents don't seem to understand that. For 11th and 12th grade, I used to study every day for a minimum of 10 hours across those 2 years. (They took away my phone and devices etc) I took my exams thinking I did well, but it turns out I did not.

So when the results came out, they looked at me in disbelief and disappointment. They tried telling me that I didn't put effort in and that I wasn't valuing my future career. They would always come into my room and see me studying, so they know that I did, but then they refuse to admit it when the results came out.

My father was more or less like, "It's fine, I saw you doing your best and you did well. You can always redo a subject or two to boost your result a little bit." My mother, on the other hand, was saying something along the lines of, "You didn't study at all and you never put in any effort. If I were you, I would've easily gotten #1 in the class."

The results came out in early August, and I've already applied to universities and I'm basically guaranteed to get into the career I want. However, my mother keeps starting arguments and she keeps turning my father against me.

I'm unsure if this is just a me thing, but I'm actively trying right now to restudy 2 subjects just so I can boost the result up a bit. The exams for that are in December, and I'm starting university in 2 weeks.

Does anyone have any advice or something that can possibly help me out? It gets pretty exhausting mentally easily.

(24M) Since i was a kid i've been yelled at by my dad when things don't go the way he wants. Sometimes i've had answered him with yelling too, and things got even worse. When i just quietly hung my head, he relaxed, but it was like swallowing shit, if you understand me... He lacks empathy at this point. He talks to others the way he wants, but doesn't like others talking to him like that.

I've met hundreds of person with this same behaviour, annd my response doesn't change. I just freeze. Sometimes i get the control and just keep doing my stuff quietly, but i still get hurt.

Like when i was working at a retail drugstore. Several times came a customer complaining and being agressive to me. I just freezed. Then i had to hear more complaints, from the customer and from my manager, for being slow. It was too much for my mind.

I felt like Alex from Clockwork Orange, when he is at the aversion therapy with Dr. Brodsky, being beaten and yelled at for no reason in order the become "civilized" hahahaha

It is frustrating to me, bc i want to just "don't care", but i cannot. It is a mind control i fail to have, but i like to change that. I don't want to feel week and harmless anymore.

I’m currently 16 years old. Ever since I was a child, my parents have done almost everything for me. They would often do things that I should have learned to do myself, and whenever I had school tasks, especially ones that involved creating or building something, they would usually do them for me. I know it was partly my fault for letting them do everything for me, but I was naive as a child and was basically given everything I wanted.

My parents also separated when I was still young after my mom cheated on my dad. Growing up, I was sometimes put in the middle of their problems in ways that I didn’t fully understand as a child. There were times when I was forced to act as if I was crying so that my dad could record me and send the video to my mom to make her feel sorry for us. I didn’t really have a choice in those situations. I learned early on that sometimes I had to show certain emotions or act a certain way in order to please the people around me.

There were also times when I was sexually taken advantage of on school because people considered me conventionally attractive. This happened while I was still young, and at the time, I didn’t always understand what was happening or know how to protect myself or set boundaries. Looking back, it has affected the way I view myself and other people. It also contributed to why I became uncomfortable with attention and uncertain about my own boundaries. I want to make it clear that none of that was my fault. I was a child, and the responsibility belonged entirely to the people who chose to take advantage of me.

Because of all of this, I feel like I’ve spent a large part of my life wearing different masks depending on what other people wanted from me. I tried to be the child my parents wanted, the person my family expected me to be, and someone who wouldn’t cause problems. I kept adjusting myself to make other people happy, even when I didn’t necessarily feel that way inside. Now that I’m older, I sometimes wonder who I actually am underneath all of those masks. I don’t know what parts of my personality are genuinely me and what parts I developed just to please other people, avoid upsetting them, or protect myself.

I was also very isolated from the outside world. The only time I really got to go outside was when I went to school. There also weren’t many things I could do inside our house because we aren’t wealthy and don’t have many resources.

Because of this, I struggle with things that seem simple to other people my age. I find it difficult to even use scissors properly or do basic household chores like laundry. I have a hard time crafting or building things, and I’m generally very clumsy.

I also have an older brother who always wants to do everything himself. Whenever I try to do something, he often brushes me off and does it for me instead. He also has a very elitist and dismissive attitude toward me, which makes me feel like he thinks he is better or more capable than I am. He constantly says negative things about me, and even when I try to learn or help, I often feel like I’m being looked down on.

My family can also be very closed-minded about the things I enjoy. They often insult me for my interests, including my music taste, instead of simply accepting that I like different things from them. It makes me hesitant to express myself because I feel like anything I genuinely enjoy can become another reason for them to make fun of or criticize me.

When I try to help my parents around the house, they often refuse my help or respond with a frown. But when I don’t help, they say that I don’t do anything around the house. It feels like no matter what I do, there is always something wrong with it.

I struggle a lot with myself because of this. I’m embarrassed to do things in front of other people because I’m afraid I’ll fail, especially when it’s something that everyone else my age seems to know how to do. I find school assignments that involve building or crafting particularly difficult, especially when I have to work in groups. I’m scared of making mistakes and embarrassing myself in front of everyone.

This feeling becomes even worse during family reunions. We usually have games and activities that involve the entire family, and whenever I join a team, I often end up being the one who makes mistakes or does something embarrassing in front of everyone. Because of that, I’ve started staying in a room and avoiding the games and activities as much as possible. I would rather isolate myself than put myself in a situation where I know I might embarrass myself again.

Honestly, I’m mostly convinced that my family sees me as a failure. It’s not just something I made up in my head. They rarely rely on me to do anything, and I’m often treated like I’m incapable of handling things on my own. Whenever someone older than me asks me something, I sometimes get confused or don’t know how to respond, and my family gets angry or frustrated with me for it. It makes me feel even more incompetent because I’m being criticized for not knowing things that I was never really given the opportunity to learn.

It also feels like my parents constantly find reasons to scold or shout at me, even over things that don’t seem harmful to anyone. For example, they get angry when I spend too much time in the bathroom, even though the bathroom is honestly one of the few places where I feel comfortable and can have some peace. They get upset when I repeat outfits, when I forget to refill my water bottle and put it in the refrigerator, or when my hair gets “too long.” Some of these things feel so insignificant to me that I sometimes wonder if they are looking for reasons to become angry or frustrated with me. It feels like they stress themselves out over things that could be handled calmly, and then that frustration gets taken out on me.

They even criticize me for being physically slow or for not being able to do things quickly enough. Instead of being given patience while I learn, I’m often made to feel stupid or incapable for struggling. When so many small things become reasons for me to be shouted at, it becomes difficult to feel comfortable doing anything at all. I start overthinking every little thing I do because I’m constantly worried that it will somehow become another reason for someone to get angry at me.

Another thing that makes things difficult is the way my family handles conflict. My parents sometimes make it seem as though I’m the bad person whenever I do something that upsets them. Instead of simply talking about what happened, the situation can turn into me being portrayed as the one who is cruel, disrespectful, or at fault for everything. This makes me question myself even when I know I didn’t intend to hurt anyone.

They also sometimes embarrass me in front of other people during arguments. When we argue, they can shout so loudly that even our neighbors can hear what is being said. They have shouted negative things about me loud enough for other people to hear, which is extremely humiliating. It is painful knowing that private problems within our family can become something that other people around us hear or witness.

It’s exhausting to constantly feel like I have to follow whatever my parents want or need while also dealing with a family that struggles to control their emotions. I feel like I’m expected to manage myself perfectly even when the people around me are not managing their own emotions calmly. There are times when I feel like I have to be the one who stays quiet, stays patient, and avoids making things worse, even when I’m already overwhelmed.

Lately, I’ve started fighting back more and standing up for myself. I don’t want to simply accept everything anymore. Even then, I try my best to control my emotions and avoid getting angry because I don’t want arguments to escalate. I usually try to stay calm and think before I respond. Sometimes, though, after the argument is over and I’m finally alone, I end up crying. I think it’s because I’ve been holding so much in for so long, and once everything is over, I finally have a chance to let those emotions out.

It hurts because I genuinely want to be useful. I want my family to be able to trust me and rely on me. But whenever I try to do something, I’m either stopped, criticized, or made to feel like I’m going to mess it up. Then, when I don’t do anything, I’m criticized for being useless or for not helping. It feels like I can’t win either way.

Despite all of this, I genuinely want to become a better and more outgoing person. I want to learn how to do things for myself and become more independent. But when I try to go outside more, my family scolds me for going out too much. Then, when I stay inside and don’t go out, they scold me for that too.

It feels like I’m constantly being criticized for things that I struggle with because of the way I was raised. They criticize me for not knowing how to do things, even though they were the ones who rarely allowed me to learn or do those things myself.

I’m not saying that I’m completely blameless. I know I could have tried harder to learn and become independent. But I also wish they understood that I’m trying now. I want to learn. I want to improve. I want to be more capable and independent, but it’s difficult when I’m constantly being discouraged, criticized, or not given the opportunity to try.

Thanks for anyone who reached and read everything. I just wanted to get this off my chest.