Was I abused? Am I messed up because of it?

A part of me wonders if the reason I have so many issues (just read my signature) is because of long-term emotional abuse.
A part of me also wonders if what has happened to me really counts as abuse.

My post is going to be very long, but I hope you can bare with me. I have a lot to get off my chest.
I haven't told anyone about these things except for my best friend. However, I know her opinion on these events is biased, because she is my friend. I want to seek out new, unbiased opinions. But I'm not very comfortable sharing these things. I have been through a world of therapy and such, but can't bring myself to be open with therapists. And I can't even talk to my other friends about. My best friend is the only one I feel comfortable talking to.
I've also called the suicide hotline a few times, when I've been down. I thought I might be able to get things off my chest if I talked to them, especially since there was anonymity, but I always hang up very early in the call because I feel so uncomfortable.
I don't know why I feel the need to explain this. I guess it's just part of my nature, a part of what the true problem is: I don't like complaining because I don't want people to think I'm begging for attention, or trying to be dramatic. Because I know my situation isn't that bad. I wasn't physically abused. I wasn't starved or neglected. But I did have issues.

So I decided to look up "psychological forums". And I found this. So now I will try to talk here, and see what others think about my situation. What psychological damage has or has not happened to me.

Here we go....

My mom and dad were drug addicts. And alcoholics. My dad would hit my mom. When my mom found out she was pregnant, she stopped drinking and doing drugs, because she wanted a healthy baby. However, despite her pregnancy, my dad still punched her, even in the stomach.

So, she gave birth to me. I was a healthy, normal baby.
Shortly after my birth, my mom resumed her drug and alcohol abuse. When I was about 6 months old, my mom went to jail, and I was left with my dad to care for me.
No one knows exactly what happened in those next 6 weeks. No one knows what my dad did to me or how he cared for me. But the cops had been called and I had to be removed from my dad. The story goes that he was drunk and using me to pandhandle.

Then I went into foster care. This was for about 2 months. Unfortunately, my foster family had to move. So I was then placed into the care of my grandmother.
Who unfortunately died less than a month later. I was left alone with a dead body for over 12 hours, no one to feed me or care for me, and I had bruises on my arms because I had ran into something.

I was then given to my great uncle and great aunt. Whom I called grandpa and grandma.
When I was about a year and a half old, my mom got out of jail. So then I was taken from my grandpa and grandma and placed back into the "care" of my mom and dad.

Let me remind you, they both continued to abuse substances, and my dad continued to be abusive.
It was until I was 3 years old that my mom left my dad.

Now, my mom came back to her home state, and I was able to see my grandpa and grandma again. They took me in their care and got into a custody battle with my mom. This lasted until I was 4 years old. Eventually my mom was granted full custody of me.

Despite my mom's full custody, I spent about 65% of my time with my grandparents, and 35% of my time with my mom. Sometime within the next few years, my mom stopped doing drugs and drinking. That's good, at least.

My grandpa and grandma were the best ever. I loved them to the world and back. But it was evident this early on (at 4ish) that I had issues. I was diagnosed with ADHD and had to go to a lot of therapy. I think the therapy was a part of the custody battles.

However, all I can remember from years 4-6 was love. I don't have bad memories from that time. I remember loving my grandpa and grandma. Then the day before my 7th birthday, my grandma died.

So my 7th birthday sucked. And my 7th year sucked. I always threw a fit when my grandpa dropped me off at my mom's. I would cry and cry and demand to stay with my grandpa. I would lie in the middle of the road and hope that a care would hit me. I tried running away several times just because I didn't want to stay with my mom.

This obvious preference for my grandpa would later become a bigger wedge.

I continued spending most of my time with my grandpa, and a little time with my mom. As I said before, I love love loved my grandparents. You know what the worst thing my grandpa ever did to me was?
I told a lie, and he said, "That's a bunch of baloney."
I always remember that, because at the time I felt betrayed, because my grandpa had never said anything like that before. My mom always cussed and said stuff like "that's #######4," so even at that young age, I realized "baloney" was suppose to be in place of a cuss word.

Now, looking back - how funny! Seriously - how great of a man can one be if that's the WORST memory I have of him?

Anyway, I'm getting distracted.

So, my grandpa got a brain tumor when I was 11.
The worst words I ever heard were, "You're going to be living with your mom from now on."
I would say this is where the real story begins (I KNOW, I'm sorry, I said it would be long...)

I was not happy. It was very awkward. I was not use to being around my mom all day. I hated her. I hated her with a passion.

Let me tell you why.

My grandparents meant the world to me. But she used them as a weapon. All my childhood, I remember conversations where she'd say "You're a spoiled brat! You only like them better because they buy you things!"
And I always resented her for that. Yes, my grandparents were loaded, it's not a lie. Yes, my mom was dirt poor, also true. But that didn't matter to me. It didn't matter to them. It only mattered to her.
She could buy me everything I wanted and I would still love them more. Because they would never say things like that about her. My mom would always say that my grandparents were trying to "steal" me from her. She said *they* were the reason I didn't love her. She said they brainwashed me. She said they only pretended to love me because they hated her and wanted revenge.
Meanwhile, what bad and horrible things did they say about her? Nothing. They never once told me my mom was a bad person. They never blamed her for anything.

So anyway. My grandpa had his surgery. I went from spending every day with him, to instead only seeing him once or twice a month. He went from using a cane, to using a walker, to being in a wheelchair. 3 days before my 14th birthday, he passed away.

And it's been a crappy life ever since.

My mom is not a nice person. I don't know if the things she does counts as emotional abuse or not, but here are some stories that stick out:

1. When I was about 7, my mom took me in the car and stared driving to the middle of nowhere.
I asked her where we were going, and she replied, "Somewhere with no witnesses."

2. This was when I was about 13. My mom was chasing me around the house trying to hit me with a remote or brush or something. I went back to my room after the argument. I had been prescribed seroquel for insomnia. Whenever we got in fights, I always took my medicine so I could go to sleep and avoid her. Since this fight was so bad, I really wanted to fall asleep as soon as possible, so I took the entire bottle, even though it was almost full.
However, my mom and I started arguing again. I threatened to call the cops. She said, "How about I just drive you to the courthouse right now?"
I thought this was very odd, but I said okay. So I got in the backseat of the car. My sleeping pills started working, so I didn't use anymore energy on talking to her. She started screaming at me and asking why I wasn't talking. I said "Sorry, I took all my seroquel..."
Then she said, "Oh #######4, you fat heifer, no you did not."
I wasn't even angry, I was just confused. I tried closing my eyes.
About 20 minutes later, I realized we weren't in the same city anymore. I said something like, "Why are we here? Aren't you driving to the courthouse?"
Then she replied, "No you idiot, the courthouse isn't open on ######6 Sundays." Then she started speeding up, at least 20 miles over. She said "How about I just kill us both right now and end it?"
I remember really being scared. I also remember that I was so drugged out that I would be helpless and couldn't protest. I softly mumbled "No..." and tried to stay awake.

3. This one isn't quite dramatic, but I had this written down and remembered it.
So, somewhat recently, my mom had been yelling at me over something. Then my cat meowed (he was in her room), and she said "TAKE YOUR CAT OUT OF MY ROOM!"
I was like, "Really? No." [I know this was uncalled for, but I was pissed that she would ask me to take the cat out of her room after she had just yelled at me.]
Then she said, "Fine, I'll THROW him out, and if I break his legs, it's your fault!"

Normally I wouldn't bat an eye at a threat like this. But from my room (my door was open), I saw her open her door, and she slammed the cat on the ground. He was fine, it didn't seem to phase him, but that was the moment when I realized her threats had the potential to become realities.

I've had to put up with things like this almost every single day. Of course, some days are worse than others. And sometimes I react badly too. But not so much anymore. It feels like I'm more stressed out now than I was when I was younger. I've overdosed on my meds so many times. I now have depression and such severe anxiety. And I am scared of my mom. I'm scared that if I say the wrong thing, if I ask her what TV show she's watching or when she gets off work, it'll be the wrong move and I'll set off an alarm.
Every little thing can be an argument. And everything is always "my fault".

I remember just yesterday. My cat seems like he's had a sezuire. I'm not sure. But my mom said, "If he gets put down, is it alright with you if we put the other cat down?"
I said, "I can't lose them both at once."
Her exact reply was to raise her voice and say, "Okay, FINE! YOU WIN."
I was like, "What? Are we arguing?"
And she said "Nooo. No. Forget it, YOU WIN, I won't put him down, we get to have it YOUR WAY!"

I was like "Okay..." and left her room. A while later, I asked if she was okay, and she said "Oh really, don't start with me!"

It just feels really bad to constantly feel like I've done something wrong and no matter how much I think of it, I don't know what I could have done differently.

I don't have much to say other than that I was only able to stop my family being abusive to me by ignoring anything they say and giving up on forgiving them. I feel very empty inside like this, but giving bad people any power is a terrible mistake. I can't wait to move away and be alone for a while.

It is neglect which is abuse. Also the lack of proper parenting makes life very hard for the child when they are grown up. Very hard. It makes parenting very hard as you have to create your own template.

Actually I will say that without your grandfather you may have some very serious issues. Very serious.

How are you now ??

Do you have friends that you feel can support you.??

How are you at school ??

Terry E. wrote:It is neglect which is abuse. Also the lack of proper parenting makes life very hard for the child when they are grown up. Very hard. It makes parenting very hard as you have to create your own template.

Actually I will say that without your grandfather you may have some very serious issues. Very serious.

How are you now ??

Do you have friends that you feel can support you.??

How are you at school ??

I am messed up in a lot of ways. I'm interested in psychology in order to better understand what events have lead me to be "abnormal".

I'm not really okay to be honest, but I try to remain happy.

I only have "friends" that I have met online. None of them matter to me except my best friend. I met her about 7 years ago. But she lives halfway across the country. I'm hoping to move in with her one day.

I dropped out of school in 8th grade(around the time my grandpa died) because I developed anxiety. Right now I'm trying to study for my GED. I'm enrolled in very short classes. But I've already missed half the days from anxiety. The thing is that I want to go to school so bad. I try to make up for it by studying online and using textbooks at home. But I keep beating myself up for it and hating myself.

It sounds corny but life is a marathon not a sprint.

I think the internet has been amazing for people like us, to realize we are not alone, and "our abnormal" is normal for our life experience.

This is a personal observation. I am not a pysch professional in any way, BUT know way too much about the stuff that has made you who you are.

We can be victims, or we can be survivors. I have met many of each. I am betting you will be a survivor.

You have a vision of life few will ever have. The price was very high, but it is still a strength.

Make goals, study, work out plans, be careful, don't fall into the trap of " self medicating" when life gets tough. I think long term you will be okay.

Terry E. wrote:It sounds corny but life is a marathon not a sprint.

I think the internet has been amazing for people like us, to realize we are not alone, and "our abnormal" is normal for our life experience.

This is a personal observation. I am not a pysch professional in any way, BUT know way too much about the stuff that has made you who you are.

We can be victims, or we can be survivors. I have met many of each. I am betting you will be a survivor.

You have a vision of life few will ever have. The price was very high, but it is still a strength.

Make goals, study, work out plans, be careful, don't fall into the trap of " self medicating" when life gets tough. I think long term you will be okay.

Thank you^^

Was I abused? Am I messed up because of it?

I have asked myself this same question and I've asked it in therapy too. Yes, I was abused.

Am I messed up because of it? I'm not messed up, but some issues I have, are related to the abuse. A lot of the issues are from it. The good thing is that I've had good people in my life who have helped me see and understand myself better. I've come to see who I really am and I'm a good person. And I'm as perfect as they come, considering everything I've gone through. All this and more are my actual realizations I've seen in me throughout my adult life.

I think that you were abused. I'm a mom and I do not ever treat my kids like that. To me, that is extreme behavior from a mom in how they act. It's not motherly. It's dysfunction, in my opinion.

I have anxiety and I doubt myself a lot. I have a hard time trusting people for different reasons. I've become stronger as the years go by and I learn to better handle my interactions with other people who have some negativity and involve me in their drama. They can go to hell for all I care. They can go ###$ themselves. I just stopped playing into their games and I gladly move on. I try my best to process my feelings so that I am ok emotionally, also with the help of a therapist. I do good on my own now because I have tools to guide me and help me along. You can reach this step too. I have learned to let go of my past but I've still learned so much from it as well. Am I a good person? Yes, because I am. It's the truth. You are too. For someone to have the insight to see how wrong it is to be treated like you were, you are seeing wrong and right. You side with the truth of the situation. No, you are not messed up. You are who you are and have been shaped to be the person you have become and part of that has been from going through so much suffering in your life. No one tries to take their life unless things are pretty bad or even desperate. You've gone through an immense amount of suffering. Don't forget to pat yourself on the back because you deserve it. You've come a long way. It's hard to be open about what you've gone through. People made light of what I went through, even close friends who gave me the guilt trip over hating my mom. I don't hate her like I used to , but she is also out of my life, almost completely.

When I left home I felt such peace and tranquility within me. I felt safe from the screaming and yelling. I felt safe from constant criticism. My mom would make my life a living hell for keeping in touch with my dad. I love my dad more than I could ever love my mom. It's how it really is. She earned my hate, is how I see it. She doesn't see it. She gave birth to me but failed to follow through. Just a fact. Don't make light of all you've gone through. You deserve better and you need to strive for it. A day at a time, a moment at a time--even. Be truthful to yourself and it's always good to be validated and encouraged by others so that you feel their love and support in your life. Keep being strong like you are. Just you writing this out took courage as you set yourself up to be rejected or to be told otherwise. But you were not rejected. This is a good place to be yourself and to vent, to share and to receive much needed support. Places like this can help pave a path for you to take and be on the road to feeling the goodness of yourself and your life. Hugs if wanted.

I don't know what I should do anymore.

I've never thought it was okay to blame suicidal thoughts on someone else. I don't think that's fair.

But at the same time, it's a fact that the only time I feel like killing myself is when I have conflicts with my mother.

Not all my problems are because of my mom. But none of the other problems make me want to die. And I can't even tell what's normal and what's abnormal. Is it normal to feel suicidal? Is it normal to want to die? Don't all kids eventually say they want to kill themselves and then blame it on their parent(s)/guardian(s)?
Aren't I just a spoiled brat?
Or is it just that I have been raised to think that way?

Am I really a terrible person for waking my mom up?
Is it normal for her to say I've ruined everything because I woke her up?
I went into her room intentionally. I wanted to turn her TV down. I acknowledge this is my fault, and that's what makes this so confusing.
In my mind, I think she's overreacting. In my mind, I think to myself, this isn't right. If I was woken up, I wouldn't react like this.
But she has told me in the past, "Oh, sorry not everyone can be a perfect saint like you and keep their problems to themselves. Normal people get angry! If I want to yell and cuss, I can, I'm an adult!"

And a part of me knows that's true. I can't expect everyone to react to problems the same way I do. Everyone copes differently.
But at the same time, I know that the way I am writing this is obviously biased. I'm obviously wanting people to agree with me and tell me my mom is overreacting.

The quote is legitimate, but I am leaving out that my mom was really angry when she said that. I know people say things they don't really mean when they are upset.
That's why I kept quiet when she said it.

I wish I had a video camera. I wish I could record all moments, both mine and my mother's, so that someone can have an unbiased opinion. So someone can tell me I'm not being a brat. So someone can tell me I'm justified in being hurt.

But that can't happened. I believed in it for a while. I believed it when I wrote my original post.

But I was just fooling myself. I wanted to blame someone else, blame my mom, for my own self-deprecating thoughts. It would be too hard to realize that, on my own accord, I have created a miserable life.

Then I think back, to how desperately I wanted to move. And how even as a kid, all I wanted was to get away.
"Just wait until you're 18, then move out" - Is it normal to have heard this quote from so many adults? Is it normal that at such a young age, I already wanted to get away?

Now I'm 20 - and I realized I can get away. I tried moving out, but...my mom told me I can't. Not until she gets her car fixed.

She's never getting it fixed. This is a fact. She has no money. She'll never want to get it fixed so long as she has my car to drive.

I'm so conflicted. I don't know what to do. I can't move out without her saying I can. I know it's stupid. But I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I did. I can't just get up and leave her without a car. I can't do that. Every single person on this earth deserves kindness. It's hard for me to want to be kind to her, but taking my car away from her is too much of an evil act. She would struggle too much. She can't afford a taxi every day to work. And I don't want her to be mad at me. She'd be so mad.

Edit: I accidentally woke her up about half an hour ago..and she's still randomly cussing/yelling. It's aimed at me. I'm so stressed out. I don't know what to do. How do I make this better? What can I possibly do? I can't think. I apologized. I apologized so many times. Then I went in my room and didn't make another sound. But she's still continuing.
"I have to work all freaking night!
Why?!"
She just said this as I was typing.
What do I do?

Their is depression from mental illness. It can be fixed with medication. Then there are people who have a life full of bad memories and like in your case real day to day problems that seem without solution. They have a crap life - that is not depression

I always kept telling myself I would not fail because that is just what she wanted.

You need a plan, you need to make it a step by step. Attainable steps.

First step is the plan.

reminds me of Southpark and the "under pants gnomes", maybe some humor right now would help.

Terry E. wrote:Their is depression from mental illness. It can be fixed with medication. Then there are people who have a life full of bad memories and like in your case real day to day problems that seem without solution. They have a crap life - that is not depression

I always kept telling myself I would not fail because that is just what she wanted.

You need a plan, you need to make it a step by step. Attainable steps.

First step is the plan.

reminds me of Southpark and the "under pants gnomes", maybe some humor right now would help.

Thank you^^

I guess I'm using this as my personal little ranting thread...

But I just remembered something kind of funny.

Well, lately I've been questioning myself and realizing that what I feel when my mom yells/cusses at me is fear. Deep to the bone, fear.

And I've thought this was odd. I've been wondering why I'm afraid of her.
But then I thought back - a memory surfaced. Of when I was a kid.
I remember being afraid to eat food my mom made, in case she had poisoned it. I never had this fear about food from any other person. Only my mom's. But I ate it anyway, because I didn't want her to find out I was scared. Because if she knew, then she would get angry.
I always had this fear when I was a kid.

But when I got older - I was maybe 14, 15... - I decided to tell her the truth. I don't know what brought it on. But I told her...I told her that when I was a kid, I was always afraid she wanted to kill me through poisoning my food.

She was disgusted. She told me my grandpa had to have planted that in my brain - that a kid doesn't just get that thought from nowhere.
But it wasn't true. I was appalled. Why blame my dead grandpa? How is it his fault that I was so terrified of you, even as a child, that I thought you were going to kill me?

It's just funny - the things I forget as time passes. Just the other day, on Facebook, I was looking at the messages I sent to my former best friend. I always ranted to him about my mom. And I had forgotten just how randomit was, you know? I mentioned to him that my mom called me a picky eater when it comes to fruit, and I told her I liked pears and apples, and she immediately yelled at me that she had pears in the cabinet and was mad at me because I hadn't eaten them yet.

It's just the little things. They all add up over the years. What other things do I not even remember?