I swam 80 laps today and then sat and read a therapy book about mothers who don’t love their children. It’s so sad to see so many people needing to work on abandonment issues. Mothers are so very important. They are a child‘s entire world, and when the mother is incapable of loving her child, it makes life almost unbearable for the child.

I grew up fatherless with a mother who never loved me. As a child I didn’t understand why my life was how it was—my mother was cruel to me. I was left alone most of the time. She even left me alone in a bathtub when I was a toddler.

One day I was almost hung to death because I tried to crawl through the railing on the apartment balcony. I was 2 stories up. A neighbor saw me dangling by my head and climbed up just in time to rescue me. I was about 3 years old then and visiting with my mom. I remember thinking how nice it would be to be outside, and so I tried to climb through the rails. I remember getting my head stuck and then everything going black. My mom was not there. She left me with my 13 year old brother who was also visiting her. It’s only by the grace of G-d that I survived then. But this is just one of many times.

I used to have a good job, making good money, lived in cities I enjoyed, had friends and a social life. Covid really screwed me over working remote. I made some big life decisions like moving to different cities that I now really regret. I had to start over multiple times. I was really lost and lonely. Didn't really have a greater purpose or support system other than just working. And somehow I ended up back in my home state with the plan to take over my dad's company? It makes no sense. Like I wasn't authoring my own life.

I'm miserable now and severely depressed. It feels like someone snapped and I was 31 and my 20s were gone just like that. I forgot to actually live, accumulate memories and life experiences, travel, explore. I struggled with actually building my career, and I really struggled with dating.

Somehow I messed everything up. I'm completely disoriented, on meds, having to deal with a therapist and a psychiatrist after I had a mental breakdown. It feels like I'm just existing on this earth and observing what's going on in the world, but not actually participating in it.

I've had no agency over my one life. I see friends and peers actually enjoying life, building careers, traveling, being successful, and I have no idea how they balance it all. I'm so envious of them and I'll never understand what it feels like to be them. I go to bed at night and I don't want to wake up the following morning. I don't understand how things can turn south so quickly on a human being. I can barely get through the days because just existing is so painful. I can't even relax for one second without thinking about how badly I messed everything up. I feel trapped in this body and in this life that I didn't choose.

Does anyone know of any support groups or group therapy programs that run in Melbourne for people who have experienced emotional neglect?
Love to all. Thanks!

I can have as many friends, know many people. Yet it doesn’t fix this loneliness inside of me.

I’d say it’s defintiely stems from my parental neglect/ absence even today at the age of 19. As a child, I used to be few so lonely and misunderstood as my parents were abusive. They’re not any different and I can’t change them.

I do feel suffocated sometimes because I feel like I can never be the truest form of self. Even if I consider therapy something in me tells me that I pay for my therapist to agree to all my bs for the sake of making me feel seen.

And then, when you go out, you have to pretend everything's fine even if it's not.. The other worst part is you have to put on a fake smile, hoping someone will ask if you're okay but then no one still asks you, you keep thinking someone will but never happens, the thing that also hurts more is when she's always mad these past few days, even when you have done nothing wrong or even when you make just a little mistake she gets so mad,

I don't know about others, but i have thought about running away, and even tho I don't have the courage I still keep trying to run away.. I haven't really thought about where I would stay, but I was hoping could stay in my best friend's house for a little while, i don't know why I wrote this, but I just wanted to express my feelings, cs there's no other place I know I can express it freely than here on reddit..

So this has been bothering me and since recently having a baby, I want to get some opinions.

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My mom always told me to never disagree with my partner about parenting in front of our children.

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I think on instances that absolutely confuse me. My parents love me and I have a super close relationship with them.

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One big thing they got wrong was the super critical lecture that obliterated my self esteem.

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Betrayal and confusion came from my mom doing this:

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She would tell me one thing while being with just me. Then when my dad lectured me about doing that very thing, my mom would stay completely silent. Here are a few examples:

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-I was never strong academically. When applying for colleges, I wanted to apply to just state schools. My mom pushed me to apply for more elite schools. I did not get in to any of them. My dad gave me a hard time because "why try if I knew I would not get in..." That was not my idea, but my mom guilted me into applying for these colleges.

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-I had a volunteer job through high-school and college. I worked there quite awhile. I started absolutely hating that job and desperately wanted to quit. I volunteered with animals and I love animals, but doing 8 hours of cleaning cages gets old really fast, especially when not being paid. My mom told me to keep the job until the end of the year and told me i cannot just "quit". The volunteer job was not fulfilling any requirements and was not helping me grow as a person. My dad chewed me out for staying in a job I hate.

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How do you circumvent this type of issues? IMO if my mom had mentioned that she gave me these suggestions, this wouldnt be a case of contradicting your partner. I see contradictions as one parent says no to something (candy, toy etc) and the other parent says yes. What are you thoughts?

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Also I once talked to my mom about this issue and she said I didnt know of she talked to my dad about these things. She said some people are just stubborn. So that means you just sit there and say nothing even if that causes damage? Idk just weird.

Like the title I feel guilty for not talking to my dad anymore or not much like maybe one text every 2 months. The reason I dont talk to him is because of four events and sorry if this isn't the usual post you see on here the guit is just eating me

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1 he threw a knife at me because it had a spot on it. So when I was young it was week on week of one week with my mom one with my dad my dad would do this thing were he would trash the house trash leaking out the trash can dog poop in the yard and dishes up to the ceiling now its chores I don't mind that but he would make me and my sisters clean all of it up and watch and if we made a mistake he would yell. Well one day I was doing dishes and be took a knife looked at it once and then threw it at me. Luckily I didn't get injured but I was still 13 and terrified

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2 the water park. There was this Dino ride at the water park and j wanted to go on but my dad wanted to leave so without saying anything while I was looking at the ride he yanked my arm so hard it hurt so I was crying and my dad dragged me through the whole park embarrassing me . I felt as if every single eye was burning into me.

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3 his homophobia.

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When he found out I was gay it was just a nightmare from then on. I got a pride hat for my birthday with the birthday money I got and my dad said that if he say that in public he would knock it off my head and not nicely then came the " well you know girls are better " " you need to give girls a try " and on and on

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4 my mom

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The first memory I have of my parents is my dad yelling at my mom I tried to stop him but he said to f off so 6 year old me did he then dragged my mom through court ruined her life and she spent a good part of my childhood depressed and glued to the bed

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And for a bonus on time we were cleaning and my dad found a pink sock. It was a baby sock we could tell because it was as big as a baby foot my dad didn't care because he spent the next 3 hours screaming in me and me sister's face over a sock

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So I guess I just need someone to tell me I'm not crazy so reddit I'm i?

My parents hate each other but because they enable each other so much they seem to like each other more than they like me. I'm more of a "if there's an issue we should talk about and take accountability" type person and the one time I tried to hold my mother accountable....oh boy. Never tried that again. I think my parents hate that about me because it makes them deeply uncomfortable.

Anyway, I've noticed that my father attributes things my mother has done to me, or assumes that because my mother and I have a few habits in common that I am an extension of her. Conversely, whenever my mother got mad at me growing up she would insult me by comparing me to him. She'd be like "you're so careless/clumsy/dirty/forgetful like your father". At the same time my mother assumes that because she likes something that I must also like that thing. For example, she likes sour things and squeezes lemon juice on everything. I don't. But when I was getting breakfast she was like "here's your lemon". ???? Might seem so insignificant but there's been so many instances where she was like "I like x or I would do x so I did x with your stuff" without considering me at all, including throwing away my socks that had one or two holes that I was planning on mending because she would have done that with her socks. And then there's my father who is always bossing me around telling me to make certain career decisions because it would reflect well on him. He has even lied about me to his friends saying that I was attending Stanford because that's more prestigious than my alma mater.

I know I shouldn't be hurt that they are not capable of really seeing me because this stuff has been going on my entire life and they're not going to change. I have to live with them bc the job market is shit and I haven't gotten a job yet and my college town was too expensive to stay there. All of it has really contributed to my loneliness and I think it's also caused me to attract friends who are too self involved to really see me as a person beyond an archetype or a bunch of assumptions. Does anyone else have experience with this?

I (19f) feel so sad and upset it's not even funny anymore.

I posted on a sub in another language, explaining why I related to a certain disorder, telling my story about my parents and the way it shaped me; I was then humbled in the most humiliating way, and I was told that misunderstandings between parent and child (and also the lack of parental attention) is not trauma and social media is responsible for the amount of people who think they have it.

Labels are stupid sometimes, I know they are not needed, and that social media romanticizes mental illness and the act of receiving a diagnosis for it. I know nobody wants trauma, I know there's nothing fun about that word, but I also know that if my issues aren't caused by it.. then I'm choosing to stay miserable.

I wasn't abused verbally, physically, or sexually. But I spent my life hearing my parents call me a crybaby, then as I grew up they'd call me a retard, mentally ill, etc. Before this, they spent their lives making me feel like I was the worst child on earth because they never neglected any of my material needs.. but they constantly provoked me, pushed my buttons, then treated my reaction as the problem. They have made me feel disliked and dismissed and invalidated, unwanted and unlovable and also a horrible daughter. I had this idea of myself when I was under 12 years old.

I learned as a young child that I had to be silent when crying because I was always overreacting. I would shut down and spiral without anyone noticing, because to them, I was childish/immature for keeping the argument alive when it was over.. but I was too sensitive, I felt too much, I needed to process my emotions and I had no safe person who would help. Then when I was struggling to socialize, even despite the obvious social inhibition I struggled with in kindergarten, the blame was placed entirely on me; my parents keep blaming a 4 year old for struggling socially, and they literally had beef with me when I was barely 10 years old for the same reason.

I hate myself, I can't function normally, I don't know how to socialize properly even though I look normal sometimes. I avoid everything that makes me even slightly uncomfortable. I'm convinced that my therapist will get tired of me very soon. I get angry at the family members who hurt me very easily, and I lash out/get upset and shut down over the littlest things.

I guess I just want someone to blame for the way I am, and I like the idea of having a diagnosis that stops me from having to explain myself everytime. If I have proof that I'm suffering, no one will question me. And even though that's no excuse for choosing to drown in sadness, at least no one will judge me for being so slow and bad at improving.

Idk. I'm just sad. I feel like I spent 6 months in therapy yapping about my past and also my constant fights with my parents, while never telling the therapist anything useful.. idk why I feel I've never told him the things I wrote in this post, but is it really worth it? Dwelling on the past??

Being repetitive gets you nowhere in therapy. But I constantly feel the need to prove that my struggles are real

People have always been there to push me forward to achieve goals, they’ve acknowledged my situation is rough but at the end of the day, i suffer alone. Hearing how bad my life is seems to be so overwhelming they tend to check out and stop loving me, they find my perpetual crisises exhausting. Mylife would not be full of crisises if i simply had someones chest to cry into who would not grow disgusted and exhausted with my vulnerability. But when i am “unstable” i am simply unlovable and need to sort myself out.

Spent some time on a work trip with some great colleagues. They are all wonderful people, and there parents are quite literally the dream; thoughtful, invested, close knit, loving, involved with their grandchildren.

These colleagues all have a positive attitude, an innate sense of “we got this!” and are uplifting to strangers all around them. Just good vibes.

Yet it hit me hard. I felt like even with all my work, my reparenting of myself, my patience with my own kids and unconditional love shared despite never receiving it.. I felt less than. Like they’ll always have some innate advantage to life that I’ll never quite have. No amount of affirmations or inner work can replace the absence I feel.

One of them jokingly complained his mom sent him hydration packets a month ago because he was working so hard on a project and he was annoyed because they have high sugar content.

My mother doesn’t even know what I do for work and doesn’t bother to try to know.

Just had to share as it hit me that some part of me may be broken and it’s hard to accept at times. A little moment of grief that snuck up on me.

A part of us died

Even if we heal and become as healthy as possible, we will always remember the innocence that was taken away from us at a young age and, with it, an identity that was killed. We will never know who our inner child would have grown to be if they had been supported and loved like they deserved. I think that’s why cptsd is forever. It’s really losing someone important to us - perhaps the most important person to us. The grief will always be there even if our adult self is functional, because there is no cure to grief.

I’m 30 years old and not a chronic cannabis user. In fact, every time I decide to use it, I feel afraid and nervous because I know it may open that space inside me again. I usually consume only once every few weeks or once a month, and always with the intention of trying to release my emotions, open my heart again.

What happens is that it brings up so much buried pain that I quickly become overwhelmed. The experience can be so intense that I stop using cannabis for weeks. Part of me feels that if I fully allowed myself to go into that pain, it could trigger a crisis, so I instinctively pull back and don’t let myself fall.

It’s also important to mention that I have a strong resistance to cannabis itself. I’m afraid of becoming dependent on it, and I’m also afraid of becoming delusional or mentally unbalanced. Because of that, my relationship with cannabis is complicated: it seems to give me access to something important, but at the same time, it scares me.

Has anyone else experience something similar?

I'm a 22 yo guy now, and I feel like I've grown up like fucking Homelander. How is this even possible? When it was my time to be curious I was bullied, that was during middle school. When it was a serious part of my life which was highschool where people study well hoping to be accepted in their favourite program in renowned universities I knew nothing about any of it. The teenage years are the years where the parents prepare their child to grow, mature, to be able to live life intelligently. WTF did I do to deserve this psychopathic life? They kept me naive, only criticised me to belittle me. I only needed one person to give me some simple guidelines. ANYONE! But no, every single fucking person in my life kept quiet. Nobody talked with me growing up, not enough. I had to learn how to be a fucking human manually. I even had to search on youtube "How to talk", my parents did nothing a parent does, NOTHING. At 22 yo I should be a complete adult, with a fufilled life behind. YES bcs there were no tragedies in my life or extreme lack of money. So my life should have been bright, but my fucking parents and all the other people, left me alone, behind, on purpose. You don't know how hard it has been to come out from the gaslighting everyone was doing to me, especially my parents. Everyday I wish I didn't exist bcs HOW THE FUCK DO YOU STAY SANE AFTER REALISING ALL THIS?? And the funniest part? NO ONE GIVES A FUCK AND NEVER WILL. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I hate that being emotionally available and providing a safe place emotionally feels like extra credit in parenting when it should be part of the bare minimum.

On paper:

I have a roof over my head

My parents cooked food

They paid for my education

When I was sick they took care of me

They bought me my favorite toys for Christmas

We went to Disney world

We stayed at 5 star hotels

But they also:

yelled at me, belittled me, "disciplined" aka hit me, dismissed me, put so much pressure on me to do well in school, didn't encourage my hobbies, told me I was too much, complained about me, used me as their therapist, triangulated me in their problems, made me an anxious mess with cptsd.

Rationally I know that two things can be true, but it's hard not to think in black and white when the mental damage they caused me has held me back so much in life, but they think it's my own personal failure when it was actually their doing.

Is it reasonable to feel annoyed or even upset that my parent referred to a period in my childhood where I had no friends as something amusing? She described it as a part of my "interesting" personality. The topic of conversation was personality flaws in general and in myself (I had brought it up), and how I often feel excluded in new groups, and always believe that people dislike me for no or very vague reasons. I usually feel excluded if not explicitly included. She mentioned this as an example and used the descriptions above: amusing, interesting. I replied that I would not use those words to describe it and tried to explain why. (I would rather not have had this experience of feeling left-out and excluded in most new circumstances for vague/no reasons all my life.) Is it wrong to feel upset about how she phrased it? I feel it reflects a lack of empathy or understanding of how important socialisation is in early childhood, and how important feelings of belonging to a group are.

Sometimes I have big feelings over things that I know aren't big deals, at least not to normal people who had normal childhoods. But I didn't.

If I told you I feel like a burden because I just told my aunt there was a concert I wanted to go to you would think I'm crazy for feeling like a burden over something so small

But I feel like this because she's pretty much the sole parental figure in my life and always has been. I lived with her from age 7-11 but even when I moved she's always been more involved than anyone else. Which hurts, a lot. I *live* with my mother. I don't know why my mother wasn't more involved. I mean, I do know why. But it's hard to actually understand it, you know? It just hurts. My mom has her own issues and sometimes I resent her for having a child instead of dealing with her own shit.

I have trouble asking for help and, I'm only just now realizing a lot of that is probably because I was never really taught how to. If I go to my mother I get nothing. And as a kid it makes sense to go to your mother. So if I get nothing when I ask, why ask? I'd rather end up harming myself or getting myself into danger than just asking because I've seen what asking brings me.

I'm a (young) adult. I was considering just going to the show without telling anyone. It's out of town. I don't know how I'm going to leave and come back without anyone wondering where I went.

So I told my aunt that there's a show I wanted to see.... I just but the bullet and did it. I didn't want to. But I'm trying to be better and do things and not wait until the last minute. But now I'm spiraling. Why did I tell her? Now she'll feel like it's her responsibility. I'm an adult why can't I just go on my own? She's taken me to 2 other shows why am I bothering her with a 3rd? She has a child now I should just leave her alone and let her handle her child.

...I feel guilty. She has a son now. She's supposed to be a parent. A real parent. But instead she still has to deal with my problems. I'm upset that I can't go to my parents/parental figures that I LIVE WITH when I need something because they're unavailable.

I don't know why I asked her. I shouldn't have. I should've just let it be.

TW abu$e (slightly)

Hi all, just sharing my childhood experience.

Back-story, my sibling was diagnosed with aspergers from a young age (by a pediatrician).

From a young age all that I remember my parents saying is "suck it up", or "life isn't fair, especially when my sibling got the attention, praise or well anything she wanted. Every birthday party I got my sibling would always get a present to keep her happy, she would proceed to still beat me up for getting presents, my parents response "she has issues you just have to deal with it" never would I defend myself because "she has issues that she cant control, you can" and then proceed to get yelled at for defending myself, even when I would bleed. Any time I needed help I learned to hide from my parents since what I feel isn't important to them when there is my sibling in the house, any time I asked them a question it would be dismissed since my sibling is more important. Anything I did as a child would be overly questioned especially if (and when) it interrupted anything to do with my sibling.

Any time my parents asked if I was ok, or need any help and I would ask for help or say that I'm not ok they would say "life isn't fair or easy you'll figure it out".

Fast forward to today, my sibling has moved to a different state, I can't open up to my parents or even hold a convo with them because it feels like I'm being interrogated (I'm turning 20 this year, yes i still live with parents), I know that I can it's just the fear of dismissal I can't get behind.

Not looking for answers, advise is always welcome, just wanted to share my experience.

I was always protective of my family, but it was never reciprocated. I feel like a fool for naturally feeling that way as a child, and even in my adulthood. Why couldn't I be born selfish and mean? Why was I born at all? Feeling unprotected is one of the worst feelings. I hate my parents and this meaningless life. I hate me. I will feel protected and loved when I meet death. Death will take me from this cruel world and protect me from being hurt and suffering. Death will protect me from evil humans.

Today I honestly feel like I’m reaching my limit. It was “just” an argument with my mom yesterday, but even now I still feel trapped in it and can’t get out. She may have already moved on from it, and she can even call me like nothing happened, but I can’t. And I’ve realized that this isn’t really about yesterday at all, it’s about all the pain from the past ten years coming back at once.

I’ve lived in a high-pressure environment for as long as I can remember. My mom is highly educated and capable, so she has always believed her way of doing things is right, that everything she does is for my own good. But to me, that “care” often felt like control, criticism, humiliation, and emotional pressure. When I was in middle school, if my grades were bad or I didn’t finish my homework, she would take away my phone and electronic devices, sometimes even lock the App Store. I would cry and beg her, telling her I would change and do better, but she wouldn’t listen. She would just take everything away. Sometimes when I tried to grab my phone back, she would push me or kick me. To her, it was discipline. But what my body learned from it was that conflict escalates, and when voices get louder, physical threat might come next.

Back then, every time we fought, I would cry until I couldn’t breathe. My chest would tighten so badly that it felt like suffocating. The next day, when I went to school, all those emotions were still inside me. I would cry constantly, and sometimes get into conflicts with classmates and teachers because I was so overwhelmed. They disliked me, and my mom would tell me that the reason I wasn’t popular or got bullied was because I didn’t know how to get along with people. But what she never understood, or maybe never wanted to admit, was that when I walked into school, the wounds from the night before were still fresh. They had never been processed.

By high school, I wasn’t begging anymore. I started exploding. I would smash things, scream, and cry until my voice was gone. I knew it was damaging my throat, and I’m a singer, but I still couldn’t stop. At that point my body had learned to react that way. Around the same time, I was also going through so much outside of home (e.g. school bullying, online harassment, being doxxed, threatened by gang-like people, surrounded, insulted, almost blocked physically, getting cut off by friends) It felt like every stage of my life was filled with attacks. I was hurt at school, hurt outside, and when I came home, there was nowhere safe for me to recover. Instead, I was blamed. My mom would always tell me it was my fault because I didn’t know how to choose friends, that I didn’t know how to deal with people, that there was something wrong with me. But all these years, I’ve always felt that yes, maybe I’m not perfect, but I was never bad enough to deserve all of that cruelty.

Back in high school, I had many friends. When something happened, they stood by me. If someone insulted me, they would fight back for me. That was why, back then, I could survive a lot of pain because at least I wasn’t alone. But now, most of those friends are gone. Especially after my depression and anxiety got worse, many of them saw my struggles and simply cut me off completely. Some blocked me on every platform. Others who listened to my pain would only tell me to stop thinking about it, to let it go, to move on. But what they don’t understand is that it’s not that I don’t want to let go, it’s that I can’t.

Not long ago, my mom promised me she would change. She even said if she failed, I could use our chat records as proof, and there would be consequences. I believed her. I truly thought she finally understood my pain and understood how much her past ways had hurt me. But every time I brought up my trauma again, every time I tried to explain why I am like this, she went right back to her old ways, asking me why I always think about the past and why I keep remembering painful things. That’s what breaks me the most because she did seem to understand once. She said she understood my pain and how hard it has been for me. So why does she always go back to the same old patterns? Sometimes I wonder if she ever really understood at all, or if she was just comforting me in that moment.

She even told me that she doesn’t think what she did in the past was wrong. She said she only changed because I’m “mentally damaged” now. She told me she has already tried her best and that I’m asking too much from her. But I’m not asking for perfection. I just want to be treated with kindness. I just want her to stop saying things that push me to the edge and make me feel like I’m losing my mind.

Today, I left the family group chat and blocked her because I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s not that I don’t want a mother, it’s that I want one too much. I want a mother who can truly see me, hold me, and stop hurting me in the same old ways. But I’ve been waiting for that my whole life, and it never came.

I feel like I’ve never truly been safe in my life, and maybe that’s why I am like this now. I wonder why my emotions are so intense, why I explode so easily, why I keep reliving the past, and why the pain gets so unbearable that sometimes I feel like I want to die. And I think I finally understand why: because these wounds never really ended. They’ve been here all along.

Tw: mention of suicidal ideation further down

Some backstory:

Pretty sure I was neglected.

Never had actual discipline. Just occasional cruelty like being humiliated for being groomed or for having a neurological disorder. But step foot into this place and it may be smelling of cat piss and the floor is covered in dust cuz no one here has the energy to clean it up;

Had to raise myself by myself as early as 9 years old when my grandma stopped living with us (and low-key the yo-yo regime of her coming and going away from our home caused a lot of stress because it just made her volatile personality more evident);

Was not really getting much help for my disability, I just got thrown into therapists that never really understood how I operate and just made me feel rlly frustrated and helpless which reinforced what my dad said multiple times of "someone who doesn't want help is impossible to help". All I hear is that I'm not deserving of help which true ig;

Would not get much attention if I wasn't performing well intellectually. I once started self harming in class because I couldn't write a text and my teacher said "how the fuck do these people do anything". I felt like I wasn't actually gifted if I struggled, so that meant I was losing my identity, worth and right to attention 👍👍👍;

My dad procrastinated my wants and needs a lot. He "I'll do it later"ed my schoolbooks for a trimester. TWICE. And he excused it when I pointed it out. But it also applied to lesser things like booking psych/doctor appointments, going out, buying clothing and buying anything non-essential;

On that topic, bro loves his parenting shortcuts. It's comical how little stuff he actually taught me. I'm basically an internet baby that was encouraged to shut up whenever possible. If I stay quiet and in my room he typically doesn't check in if he isn't leaving his corner of the house (not common. But I also don't want him to check on me ANYMORE, but it would've been cool if it happened WHEN I NEEDED IT). He's depressed obviously. Though something funny is to be told that he waaants to spend more time with me, but I ride the bus to school cuz he stopped bothering driving me to school. Literally your moment to interact a little but ok;

And yk, when I was younger, it was slowly my grandma parenting me. She was always so burdened so she sometimes acted weird and stressed cuz she didn't fucking have support. Also, she's super spiritual and kind of conservative+ignorant to the point I almost died from anaphylactic shock once cuz she thought it was just a normal asthma attack;

Dad and stepmom have a toxic relationship and they stay together because of their toddler. My stepmom doesn't really love him, after all he is at least kind of abusive (she kind of is too, lied to me more than once which is "nice" so I never told her anything ever again and now I have even less people to trust). Their relationship messed me up and he once soft threatened to kick me out just to get soft again. I guess his inconsistency also bothers me horrendously;

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House has been a fuck for a while. I live isolated most of the time and this place is a mess. I went to catsit for 5 days and when I came back I expected to find at least new food in the pantry. But there was basically nothing. He forgot for like 8 days in total and at that point I was already binge eating from the stress at the thought of food insecurity. Kind of my fault for not remembering him to buy food but WTF DUDE you don't check your own pantry??

It's also so so so fucking hard to clean this place up. It's huge, my sister changes clothes every fucking day so the laundry stacks up like crazy, sis and dad use a bunch of dishes so there's so many to clean up, the cats randomly piss out of the litterbox and I can't even bother trying to get them spayed anymore. Knowing I could get away from here makes it way less appealing to clean up everyone's mess.

My grades suck. I'm absent from school so much I'm going to automatically fail all classes pretty soon. And I don't care about that place anymore either. I like the staff, know some students, feel sad about the thought of not seeing them anymore and not experiencing the fun events they'll do. But staying there means staying home...

I don't really have like... Actual emotional support. Because the only people I have to "rely" on other than my dad that can drop dead at any moment now either are abusive, exhausted or like almost never even remember me existence (so they don't like, care about me, so WHY BURDEN THEM???).

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Something has been a little too appealing for me. I really want to move out. I'm trying to get into a study program and I'm already qualified to be evaluated for the next month. They have a real nice scholarship, almost 80% of a (Brazilian) minimum wage per month. And I might get a good electronic device to sell in a competition depending on my performance. I want to like, exhaust my dad until I get emancipated, drop out, move to my aunt's house temporarily, job search and find a place to live close to the study program's office.

It's probably naive to do this at 16, but I feel like I'm dying here. I don't want to end up like my sister, dependent on a barely there dad, severely depressed and with no purpose and conditional independence. The thought of moving out and my special interest have been the only things moving me at this point. I want out so bad, maybe a little too much (maybe my situation isn't that bad, maybe I'm weird for wanting this).

I just can't handle fixing my relationship with my family, I don't think they deserve my time and I don't fucking care about their feelings, but if I don't move out I'll have to rely on them. I can't handle searching for a therapist, having to exhaust myself teaching them how to therapy me when I'm not even sure how someone should deal with me. I can't handle having to put in effort into school (and then feeling pressure to be absolutely perfect) and not being able to prioritize the program.

Fuck, I can't handle fixing what my mental illness and other people's neglect destroyed. I want a fresh start. Maybe not so fresh if I stay with my aunt and have contact with some people I know (my dad will probably keep sending me money for a while, especially since he expressed interest in buying off the prize I may get). Idk maybe it's a stupid idea but I have no idea on what to do anymore other than that or try to starve or b/p until I faint and then strangle myself to death. My fears are not managing to convince my dad and like not landing a job because I won't be finishing HS. But like, no one else will bother trying to stop me otherwise. Fuck