Overcoming the Pain of Childhood Abuse and Neglect

Although I found your article interesting I believe that there are some instances where a memory is better off kept in the dark. I don't remember a lot of my childhood and I am grateful for that. I have no relationship with my Mother and that is MY choice. The only thing that she has ever taught me was how NOT to be a parent.

I liked this article but I think therapies work differently on different people and while this might work for some I believe sessions with a therapist will be more productive and much more helpful especially when the abuse was extreme. I think leaving memories in the dark is more damaging to us in the long run because while you may not consciously remember, your subconscious does and so does your body and that will affect your daily life and relationships when things or events trigger unintended responses that cause more damage to you in the end.

It is possible to re-frame the abuse. Surviving such a childhood made me much stronger than I would have ever been without the struggles.

By focusing on the gain it makes the pain less. It does not mean I would choose the past if I had a choice but I can find the silver lining and focus there when thoughts from the past arise.

i am a 36 yr old male... with no dreams, no life... no reason to keep going, but takin my life..... i JUST CAN NOT DO IT... i am too scared i will mess up and i might make things worse.

15 yrs of pain and hate has made a home inside me.... a death grip locked into my heart..... i have been to counselors for help... but none of them helped me deal...... with the pain and hate.... they never helped me find a way to let it go.....
i need help.... it feels like i am dead & empty inside.
my brother forced me to have sex with him from the time i was 15 to 17, and i never got the help when i should have.... 20 yrs later here i am beggin for help.
i do not have the money to pay, so i am beggin for someone to help me.... i have asked God to help me many of times, to come into my life.. but it seems like He is no longer listenin to me.... i have said everything that i can thing of....
please i want help... i need help.... i want my life to change and i can not do it on my own

there is no light inside my soul cuz there is too much darkness...
everyone I have been to for the most part it was a waste of my time.... and their time.
my truck does not run right and my mom uses it for work... so I have no transportation....
480.00 a month does not give me much to work with either....
the Lord has turned the other way.... if he was going to help me it would have happened by now....

What these questions do is they help you take a step back and view your pain and it's source objectively. When you're in pain and have lived for years trying to deal with it, everything gets all tangled up. The past, the present, etc. I'm trying to deal with something that happened to me 25 years ago and realize (as part of taking time to answer each of these questions and writing them down) that I've taken a single isolated event in my childhood and more or less applied to everyone and everything in my life. More specifically, as a child I witnessed a horrific incident of betrayal and hurt between my parents... as quickly as it happened, it was buried. There was never any reconciliation or explanation or resolve. I've learned (by answering these questions) that I took the pain and wound I suffered back then into my entire life... never knowing, never understanding, never any resolve.

Fast forward to today. I am 40 years old. I'm trying to connect the dots. I notice that particularly during the holidays (Christmas, New Years), the "family-themed" seasons, a lot of my childhood pain comes up. It sends me spiraling into depression... the old wounds surface. The thing is most of the time I don't connect the emotion with it's source. I try to think of what's "wrong" with my current life.

This article was very helpful. Working through it helps me to begin to make sense of everything. To sort out "life." To put everything in it's rightful place. To begin the process of resolving the past so I can have a better future.

(I apologize for the rambling, unstructured post... I just wanted to share what was on my mind)

Thanks for the article!

Abuse is one thing, abuse of power! Everything that is done in the world, and i mean everything, is done to change the balance of power. Abuse is when this is done against your will. Abuse comes in so many forms, physical, emotional, sexual, financial...... But they all have this one thing in common. A child cannot protect itself, it is dependant on a trusted adult to not abuse this. sadly in society people see this advantage and take advantage of it to fulfill their own sick needs.
In my experience there is only one way to start healing from abuse, and that is to change your belief system with regard to the people that did the abusing. No-one wants to believe that their mother was not a good mother, or their father a sick person, but the sooner you face it and accept it into your belief system the sooner the pain will not be left by others in your mind.

Thanks for posting this article. I've been using the questions to work through some pain from my childhood. It has been extremely helpful. I would say the main thing it has helped me to do is connect my pain today with the incident that caused it in the past (rather than having the pain misdirected into my current life and relationships).

I was wondering, what do you recommend as a next step after working through these types of questions several times?

I was always told how ugly I am by my mother when I was growing up. She told me nothing but an old piece of no good man would ever want me. I wonder is that why I have never met a man who is not on drugs or a heavy drinker.I still think I am ugly and when I talk to someone I am wondering if they are saying in their mind I am ugly. I cant get past this. I am 40 and I have no confidence. My mother told me she wanted all her kids to look like my sister. My sister is beatiful and she was never put down. She is a college graduate she hass travled the world and she dates successful guys like lawyers, police officers,school teachers. No one like that would ever be attracted to me. I have made up my mind to keep away from my mother because she is still to this day tring to make me feel bad about myself. And now she is comparing my daughters to my sister.

I find this article extremely well-written and useful.

We are walking around with these stories repeating in our emotional memories, and become stuck in time, never moving forward.

I feel great compassion to those who feel hopeless. I know this feeling. Here's what gives me great hope:

We have become very strong, living despite carrying this very heavy burden, like some kind of quasimodo carrying a huge rock, hiding under it and bent almost to the ground. By gradually going through this frightening and painful process, the rock gradually becomes smaller, the burden less, and we can slowly stand upright and walk forward, facing the challenges of the present rather more squarely.

Since we are so strong and have learned to live "out of the light", even very small progress feels like a huge lightening. Each step in this direction, though extremely difficult, makes us feel that much better.

I am facing this writing process right now, and know this is true. One step after another. Have patience, get support. The fact that you have come to this article and discussion means you are already on the path to healing. Negative stories now are fear of pain coming again. Luckily, we are no longer in that past situation.

We can do it.

I know how it feels I am in my 40's and I still feel the pain. I still think I am ugly because my mother always told me I am. I am shy and can't open up to people the way I want to. All I ever think about is when I meet someone new are they saying I am ugly in their minds. I hate my body. I always epect the worst in relationships because she told me nothing but an old piece of man would ever want me. And believe me when I say all my boyfriends were drug addicted and felons. Help!

i am 27 but feel like i have lived for a thousand years. everyday i wake up i am disappointed that i did not die. i cry all the time because i feel utterly useless and hopeless. my sisters and i grew up with an abusive father. my mother could have helped but she left and became a 'part-time' mother because that was what my father wanted. i was sexually abused by a neighbor and my mother does not know. she treated us and still treats us like secondary people. for her my father has been her topmost priority and she always sides with him. i have no sense of self-worth. i want to heal i hope this therapy helps. thanks

I started the process of trying to understand my childhood experiences a couple years, before I'd read this post. They're on the blog/homepage I listed above. It took a long time after I'd moved away from my father to stop feeling like ashamed of myself, and to stop blaming myself, for all the abuse and neglect I endured as a kid. Even though I've moved past the self-blame and depression, I'm still left with an empty, lonely, feeling... and a profound sense of anger at my parents. Blaming them for my childhood hasn't exactly helped me feel better about it, but I don't know how to let go. This is made worse by the fact that my mom passed away when I was 14, so I could never try find out how she felt and how she would feel if she knew me now, and by the fact that my father is in complete denial about his treatment of us (brothers too) and his continuing alcoholism. Without the acknowledgment of the wrongs and a genuine apology, I feel as though I can never move on.

Hi,
I suffered from emotional and physical abuse from my mother until I moved out age 24. She still does emotional abuse, even to this day.
I've seen a counsellor off and on for a long time, and it hasn't helped. I have PTSD, and every night I have nightmares that are flashbacks. In the daytime I can't remember nearly everything in my past. Just momentary freezeframes. I remember awful incidents, but not what happened to cause them, and not what happened after.
So I don't know how to fix myself. Writing it down is futile. There's nothing but remembering the being hurt.
I ended up doing selfharm from a teenager, I can't remember when it started even. I finally managed to stop it, by myself, using a series of problem solving methods that I worked out and taught myself as habits. However it hasn't stopped the reason I did it. I stopped the self harm, but now I have no outlet and no coping mechanism.
The problem that made me decide to go online now is about reading books. I am a brainy person, I didn't know that for a long time, because of being put down. I found out years later that I was in the 100th percentile. I'm 44 now. Whenever I would be caught reading books as a child, I would get in trouble. I would be hit, screamed at, shaken, knocked down. My books would be confiscated, for weeks or months. Books were my escape. I still don't know why reading was such a bad thing to my mother.
I would read under the covers at night with a torch, I was so desperate to escape. I just needed to, I don't know why exactly. She would tiptoe downstairs to my room (which had no door), in the dark, and suddenly tear the blankets off me and scream at me, my heart would nearly leap out of my chest with terror.
This happened for my whole life at home. I was very studious and quiet, I always did my homework, I tried to do the best I could at school to gain approval, or acknowledgement, it didn't work. I did all my chores at home, I chopped firewood, and cleaned the kitchen, set the fire, vacuumed, weeded the vegie garden, tidied my room always, cooked dinner, everything I was supposed to do, without being asked or reminded. I was the best at doing the kitchen, I tried so hard.
Sometimes I was allowed to read, that is, I would read and nothing would happen, when my dad would take me to the library, and get books out, but then other times all hell broke loose from my mother. I never knew when.
So whenever I read a book, after even just 4 minutes, I would start feeling like self harm. It was my trigger. Watching tv, or doing anything that was not some sort of job, would trigger it. I suffer terrible guilt and shame when I read a book or watch a movie or tv, or even knit, or play music (I taught myself piano at age 7, but that was also a source of problems). I was only allowed to play piano at set times for a short period. I'd get in trouble if I played other times. I'd be hit, shouted at. She would not talk to me for days at a time, and I'd know she was working up to a big blowup at me. I wouldn't know what, and if I asked, the blowup would be triggered.
I couldn't walk past her without my whole body expecting to be hit, this cringing feeling of dread. Eventually she'd blowup regardless, and it was a whole bunch of things I'd done that she was angry about. I never remembered doing them, or even understood what I'd done wrong. I was very shy and introverted at school. I never got into trouble. I learned to make friends at college (age 16), and that was better, but it was worse at home. She was more angry with me those years than any years, as if she didn't like my having friends. I never got to have any of them sleep over, my whole life. I went to 2 parties, and that was it.

I want to fix this feeling of guilt for reading or playing music. I can't keep still, and I can't relax. I feel extreme anxiety when I read, so much that it's like a panic attack. I realise now as an adult that for a child who is in the genius level of IQ, that it was pretty much the worst thing to do to me. To make reading a bad thing.
The being hit, shaken, pushed downstairs, sworn at, all the things I was criticised about, none of that damaged me as much as being abused for reading.
I don't know how to fix it. I'm proud I stopped my self harm. I realised that it was just a problem and I had the brains to solve it. But this one I haven't figured out. It feels as if it started so early, when I was really young, that it became part of my core value system. It's like an instinct. Whereas the self harm was something I started as a teenager and thus I was able to unlearn it.
There weren't any people to turn to when I was a child, no-one to get help. There weren't help lines or anything here. I was ashamed of being abused, it was my fault I made mum angry, as I was told. I would have been mortified to tell anyone. Plus also I felt that it was disloyal to my mum, so I couldn't tell on her. I love her, despite it all. I wished I didn't.
I just wish I could read without feeling so ghastly. I love reading, and I need to, but as soon as I do, this underneath feeling is there.
The counsellor did therapies and they didn't work, like playing sounds in my left and right ears, and getting me to talk about it, and then say positive statements about reading. It didn't work. I tried reading more after it, but I would find myself starting to need to self harm. I'd then do my own plans to stop that, but that means not reading.
Last week my mum gave me back 8 books of mine that she confiscated maybe 29 years ago. It didn't fix anything. I remembered the books so vividly, I knew they were mine. So familiar. She had included two other books not mine, and I knew instantly. She hadn't expected me to know, and she said she thought I'd like them. It was a nice gesture maybe, but maybe not. She's hung on to them all this time, so long, and not given them back. I don't know how many she still has.
How do I stop feeling like it's wrong to read? It is so ingrained, I can't get it out. I feel fear, when I read.
I've managed to do university, and I'm doing a postgraduate degree, and I still haven't ever read a whole text book once, and it's my 3rd degree. I just skim for the bits I need. I've managed to do it because of having brains, that's all. Because I would never know how long I would get to read, I developed as a very young child the ability to read extremely fast, it's over 900 words a minute. It was a survival technique that just happened naturally. So that helped me with uni, despite not being able to read any book for long. It's easier now with scientific papers, they're short, and I can read them quickly and survive the guilt a bit.
But I long to read without pain and fear and guilt. I feel desperate for it. And my music.
I feel like my mum broke something inside me, and I don't know what it was and I don't know how to fix it. I feel worthless and that I don't matter to anyone. I wished to die many many times in my life. The reason I don't do that, is because I think then she would win. She'd be proved right about how hopeless I am, and I don't want her to be glad that I was so weak I gave up. I can't bear to think of all the bad things she'd say about me if I was dead. It seems to bother her when I'm happy, and achieve things. She never wants to hear about my good things, or when I do well. She doesn't approve of my study and hasn't supported me. She wants me to quit, all the time, and I nearly have many times.
I used to want someone to be a best friend, who I was safe with, who would listen to me, my whole life, but I don't want that anymore. I don't care, I've given up on finding that. I mind though.
I'd be glad if I could just read without pain. When I read, I could escape all the past and the pain and the misery. Even if I still have nightmares at night, if I can read in the day, that would be enough. NB I told her about the nightmares, and she blamed me, and said that I should fix myself. I didn't tell her that they are about her, often. I said that they were about my exboyfriend, which was true, some of them are. He was nice at first, but after a few months, he was very abusive too, and violent. I dumped him, but it took a long time of working up to it. So she thinks it's my fault I have nightmares about his abuse. I'm supposed to just not. So I can't tell her I have nightmares about her. When I said that the counsellor hasn't helped fix the nightmares, that's my fault too, I should get a better counsellor, or make this one fix them somehow. Mostly it's me that should just not have them, I'm "letting things upset me", or "dwelling on things". At least since I moved out, she doesn't harm me physically anymore. But I still feel like I'm injured.

What is wrong with me? Why can't I fix the reading guilt and shame?
How do I fix it?
Thanks for 'listening' to me.

I understand this article is all about parental abuse. However my abuse extends to my entire family.

I come from a family of 6 children. I am the youngest. From my earliest memories I remember my second brother who is 12 years older than me pushed me very hard to the ground because I annoyed him. He also pinched me hard on the legs if I misbehaved. My eldest brother who is 18 years my senior also slapped me if I made too much noise. Both my parents witnessed this but they never said or did anything. Instead they told me I deserved it and should stay out of their way. I was only 4 at the time. I cannot not remember much kindness from any of them. It was always death glares and slaps if I annoyed them too much. I don't ever recall any big brotherly love at all.

When I was 8 my father threw me out onto the streets at 2am in the morning because I refused to wake up for my dinner. My mum and eldest sister brought me back inside. Instead of letting me go back to sleep, they told me to keep quiet and eat! To this day I have eating problems because I was so severely punished if I refused to eat or finish my food.

I have another brother above me who is 7 years older and used to beat the crap out of me whenever he felt like it or whenever I annoyed him. Once more my parents never stepped in. My mother did once but I was told off by my other siblings that it was all my fault for getting him into trouble with our mother.

I was simply the scapegoat in the family. Whenever my dad has one of his legendary tempers on any of my other brother and sisters, they took it out on me. In time even my extended family did the same.

My father was a very arrogant man. He offended a lot of people. They never spoke back at him, but took out their frustration on me. I was constantly put down, told I was stupid and useless. An uncle even molested me when I was 10. I never told anyone until recently. I am in my 40s now. I also had a grown man climb into my bed when I was 13 and my auntie blamed me for it happening saying to my mum that I was wild and was always out of the house. The reality is I had no friends because I was so picked on at home I became shy and withdrawn outside the home. I found it hard to make friends. My mum did not stand up for me. Instead she wanted to have a go at me for shaming her until my nice sister in law stepped in to stop her.

I thought about suicide when I was 9. I wanted the pain to just end. I do not understand why I was picked on so much. I learned to look after myself from age 8 as my parents had no time for me, neither did my siblings. I remember washing my own clothes (my dad refused to buy a washing machine because he thinks we will become lazy!), cooking my own meals and getting myself to school and back. I even packed my own lunchbox. I also did the housework.

My dad would constantly shame me in front of others by calling me bastard, useless, etc. and why can't I make him proud like so and so's kid? He would make me do things for him by threatening to hit me if I don't. He brought friends over for dinner and made me clean up everything. He owned a restaurant and I helped him out on the weekends or whenever I came home from college during the term breaks. The brother above me also helped out. However he got to turn up whatever time he wanted, whereas I had to turn up and leave the same time as staff. And I had to do more work as well. If I ever turned up late or wanted a day off, my dad was onto me like a rash. He would shout at me in front of the customers and staff. He did not care who was watching. He treated me more like a servant than a daughter.

By my late teens I was fed up with my family. They made my life a living hell. I was ashamed of myself, I thought I was not good enough and was constantly depressed. I still have bouts of depression to this day.

I went through my 20s in and out of jobs because I was constantly being bullied. I was labelled stupid. I did not know it then but now I understand I was still living the life of the "victim". I was afraid to stand up for myself and I avoided confrontation as being confrontational in my family meant more beatings.

I also dated a guy who was nice at first but became abusive and possessive not very long after. He also slapped, punched and kicked me whenever he got angry. He deliberately went out to break all the things I liked. He was very much like my father. My father will throw the things I like in the trash to teach me a lesson if I left them around the house. Finally I got fed up with this guy and threw him out after 4 years. Whenever I think of him now I want to vomit! I am so angry with myself for letting such a scumbag into my life. But I understand now why I let my guard down. I was still a victim and his behaviour was familiar. I was so used to abusive behaviour.

Last week, I finally told a very good friend of 20 years what my childhood was like. I have been depressed again for many months and it was wrecking my marriage and my relationship with my child. After telling my friend, I also told my husband of 14 years. It was like a weight being lifted. I understood all this time I was still experiencing my pain through my 8-year-old eyes. I never once looked at it from an adult's view.

My father passed away 4 years ago and at his funeral we were all told to be extremely upset because he was such a great man. I did cry. But it sure was not tears of sadness!

I have never gotten over how badly he treated me. I have also not forgotten what my siblings did. What annoyed me the most is that they see it as "we were just kids!". It's happy families from now! This is the biggest crock of shit (excuse my language) I have ever heard. There was no apology. Nothing! It's like it never happened and I was always the sensitive one!

I am getting over my abuse slowly. I find it helps a lot to talk to someone you trust and also remove yourself or keep contact to a minimum with the abusers, especially as they do not see any wrong on how they treated you. You can't change your family but you can change how you deal with them.

I hardly keep in touch with my family. It's all very strained and cordial. It's like we're strangers. The only person I really care for is my mum. She did stand up for me a few times but not always and has shielded me from getting beaten by my dad. However I have no regrets. They taught me very valuable lessons, especially on not how to treat others. I learned from my father how not to treat my child. I am a very good parent to my 9 year old. I read him books, take him for every extra curricular activity he signs up for and praise and encourage him if he does well. I also discipline him whenever he misbehaves but it is never cruel or with intent to shame or humiliate. I do it with respect and never cross that line.

On a personal level, I have learned to stand up for myself. I even told my domineering mother in law to back off. It put a stop to all her antics and now she is more respectful towards me.

Coming from an abusive family has taught me to sniff out the scumbags in life. Honestly because I was always on high alert as a child, I know when someone is not genuine and I am usually right. My husband once told me he thinks I am very intuitive especially when it comes to people. I seem to know who I should trust and who I should stay away from. I felt like telling him at the time this gift was from years of living in hell. I am in a much happier place now.

I hope everyone who posted their comments here can eventually find the peace and resolution that they need. Living with pain is not a way to live. Just remember whatever happened to you is not your fault, it never was. There is nothing wrong with us. We are not to blame for their behaviour. Our parents (also my siblings) were clearly damaged. We are human to see that the behaviour is abusive and wrong otherwise we will be passing it on to the next generation and continuing with the pain. By acknowledging and accepting it we will stop the cycle of abuse.

I forgot to add a couple more things to my story. When my dad threw me out onto the streets at 2am because I refused to get up to eat my dinner, it became the family joke for years. My siblings gleefully shared my punishment to whoever came into our lives. I was ashamed of it for a long, long time thinking I had it coming. I deserved it. It was not until I had my own child and being around good, kind people made me realise what a sick bunch of f**ks I had the unfortunate circumstance to grow up with!

I also recently discovered I had a fatal heart problem. It was a miracle I survived for this long. My doctor told me it is very likely passed down so urged me to contact my family to let them know and ask them to check as well. I did. At first my family acted all concerned. It was not until my mother became very ill and we all met up at the hospital, my 3rd brother asked me to send my heart chart to my eldest sister's husband as he is a GP. He wanted to check if I was lying thinking I was trying to gain some sympathy. Honestly? I get more sympathy from a cactus than from these bunch of shits! Well guess what? No one came back when I sent my brother-in-law GP the chart. Nothing. Not even a whisper!

I am different from my siblings and from my parents. I remember the toilet roll advertisement on how everyone in the family is a scruncher and this boy, the folder. I am the folder in my family. My family is loud and brash, whereas I am quiet and introverted. They always say I am not strong, not loud and fast enough. But I am the only one to graduate with a degree. The rest did not even finish school. My dad did not finish primary but he is always calling me dumb and useless.

My education saved me. It helped me get out of my horrible situation. I live as far away from them. On the other side of the world in fact! The best thing I ever did was to leave home at 17 to go to college. There I met the friend (the one I finally told my story to) and her lovely family. Till my teens I always thought every family is the same.

My friend's parents are the warmest and kindest people I had ever met. And her brother and sister are very lovely people as well. There was teasing of course, but never unkind put downs. I learnt from them what a normal family should be. I am scared to think if I never left home to study I will just be like the rest of my family. That is a horrifying thought! The abuse will just become normal, a part of life.

Accept lesbianism into your life. This is the one way ticket to true freedom. Melt the pain away by giving total pleasure to your lesbian lover. This is the way to go...........

good article. all the peripheral stuff is accurate -shame, guilt,etc. but central problem is ignored. small child decides that caring for others is too painful to continue. tries to block love, by hating others instead - and similar defenses. problem is when child grows up they find they can't have relationships with others, because they did "toogood a job" and now have no good feelings for anybody. goes to therapist - understand overview of why they are like they are. but are still left with the problem of overcoming the deep anxiety that blocks warmth for others. tries religous cults, relives the early trauma... etc. etc. etc. nothing works. now what???

Since I was a child, I was a lonely person. It wasn't like I didn't like people, on the contrary, but I was always alone. I had no brothers or sisters.

After I was born, my mom had to go back to work, she left me with my grandmother who too care of me, but never shew signs of love, adoring or appreciation. Even more, after my uncle had babies (my mother's brother) my grandmother loved them more, because she had a grater affection for her son than for her daughter (my mom). And so I grew up with no one to care. My cousins were always the best, the most beautiful, the smatest... and I was... I. No one ever, when I was a child, told me I was beautiful, or intelligent, or in some way special. I just existed around them. I felt, back them, something was missing, I never knew why until I grew up.

My mother was the kind of woman who had or expressed no feelings towards me. I know she married dad just because her former lover married someone else. She said yes to dad because she saw no other alternative. I was raised with love only by my father (the kind of love an alcoholic could give). My mother, even after I grew up and the brought me to school in the city (until the age of 6 I lived with my grandmother at the country side, that's where they left me after I was born), never showed signs of affection. She only cared for keeping the house clean, cook and go to work.

Even now, when I'm 30, I remember how much I wanted just to have a chit chat, a talk like girls do, she never opened up, never.

The thing is now I can't care for her, probably I'm emotionally blocked and, to be honest, I just don't want to. I tried so many times to talk to her, to challenge her into a talk, but she changed the subject immediatly.

Now, I feel that lack of affection due to the past two relationships I've had. In fact, recently I discovered that I act, in relationships, just like my mom did with my father. My father was brutal, an alcoholic until 20 years ago, who used to beat and offend her. I had a childhood marked by terror, fights and solitude. They even filed for divorce when I was 10, but they reunited and since then are together. My father gave up drinking and they get along well now, even though they have that tendency to always fight, life and have conflict while talking.

Coming back to the idea of how and why now I feel better and more profound abandonment and neglet, the two guys i dated, in the last two years, just turned their back on me when I was ill. When the first one left me, I was struck, I really loved him and he did love me, but didn't have the guts to confrunt "my deamons" and help me eliberate myself from them. The second one, with whom I've had a relationship for more than a year, he stood there until I gave him affection. We had a terrible fight in October 2014, I had a big problem at work and he didn't support me. He had his job and told me he has no time/love for me or for our dog. I felt miraseble and my feelings for him started to vanish. This year, after a pannic attack, I started to have health problems, got to do an MRI... all those medical investigations because I felt sick, lost eye vision, couldn't walk... it was horrible. And he, after I got sick, started to separate from me... so much like he never ever cared.

I know I am not a victim, that I can pass over this, but this feeling of abandonment and neglet is killing me. I can see how my mother's behaviour has affected me. I, just like her when beat up by my father, I did tend to break up with all the men in my life when I felt like unsure, when I felt underpressure or unsecure. I always wanted to run away just like she did when my father threatened or even beat her.

I want to heal everything that there is and to live a happy and simple life. Still, the fact that the last guy left me, though I was the one who told him several times our relationship is over, is killing me. I know not what to do. I think I've never been so low ever in my life.

I've spoken with my friends about the problem. Some understand, support me, but they have their own lives. I did identify this urge of being, talking, being all the time in connection with someone so that I don't feel alone, again.

Just like you described in your article, during my childhood, adolescence and past years, I tried to find in other people the parents/mom I never had. I ended being disappointed, crying and with that feeling of guilt, of being betraied and left alone.

The problem is that now, after this beak up, I feel it even worse, like never before. People told me it's my ego that suffers, but I disagree. I feel that, that young child is suffering. That little girl is left alone by that person in which she set her hopes would help her pass this tormenting experience.

After I started dating and had "problems" in relationships, I noticed this tendency of mine of leaving, of running away. I never knew why, but the past month has been full of revelations for me. So much information came to me. Feelings, thoughts, suffering, knowledge... and even your writings are mixed inside me.

Most of the time I feel ok, but there are moments of dispair when I just don't know what to do. I feel like crying, running away, but now I can only run away from myself, the other person already did this.

What's certain is that what I really need, though not sure if it's healthy, is someone to hold me, to be able to help cry my tears our and to be there. I feel like I need that person, strong enough not to run away, not to abandon me. Though, once again, I think that that person is me, but that me that needs to heal but doesn't know how.

With lots of love and appreciation,
me!

I grew up with a very emotionally unstable and unavailable mother, and my father was an alcoholic and always in and out of my life. 21 years later and I'm struggling with answering the question of who I am. I've realized how much I blocked out as a child and realizing how much it's affected my life, my romantic relationships, and friendships.
Some days I wonder how I didn't turn out worse and other days I'm grateful because I know others have had worse experiences. I don't feel severely depressed or anything but I can't deny this underlying pain or emptiness that I now see I've carried with me since I was a kid.

The memories are coming back to me and since I've always blocked them off, now they're hitting me and it hurts. And now it's getting harder and harder to remember the good times, but I know reflecting on this is something that's long over due.

I remember a day from when I was 4, where my parents fought for so long that I was so hungry I couldn't take it any more. I crawled behind the living room couches with my 2 year old brother and snuck into the kitchen to eat ketchup from packets with him.

I remember a time where my brother and I got into a bad fight and my mom solved it by smashing our heads together. I was in second grade, and I went to school and told my teacher that my head hurt and started to cry in front of everyone. That day we were learning about emotions and what they were, and I missed it because Cps came and interviewed me. I remember the man looked like he belonged in a men in black movie. I was so scared that my mom would beat me if I told on her, so I just lied and said I fell.

I was molested at daycare at 4 years old. But oddly enough, being so young at the time I didn't even know what was happening and it really never bothered me as much as the way my mom treated me and how much I wished my dad was around. In retrospect, I realize now that I never stopped to wonder what happened to me because my emotional energy was always being preoccupied with my poor home life.

My mother was never affectionate to us growing up. No hugs, no kisses, we got called stupid, annoying, cursed at and conflict was solved with her hitting us with whatever she could get her hands on. She would even order me to bring her something so she could hit my brother with. And if I was sad and withdrawn she would tell me to stop with my nasty attitude or else I was going to get it too.. I was so hurt that I would get even more angry. Sometimes I would get so angry and overwhelmed with sadness I would trash my room and throw things because I felt that crazy at the age of 8. Other times I would find comfort in my childhood blanket and would just find a small dark place to get into fetal position and just vegetate until my thoughts stopped spiraling.

Remembering little things like the time I picked a flower for my mom around 3-4 years old and when I brought it to her; she wouldn't let me inside because she had allergies and told me to get away. Or the time my shoes were so old and dirty that they were smelly and my mother told me to get away because I smelled gross and she was trying to concentrate.

I remember being hungry a lot... Opening and closing the fridge repeatedly in between pacing back and fourth at the age of 6. My mother was always jumping into relationships The worst bf stuck around for 6-7 years on and off and truly broke my spirit as a child with how cruel he was. If he and my mom were arguing, he would order my siblings and I to return anything he got for us and it happened a lot. I remember at 10 years old having to give a man well into his 50s back my clothes he bought me when they were the only nice clean clothes I had for school.
My mother always blamed us for her financial struggles because she had to take care of us. It was like my whole child hood she was more concerned with finding a man to take care of her financially. She was the type to side with her boyfriends over us all because he paid her rent for the month.

She even told me at around 9 years old that people in our family told her to abort me when she was pregnant. I always felt like such a burden to her I that I contemplated at such a young age taking the kitchen knife and driving it into my stomach. I still remember holding it up to myself and thinking if anyone would even miss me.

I was always so withdrawn and quiet. I never had a lot of friends because I was embarrassed about my family environment and predicament. I never felt good enough so I didn't see why anyone would want to be around me or even like me. My social skills were so poor I didn't even want to make a lot of friends because I had nothing to talk about with them. How could I?with dirty clothes, being hungry, I was always so wrapped up in just trying to get by day by day. When I hit puberty I started internalizing everything, contributed to my stubbornness and easily offended nature. I guess the "victim" mentality.. Huge insecurities. I became a pushover in high school, scared of conflict, very passive aggressive, emotional, irritable, anxiety so bad that I'd have to change my shirt multiple times before leaving for school because of sweat stains. I often got labeled as a bitch or acting "bitchy" but in reality I just never knew how to be. I never had that security that my mom and dad would be there for me. It made me become very independent, no way in hell I was ever going to rely on someone else for anything ever again. Yet I always tried to fulfill that emptiness with romantic love. Huge mistake because i was still very naive at 16 and my first relationship was horrible and damaging. Im embarrassed I had been so stupid to let someone just use me.

In my case, I've realize my poor choices stem from all of this. Being in college helped a lot since I found more people I could relate to and finally started accepting myself as enough. I feel as though I've almost caught up with learning things I should've learned growing up as a kid such as dealing with my emotions.

It's as if I'm currently mourning the loss of the childhood I always wanted and never got. I picture the younger version of my self and feel sorry for her, but glad I'm not in that place anymore.

I've reflected a lot and see that my parents had extremely traumatic childhoods, had children so young, no education, financial hardships... It was all a recipe for disaster. I almost don't blame them so much when I look at it that way. But there comes a point In life when you can't accept people like that into your life when they don't change. At the age of 20, my mother kicked me out, not even over something I did but because in stuck up for my brother who was having a lot of issues with her as well. She not only kicked me out, but she trashed my room, broke personal and sentimental items into pieces, shredded some clothes and managed to bring everything from
my room outside into the trash. Sometimes I wish I had a different mother, but the older I get the more I sympathize with her and see that she may have real mental issues that stem from what she's blocked off for her whole entire life that she still has yet to face.

A friend of mine told me once that my life is just a unique set of experiences... I found so much peace in that statement alone. After that I started looking at my life differently, and seeing that while negatives came about my childhood, there's so much good that came from it as well. It's inspired me, motivated me to succeed, to break the cycle, to work hard but also to enjoy the small happy moments that happen in my life every single day. To be thankful for being alive and having my chance at making my own life better than what there's was.

Despite it all, I'm so grateful that my mom took care of me enough so that I could become what I'd like to think is a nice and motivated, smart person today. I hope that someday my unique set of experiences will have prepared me for being a good mother.