Family Drama Stories - page 7

We all have those times when we take a good long look at our lives and think, "Wow, my family is basically toxic." Yeah, that’s me, sitting here at 17, kind of over all the crap I’ve had to deal with since I was little; like, when did it become completely normal for people who are supposed to love and support you to treat you like you’re some low-life piece of trash? I mean, seriously? It’s been this way as far back as I can remember, and sometimes I wonder if anyone else feels like this or if it’s just me – does anyone else out there have a family that just doesn’t know how to be nice? It’s like I’ve been living in a sitcom that got canceled after one season, with a cast of characters who just can’t figure out how to act right. I constantly find myself waiting for the finish line of high school to come into sight because that’s when I know I can finally break free. You know, the moment where I can just stand up and say, “Screw you all! I’m outta here!” But here I am, still enduring endless lectures from my parents about how I’m not good enough or how I need to shape up because apparently, my life goals were decided by them when they thought having kids would be a walk in the park. How do they expect me to thrive when I feel suffocated by all their demands? It’s maddening! It’s disheartening to think that I’m surrounded by people who don’t even see my potential, who seem to want to keep me small and miserable. Like, where’s the understanding? Where’s the compassion? Where’s the basic human decency? I’ve tried to talk to them about how I feel, but every time I open my mouth, it’s like throwing a paper plane into a hurricane; all it does is get torn apart and blown away. Have you ever had a conversation that felt like you were speaking a completely different language? I can’t count the number of times I’ve faced resentment just for wanting to express my thoughts. It’s as if my voice doesn't even exist; it’s frustrating because I have dreams, aspirations, actual plans of how to better my life. I want to work hard and make something of myself, but instead of encouragement, I get subjected to eye rolls and dismissive comments. It’s unhealthy and toxic, and there’s no other way to put it! Honestly, I’d rather be alone than in a house where I’m constantly reminded of my so-called shortcomings; I have no clue how they think this is going to help me in the long run. And, sure, they say they care; of course, they do! But their version of care seems to be wrapped in criticism and negativity, which makes me roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised I don’t see my brain. There’s nothing quite like feeling like the black sheep of the family, which is ironic because I sometimes wish I could turn into a literal sheep and just roam peacefully, far away from all the chaos. Even when we’re all sitting together for dinner, it feels like a battleground where every stare cuts deeper than a knife. You can cut the tension with a knife; it’s palpable! The silences are more deafening than the arguments, where everyone just eats in a hollow, uncomfortable silence, avoiding each other’s gazes like I'm some kind of alien invading their planet; and for what? I’m just trying to survive here! I guess the only silver lining is that I’m learning resilience. I’m becoming stronger with each drama-filled day. I’m looking forward to the moment I can fly away and create a life that is mine, free from emotional blackmail; it’s almost like my own personal rebellion! I keep reminding myself that this toxic environment doesn’t define who I am or what I can achieve. I hope to find my own supportive community outside of this mess, a place where people encourage you to chase your dreams and don’t tear you down at every opportunity. I know there’s a world out there full of kindness and warmth, waiting for me to find it! Yes, I may have a toxic family, but I believe I can break this cycle! How many of you feels this way too? Isn’t it time we all just took charge of our own narratives and molded them into something beautiful?

I'm a young teen and the 3rd/youngest child in my family.

My mom has schizophrenia(she hears things rather than hallucinates) and terrible paranoia, and all my life I had to live with this ALONE. My father works abroad though he regularly calls to check up on us, and my older brothers moved to live with my grandma when I was younger. I'm guessing it's to run away from my mom, but I was left with her. Maybe because I was too young to understand things, and they needed to have someone to live with her so she won't be lonely... But because of this, I've been isolated, lonely, drained, and sometimes depressed.

I had to deal with my mom staying at my school and wait until I got dismissed every single day for 4 fucking years. I was a child back then so I didn't understand anything and thought it was normal. I'd have my friends and classmates ask me why she stays at school and I would never know what to say so I'd repeat the same answer, "Because she cares about me." Well, I wasn't exactly wrong because she does care about me but she worries WAY TOO MUCH. I thought it was okay at first until I couldn't even go anywhere in school campus without her following me. I couldn't eat with any of my friends at the cafeteria because I was eating with her. Hell, I couldn't even have fun with the cool kids for the first time because she was there following me. I would tell her, "I wanna be independent and go to school alone!" but she'd never listen. EVEN TILL THIS DAY, I'm currently in high school and will soon go to Senior high, and though she doesn't stay at my school anymore, she still won't listen to me and continues to treat me like I can't take care of myself, like I don't know how to get home, like I'm still 6 years old. I hate it. My father tries to help, especially when he's home over the holidays. He'd argue with my mom to let me be a teenager. But she won't listen and make up excuses.

A year ago, I was at a very depressed point in my life and started self-harming. It got to a point where I wanted to see a guidance counselor because I couldn't take it anymore. She was honestly the only adult I felt comfortable being honest with. After opening up to her, she recommended I go see a psychiatrist and give her the results so she knows what she's dealing with and will know how to help me. She had to call a parent about this but because my father is working abroad, she had to call my mom. But it wasn't a good idea to tell my mom because when she did, my mom thought it was POINTLESS. So my guidance counselor had to call my guardian, my oldest brother. Thankfully, he listened and took me to see a psychiatrist(it took him a few weeks though for him to finally take me to one.) Because I'm young, I needed to have a guardian with me when I go to see my psychiatrist, so I had both of my older brothers. I don't know if the psychiatrist even helped, I mean, she did help a bit with dealing with my mom but I already knew how. I've gotten used to it. I think it was better if I saw a therapist. I haven't been able to give my guidance counselor the results back because I thought I could handle things on my own, which obviously I'm not doing good at if I'm typing my life in an anonymous venting site😭🙏

Since then, I don't know why but I've felt drained from my own family. I looked up to my brothers but they barely talk to me. They barely helped me at all when I lived alone with my mom. I thought they would because they went through similar things as me when they were younger, but they never really did much. My oldest brother would pick me up and drive me to see a date or go to a sleepover so my mom won't follow and my other brother would help me with assignments I have struggles with but honestly that's it. I don't want to sound ungrateful and expect more from my brothers, I know how much they went through but I just wish they treated me like their little sister, someone who's struggling the same way they were.

I'm only ever in contact with them when it comes to something I need, whether it be picking me up or asking them to be my guardian for a school event. Hell, even when we go out for family dinners, with my dad or not, they still barely talk to me. A month ago, me, my mom, and my brothers went out to celebrate my reward for being an outstanding student but even then, they barely talked to me. WE NEVER EVEN WENT ANYWHERE BUT JUST ATE DINNER AT SOME YOGURT PLACE AT THE MALL AND SIT AT SOME MUSICAL SHOW WHILE MY MOM WENT TO DO GROCERIES??? It was supposed to be a dinner celebrating MY achievement yet they barely even acknowledged my existence. I had to cry in the public bathroom and go out there pretending like everything was fine. I don't even know if my brothers even care about me, I know they do but sometimes it feels like they don't.

I don't think they even care to notice I'm barely taking care of myself. Hell, my mom literally called my brother telling him that I haven't been eating anything for the past few days and he didn't think to even message me.

Honestly, the only person in my family who genuinely cares about me and my well-being is my father. Though not here a lot, he calls me asking if I'm okay. When he's home, he makes sure I eat properly and sleep properly. He supports me and wishes the best for me and for my brothers. He's the only person in my family who I can be myself to and feel comfortable with. He's the main reason why I haven't kicked the bucket during covid. It would kill me even more to know how painful it would be for my father if I killed myself.

Other than my father, I don't know how to feel about my family anymore. I told myself that they do care, but I'm finding it hard to believe that anymore.

i can hardly believe that I’m sitting here at 30 years old, feeling like the biggest loser on the planet. for years, I was under the impression that pouring my heart and soul into my career would eventually lead to some degree of success and fulfillment; yet, yesterday I received the delightful news that I was laid off from a job I devoted a decade to. there I was, the quintessential “successful career woman,” or at least I thought I was — no husband, no kids, nothing but a fancy job title that seems to have vanished into thin air. 👍🏽 it’s almost laughable how I’ve spent my entire adult life chasing this elusive idea of success while neglecting the more important realities of life.

what now? I sit here sipping my cold coffee, staring out the window, contemplating if I’m supposed to stick to my meticulously planned life goals. the irony is not lost on me; I envisioned a prestigious title and a plush desk, perhaps even a partner by my side, but instead I have a cat who looks equally disillusioned when I try to explain my unemployment, as if it understands my shattered dreams. my colleagues are posting job updates and accomplishments on LinkedIn, while I scroll through my feed, salty as hell, feeling like I’m living some bad joke. am I destined to be that one woman everyone remembers fondly but wonders why she never settled down? 😔

it’s truly incredible how quickly everything unravels, isn’t it? even amidst this chaos, I find myself reflecting on recent conversations with friends who often remind me that life is not merely about titles and accolades; it’s about experiences and connections. sure, it’s easier said than done when your mind is a swirling mess of doubt, but I think back to my last vacation, chilling on the beach with friends, laughing at ridiculous comparisons of our lives. I have traveled the world, but each journey was mostly solo, a grim reminder that I have yet to share these moments with someone special. still, my heart tells me there’s a silver lining; perhaps this is the universe’s way of saying, “Girl, it’s time to reinvent yourself!”; when was the last time I took a real risk, anyway?

in short, I’m determined not to let this layoff define me or my future. I’ve got a list of ideas for side hustles and things I’ve always wanted to try but shoved aside for the glorified 9-to-5 lifestyle. I’ve been meaning to explore photography again, or even consider going back to school for something totally out of the box. the possibilities are endless, or at least they seem more appealing than wallowing in self-pity. so here’s my question for you, fellow venters: how do you bounce back when life hits you hard? is there really a light at the end of this tunnel, or am I just deluding myself with false hopes? I’d love to know; it’s just me and my cat, and she isn’t much for advice. 🐱

Everything this I say to this girl she trips. The reason why I am mad now is because she swears she knows me everything, this pisses me off so badd. So basically we’re teens and today I come home after 4 something. I get out at 3:15, the house is supposed to be clean, I come it’s not clean. When I tell her, she swear up and down she’s clean more then me, then my moms gets on my ass about the house. Tbh if they don’t care I don’t either. I may have anger issues but when we’re having an argument she makes it seem like I’m jealous of her of insecure, and I’m like girl what.. and I tried actually talking to her but she’s says dumb stuff that makes me wanna actually wanna slap her. Back on the house thingy, she stayed home the entire day, and did nothing butt rearrange the pillows.. yall😂. But yeah my mom gets on my ass about everything so.. am I wrong? Or being pushy? (Sorry if you’re confused, I’m writing this while mad rn)

Vent. My mom's going on a diet to loose weigh (and She's becoming slightly obsessive and weird about It, but whatever. It's her choice and i'm assuming She made her research) i'm also overweight, probably around her same weight (90/95 kg) and she wanted me to follow her on this diet ( to which i said no. Multiple times.) and to install a calorie tracking app. (She says she didn't but i'm not deaf and i ain't dumb. She often changes her words last minute when She realizes She upsets someone) I didn't really have a way to answer since She was fast about It and i installed It to supporto her. But honestly I want nothing to do with this. I like to cook and i want to eat what i'm in the Mood for. Plus i'm honestly not in a good headspace for this. There's a lot going on right now. I'm overwhelmed and burntout from school. Really tired. Struggling with sleep and Hygiene and workload and productivity. I'm working on building a nice space for myself, forming good habits, taking care of myself and creating a routine to study and have good grades. Plus. It's a fact. I like to eat. I like to cook. And sometimes i'm so low, exhausted and stressed out that my comfort foods are the only thing keeping me together. I don't want to be unsupportive but i'm so tired of hearing her talk about this. She's been talking about non Stop for weeks. And i'm not headspace to try It or even listen to her anymore. I'm so done. But now i feel so evil for snapping at her.

I'm a minor who is a trans man. A few months ago I came out to my parents as trans but my dad has acted like nothing happened and my Mom tells me it's a phase and asks me why I would decide this horrid future for myself even though I didn't choose it. I wish I could say she wasn't supporting but she is, she is very open about trans rights but when it comes to me I feel like my identity is just a funny joke to her or me "rebelling". I hate myself. She hates me, not her. I took away her little girl and I wish I hadn't. What do I do?

I'm a teen female (younger that 18) I hate it here. I'm so sick of being around people who act like they care about me but don't ever consider my feelings, my parents are so mentally draining, they say they understand how I feel but they genuinely don't. My mom said she had a "gay phase" too. It's not a phase, I've like women, and all genders since the I was young. They think its because I got exposed to things during covid and I hate it. Because it just shows how much they didn't pay attention to me as a kid (well, younger kid.) I literally had an imaginary girlfriend when I was like six and that was WAY BEFORE covid. I hate them. Mostly my dad, my mom is okay because she actually tries to hang out with me, not as much anymore but she asks me to go places with her and it shows she's atleast trying, unlike my dad who only does things for me if it benefits for him. My mom tried to tell me. "But he's picking you up from school everyday!" BARE MINIMUM. I don't want ungrateful, I know there's people who's dad's are worse but still, he doesn't even try. "He takes you to school sometimes!" Only because his physical therapy is on the way and I know he wouldn't do it if it wasn't.

Me and my mom were talking about what high-school I want to go to since it's almost the end of the year (I have 2 and a half weeks of school left) and we might go to this one school but my mom has to be at work 7:50am and we live 20-30 minutes away from her office so she can't drop me off at the bus stop, we'd have to leave way earlier than we already do. I said my dad could just drop me off and she went silent. (knowing damn well he's going to be upset about it.) She said "I'll have to talk to your dad about it." Uhm, why does he have a talk about it?

I don't know. Am I being unreasonable?

I’m a teenager, not older than 17.

My mom and my grandma both vent to me and they both don’t even face each other because of my mom and her boyfriend. It feels like there’s no privacy because my mom is always on face time with her boyfriend, HAS to show her face, HAS to have this camera on in her room even despite being face time, and HAS to show what she’s doing. (For more context her boyfriend put a camera in her room that’s “disguised” as a clock but my mom told me the truth of what it is.) She even uses the bathroom while he’s on face time, drives when he’s on face time, and even when she’s with me. He may not be there physically but he’s always on the phone or on FaceTime with her. It sucks because I feel like I can’t talk to my mom about personal things and I’m still just a kid growing up, learning how to cope with my own emotions. It makes me wish I had someone to go to, I don’t have my father because he’s not emotionally / mentally there for me. With my mom and grandma venting to me and my grandma talking about my mom behind her back to my homeschool teacher it makes me feel overwhelmed and stuck because I found out my grandma is kicking my mom out the house so my mom and her boyfriend can just live together because my my grandma said “your mother brings problems to the house” problems as in my moms boyfriend. It’s a whole situation that I’m not gonna get into. But I’m stressed out, my therapist appointment was canceled because my therapist is sick and I feel like I don’t have anyone to go to because my mom is always on the phone whenever I try to talk to her and I can’t go to my grandma because she’s gonna use my words against my mom or she’s gonna tell her other kids (she constantly gossips which makes me feel like there’s no privacy there either.) I just wish my family was normal and didn’t feel like it’s falling apart.

growing up, I always had this invisible wall between me and my mother. it felt like we were living in parallel universes, occasionally crossing paths but never truly connecting. whenever she tried to engage in conversations, I'd nod politely, but inside, I was rolling my eyes. like, can we skip the small talk? all that lecturing about grades, friends, and future plans just seemed so repetitive and unnecessary. I honestly don’t get where she’s coming from. it’s like she has this idea of who I should be, and I’m just not that guy. making stupid comments about my interests, questioning my music choices, or telling me what I should wear feels like she’s trying to control a life that’s not hers to dictate. sometimes, I wonder if she realizes how much her opinions push me away. does she think I’ll suddenly become the person she envisions if she keeps nagging? honestly, I think it just makes me resent her more. 😒

I know being a parent is tough, and she has her struggles, but does that mean I have to put up with her constant nagging? sometimes I just want to scream, "I don't like you!" I don’t mean that in a harsh way, just in a way that describes how utterly frustrated I am. it feels like she judges everything I do, which honestly makes me feel trapped in a box I never asked to be in. when I try to express my thoughts, she brushes them off as teenage nonsense, which drives me up the wall. I mean, can’t we have a real discussion without her immediately shooting down my feelings? I’m just trying to figure things out, but it feels like she can’t see that. does she even realize how alienating her comments are? it’s exhausting. 😩 so, is it too much to ask for a little understanding and respect in our relationship?

I can’t do this anymore. I don’t know why I’m like this. I just got out of another conversation with my parents and the moment they said “you go to church and you lie” I just got emotional and ran away. And marched into my room screaming. Unfortunately I have a problem with telling people the truth to my parents but I don’t do it out malicious I don’t because I’m scared.

I’m scared of being an adult

I’m scared of getting a license

And I’m scared of living alone

But why

Why can’t anyone understand me?

I feel like a monster because that’s all I am

A big giant no driving lying monster.

Sometimes I wonder what happened if I just never existed. Would Everything be different would everyone be happy.

Because I’m the problem cans I can’t even fucking save myself.

I feel right now that nothing about outside people holds any meaning for me, only my actions have meaning. I feel that what my father does no longer matters, nor the doctors who treated me, nor anything like that. I only seek to act meaningfully in accordance with my actions, not what others give them. I don't even care if they're in sync or not, beyond the agreements we make.

I feel like right now I don't care about anything or anyone, given that everyone's life is everyone's own life, and I can't do more than that. I'm not even interested in getting to know them in depth, at least those around me, since that's an activity they haven't delved into. I feel like I'm with people who have a vague interest in exploring themselves. Recently, my father was strangely reminiscing about one of my books, one of the things I like to read, saying he was going to give me this or that, spontaneously. I've always had the feeling that he was trying to keep me from reading those things.

For some time now, and I think this is why I'm like this, I feel like my father has wanted to attack my psychoanalytic readings. He's like my mother. This family doesn't want anything to be revealed under any circumstances. To the point that they resort to desperate measures. I hope that if I tell this to the psychiatrist, she'll at least let me finish the conversation instead of focusing on what is this and what is that, in depth; I can now understand a girl I knew who just wanted their conversations to flow; people interrupted her a lot. My family isn't interested in being discovered, neither on my father's side nor on my mother's side, under any circumstances. They want everything buried, and that seems irresponsible to me. To go so far as to attack Sigmund Freud? To attack Lacan as well? I think it's already reaching unhealthy extremes.

In fact, I feel that my father, being a doctor, is no longer seeing the limits of reality. Yesterday, she thanked me for reading her messages. She's reaching extreme levels of discernment, something I don't like; in fact, it horrifies me. My family is focused on re-educating me at all costs, on burden after burden after burden. They've become a group of people who are out of their depth. They simply think about our union without any measure. I see them as distrustful people; in fact, I've gone so far as to describe them as not acting normally. Their desire to be in control is excessive, as if something were about to break them permanently. And I understand because it was clear, and even I saw it that way, that I was going to stay with them permanently, serving them, and that didn't turn out to be the case.

I've been observing for some time now that I'm breaking their patterns of reality. That is, they no longer see me as how they used to see me, and they don't see that, and that's why they're always giving in, giving in, without realizing it, exhausted and without any reasoning. They're not well. It seems my behavior has gotten out of their hands, especially my father's. Since my change, the family isn't functioning as normally as usual, to the point where even family members are betraying each other. It's as if they can't process the weaknesses within their structure that I've been able to see. I insist, they haven't been well in their heads for a long time. In fact, they're not reasoning to the point where they judge how I speak, with the tone being what bothers them. In short, I've shattered the family structure, and they've made their lives hell, as if they no longer had a basis for life, simply giving rise to these behaviors.

All of them, I'm observing, now feel like they're without a family because there's no solid structure. It's always been this way, but now they're showing it. In fact, the simple fact that I've changed, from being the easiest to seduce to now the impossible, has completely changed their lifestyles. None of their manipulative strategies are working. It's as if they now feel the world has the opportunity to eat away at them, and they're taking advantage of it. They feel beyond their power and facing the worst of things: others supporting me because, of course, the outside now has power over them thanks to me, just as it always wanted, given that they always trampled on their surroundings.

I feel like everything has turned upside down for my family. They never thought I would rebel and succeed. I fell many times, and from those times they swore I wouldn't succeed, but they didn't count the constant attempts, and also that I wasn't looking for something immediate but gradual and this time effective, something not present in the other cases. None of their conditioning, nor can I believe it, has any effect on me now. They feel, I experience, that they have lost a family member even though they have them right in front of them, and they can't tolerate the feeling, and that their presence contradicts my own; that combination is too harsh for them, somewhat for which I wasn't prepared, and which is the cause of their instability.

Furthermore, the following happens: How could I emerge triumphant from the treatment as usual if there was no support whatsoever from others in terms of the groundwork for maintenance, for stability? In theory, for them, everything should have been in favor, finally, of producing the extreme fatigue necessary for suggestion, but it's not possible. This is something that simply doesn't add up for them; it's as if they also feel that something in them was born different from them, that they developed differently, as if they weren't a member of the family, having been the fruit of a procreation in which their blood participated. Everything is out of whack for them, which is gratifying because it implies that their tools of family inclusion, which worked for me, no longer work for others, and consequently their dominance, even if sporadic, is weak and of no inspiration to the members trapped there. The family is therefore dismantled on my part, and it's the way for others to dismantle it. It's as if their own actions of uniting the family actually lead to the opposite, to the same thing they said, even as a child, would happen with the acts of suggestion they performed, swearing that things were different on the outside, but that turned out not to be the case.

I feel like I don't like this. I feel like I'm being dragged along by doctors, precisely for the purpose of getting them to lead me in my health care, which my father hasn't been able to do for reasons even he doesn't know. I'm very confused. My mother's power is being taken away.

In a way, I'm handing my life over to these doctors out of desperation. My parents, having failed to look after her, are instilling in me a deep distrust. In fact, I feel fear toward my family members. I don't know if my father, who is also a doctor, has hidden incidents regarding his profession with us, the family members. I feel like this family is capable of hiding anything to maintain the union, just as they do with my father. I hate that I can't express this with complete confidence elsewhere; my fear of censure is always there.

In fact, the last few times I saw him, my father was confusing treating me professionally with his desire to dominate me. In fact, I'm saying that he was more interested in possession than treating me as a doctor. He denied things. Indeed, my father had gone crazy. However, I feel these doctors are on the same path, that of being possessive rather than professional. In fact, I'm verifying it.

I'm currently in a state of urgency with these doctors to get them to stop being professional, to go further with me, to the point of treating me like a mother and a father. I don't know whether to obey the doctors because doing so would be betraying my father, and obeying my father would be betraying them. I find myself at a terrible crossroads. I wish things were simpler.

Why did my father throw me in with this group of doctors? The price is that there are many people out there seeking domination, by any means, and these doctors turned out to be one of them. In this sense, he exposed me to this happening. It was as if he was no longer interested in having me under his care, but instead exposed me to someone else, vowing to preserve me no matter what. During treatment, my father was so nervous, so indecisive, so sentimental that he didn't give me the chance to trust him with my life.

I feel that perhaps these doctors may be different, but the fact that they are taking positions in my life, regarding my health, is a very serious issue for me. This is playing with my health arbitrarily, just like he did with my father. There's no difference. They also don't take into account whether I want it or not. They exploit my desperation just the same. I keep insisting: I'm surprised by how many people are out there with a desire for power. Besides, it's even worse with the doctors because I can't repeat the attitudes I had, and I don't know what they're capable of, knowing their influence.

I don't know how my father could have exposed me to such beings. What a rootless behavior. It's as if he doesn't want to be with me; he's exposing me to someone taking me away just like that, and I don't like it. I wanted to stay with him, but at the same time, I feel like he made no effort to stay with me. He left me exposed to these kinds of people. Besides, how could he not be more attentive, or more attentive this time than with his friends? We're with people from the street, strangers; it was only natural that he would be attentive with these doctors. Why did he neglect me like this? I feel abandoned in my usual way, free from anything happening to me, without visualizing methods, ways of dealing with me, or anything like that. In other words, he also allowed my desire to leave his life to be satisfied.

I feel like this time my father didn't fight for me at all. In fact, he didn't even take an interest in how the doctors handled things with me. He wasn't able to go into details; he simply assumed things were done well without raising any questions. I feel like this means my father hasn't stopped loving me because he's supposed to take care of that, the medical side of things. Also, assuming things about the doctors when I told him not to interfere, I mean, my dad did everything possible to make this situation happen, to make these doctors take control of my life, even though I allowed it. He did everything possible, everything that bothered me and he knew it, to make me leave. It's as if nothing in our history had indicated anything to him, as if he had no capacity for reflection regarding the way I acted. It's as if he didn't want me with him.

It's like, ever since the treatment, I feel like he doesn't want me with him anymore, as if he wants to kick me out of being with him, and he doesn't realize it. My sister had the same feeling. It's gotten to the point where I don't recognize it. Yesterday she told me about a subject I liked, and he still hasn't sent me any materials. I feel completely abandoned by my father. In fact, I feel like he could have dealt with the treatment completely, calmly, without any problem, but he just put it aside. It's already happened I've done this several times. I notice that he's just thinking, and it's something that doesn't just happen with me. When something bothers him in his routine, he simply tries to get it out of his system, no matter who it is. Indeed, he's an extremely indolent person. Why does my father have to be like this?

I feel like my father, for a long time now, hasn't known what to do with his life. He's left it behind and simply prefers to focus on his job, which is where he does things well because all he does otherwise, given his lack of empathy, is destroy things. My father tries to get back on track, but it's always useless; he always achieves the opposite. I feel like he's never going to leave that comfort zone in any way; in fact, he never did since he became a father. None of us, let's be clear, care about his feelings, let alone support him in anything. He's carrying a very heavy burden, although that's also because he doesn't want anyone to interfere. Indeed, my dad will never get out of that, and hoping for change is unnecessarily giving me hope.

This same reasoning applies to my mother. That is to say, she will never leave, like my father, her job, her family, the prison walls. She's only interested, and since I was a child, it's always been that way: calm. This is the ultimate goal for both of us, and nothing more than that goal, using the tools that belong only to them and nothing more than theirs. Indeed, I recognize that I do this; however, I deny that it's my reality, given that when I leave my comfort zone, I seek an effective way out so that I can be supported by my routine. Unfortunately, this isn't the case with my sister, given that it's exactly the same with my parents, with the only difference being that she seeks to be Machiavellian, while I don't. My path through life is through good deeds without expecting anything in return, which in turn opens doors for me, although that's not why I do it. This is why my parents attacked me as a child, and I felt my sister was loyal to me in times of conflict. However, their preference for success was me, not my sister, since she was rejected because she was their faithful reflection.

I somehow feel that this was latent since I was a child, of chasing doctors, of going to another caregiver. It was always latent because I didn't have the tools for life, and now it's not much different. I don't have a life made up of friends; I am absolutely dependent on others, practically on others, since nothing is mine, except for some transportation issues, note-taking supplies, and electronic equipment, and I buy junk food since my father provides me with food. In fact, I feel at home, with the only difference being that I am alone and face life's challenges. However, this was already the case since I was a child, and I am also very careful not to get into trouble.

What’s the point of doing it. Everytime I make one simple mistake it leads up to another one hour lecture. And I’m done I’m done living with my parents and I’m done being called lazy. And I’m done with being said to grow up every single time despite the fact that I’m trying to do that. But apparently it’s not enough. Apparently you can’t like Thomas the fricken tank engine despite there being other people at my age who like it as well. I can’t even breakdown anymore because I won’t get a hug or a I’ll help you all I get is a “you’re too old for this” I don’t even have anyone else to vent to other than my grandma. I just wanna scream I just wanna break something. I just don’t know what to do man

I feel I can't just leave my father like this. He's my doctor, and he doesn't deserve what he's going through, what I'm doing to him, leaving him, being at the mercy of such a huge mess because of me, and having to tolerate it. It's incredible how others want to take my parents' place at all costs. In fact, they don't know how to maintain it either, resorting to confusion worthy of the most serious and justified accusations.

In fact, I feel I can't allow my father to cease being my doctor because neither he nor anyone else has seen what caused my somatization. In fact, no one has been able to pinpoint the cause except for the therapist, who has been the most qualified professional. He, along with the other doctors, have applied desperate measures to resolve the situation, completely ignoring the psychological aspect. This has resulted in a sad, unsettled fishing ground, where everyone has tried to gain ground. In fact, I fear the doctors fueled this, and so did my father, an attitude that is immature from every point of view on both sides.

I don't feel either of them acted well. In fact, I'm open about going with one of them; I would definitely go with my father. If I go with another, the issue would be more complex, in principle, because there isn't the same structured trust that has existed for many years. On top of that, another person won't be willing to listen and sacrifice as my father does. In fact, the ground where everyone has their own life is at the mercy of being exposed. Indeed, the other professionals' fight for me is touching, but if I stay with them, it's detrimental to me in the long run.

The attempt to seize power by any means is impressive, even in the field of medicine. These professionals, including my father, should be ashamed. My body can't be a seizure of power, nor should any patient's. Truly, it's disappointing. Frankly, I don't want to speak to any of these professionals again. They don't measure the impact of their actions. In fact, they should have been even more cautious than my father if they wanted to win me over. I find them all worthy of distrust.

With my father, at least there are some comforts already established, even though the bond is the same as I would have with these professionals. That's why I see myself with this one. But, if I'm honest, I wish I wasn't with either of them because neither of them is committed to being in complete harmony with me. It makes me wonder: When will a mature person come into my life? In this case, I can't take care of myself as a doctor; in fact, I don't even like that question. That's why I say there must be someone who can at least adequately assist me in this. I don't know if I'm asking for some kind of guardian angel or something like that.

Why the hell should I depend on a third party? Why me? Why can't I depend on myself? Frankly, I don't understand. I wish things were different. I wish it all depended on emotions, but that would be like living in a daze and closing the door to that person if they came along. Why can't I trust any professional to help me?

In fact, I have to confess, I feel like the psychiatrist isn't helping me. She's not doing anything. I feel like therapy is just serving as a show for the professional. I hate that I'm serving that purpose. I would like a serious professional to treat me. When will that professional arrive, for God's sake? With which professional will I ever feel truly safe?

With which professional will I ever feel truly welcomed? With which professional will I feel they are leading me in the right direction? I feel in some way that I'm searching for my father in some professional, for someone outside who resembles him, given that I no longer seek him. However, that doesn't mean I've stopped searching for his personality in another person, just as it happens with my mother, and I hadn't realized it.

I have to say it: Where will I find the model of father I want? Where will I find the model of mother I'm looking for? Does it exist? Could it be that I'm there somewhere? I have to say it: Where will I find a substitute family model for mine? Whatever it is I want? Where will I be able to live in that family I so wanted? It was always my dream to live those years that I couldn't live and that I feel I deserve to live, that I feel that life owes me no matter what, because I feel that under no circumstances was it fair to have had a family so uprooted to the point of questioning whether there really was a family and not some kind of apartment with people who were living there by pure coincidence and by the grace of fate, which is how I felt at home, with no chance for anyone to leave.

Where is that house I love so much? Where is that home I long for so much? Where will there be that place where I feel I can live my childhood again? With whom will this be possible? With whom? Who will be able to make me fulfill that dream? Will the answer exist? Will it be worth it? Is it something I could regret? Damn.

I'm tired of searching outside for that childhood I couldn't experience with others around me. Although I confess, I feel I've achieved it, and that's precisely what my submission to my father was, the debt he considered he owed me, and I can understand why he pays it today, precisely for bringing me life and for having me live all these things when the conditions weren't favorable under any circumstances because, in the beginning, there wasn't anyone stable enough to help him with his, and that was exactly what he needed. I understand the financial support, the unchecked freedom, and the heightened restraint of my feelings; These were precisely the three missing elements he always wanted to give me, but for fear of the consequences of his environment, he never succeeded. These were devastating consequences that attacked him as the family's financial supporter. These extremes weren't something he should take into account.

I have to say it. After this text, I feel like I now understand my life as it is.

I feel a lot of affection toward one of the doctors who treated me. In fact, I feel a sense of care that neither my father nor my mother had ever given me. I feel affectionate, loving, and for the first time, I don't feel like speaking ill of parental figures as I always have, and that makes me happy. I confess that I never liked speaking ill of my parents because I felt it was denigrating my past, my person, that part of me that was made up of them, but I couldn't help it.

In fact, I confess, I'm sorry to be writing about them like this because I feel it's distancing me from them, and I don't want to do that. I don't want to distance myself from other parental figures again; I'm not interested in doing that. I feel like I want to be with them, not cause them any inconvenience, no fights, just follow them blindly. Yes, that's exactly it.

I feel like I've put all my critical tools to work distancing myself from my parents, which was my greatest wish. I didn't want that to happen again. In fact, that's why I feel like these doctors are like paternal figures, and I feel like they've adapted me in some way. It fulfills me in part because I feel like they're replacing my parents, but I can't help it.

How can I not give them credit for being paternal figures if they've earned it? Even with their example. They're inclusive of me. I even feel like I'm part of the family, where I'm taken into account, where I'm a priority, where I'm taken seriously and with care. I feel like this made me feel completely cut off from the family. My parents were always willing to make me feel marginalized, but these doctors, on the other hand, make me feel like I'm part of something, that there's a system that loves me, that appreciates me, that wants me alive. With my parents, I felt like that was impossible because I was born among them, which didn't seem fair at all.

I never felt like part of the family. They never allowed me to. No matter how hard I tried to get inside, they kept me defensive about my parents. I simply had to keep quiet because it was them, as if they were the perpetrators of a massacre to which I was condemned without any salvation. Even with my family, they closed the door on me and left me in a dead end. I can't ask the doctors to play my parents, however, I see an interest in them in making me their son, given that, for some reason, I see that they have lacked that possibility, mainly due to their spirit of justice, commitment, and friendliness, which precisely constitutes a burden that is very difficult to compensate.

In fact, with another of the doctors, I feel a relationship, also familiar, in terms of a courtship, but it goes beyond that; it's even familial. The group of doctors who treated me feel like a kind of family that somehow adapted me, that opened their doors to me. I don't understand why. It's as if, despite the treatment having been completed, they had adapted me given the conditions I expressed regarding my parents, as if they weren't acting as caregivers, as if their job served as an excuse to fulfill that position from the perspective they can offer. Their pain over my situation, even though they didn't express it, was harsh, and this time, unlike what they could do with their friends or with someone other than the patient, they couldn't distance themselves from it, given that their duty was to care for me, and it remains that way. It's as if the grieving process they had to endure regarding me in order to transition to other patients had never ended.

It's strange. So, I have a new family, but the question is: How is this? Why did it happen to me? Why did I have to transition to a new family? This happened without anyone's permission; no one wanted this to happen. We're all giving in to our impulses just like that. We all turned our backs on the issue because there was no excuse to escape, but this time it's not possible. How could this have happened to me? Isn't it easier to walk around without family? I don't even see these doctors; they're distant. I vaguely know them, because of life's circumstances, on the same level of appreciation with which I view my parents. Why is it that I value them as family? I feel that the same distance I maintain with my family, I maintain with them. In fact, this doctor, who I didn't specify as my father but rather as my sister, was so distant, uncommunicative, she was my sister. What surprises me is that I experience this simple pattern of interaction as a substitute and satisfying family. I mean, I can't believe my family is so easy to replace. In fact, beyond them, I don't know anything, a question I experience with my blood family itself.

Is it that in my family, we are so empty? The doctors have given me vague interaction. Exactly what I've felt with my parents regarding working together. Is there so little in my family that unites us? The family relationship between us has been practical Especially that of us being in a work environment where my sister and I are the clients. How could this union have happened just like that? I can't believe my family is so simple and vague. I can't believe it. I can't believe I can replace it so easily. In fact, I feel more confident with these vague details.

I can't believe what I'm experiencing. And just like that, this emerged out of nowhere, just like that. With barely any planning. Furthermore, with selected personnel, I'm talking about doctors, for their work skills. What the heck was my family back then? I swore we were much more complex. Not one you could easily get anywhere. It makes me feel like my family, what we had between us, was just anything. Frankly, I can't believe it.

I feel like there was really nothing between my family and me. Not even with my sister and my parents, just a sad pity that camouflaged it. I never thought I'd discover this. Furthermore, the same frequency with which I see my parents is the same frequency with which I see the doctors I consider my parents. In fact, I trust the female one more, and she's the one who is open and concrete, a bit of a leader, just like my mother, and the male one is rude, drastic, but with a certain measure of restraint, and also authoritarian at times. I can't believe, I insist, that the same core group has formed as when I was at home, which for me was unstable and unstable, just as I experienced at the place where these doctors treated me. Furthermore, with the doctor I feel like my sister, equally distant, eccentric, lonely, and forced to do what she was doing to survive. I can't believe, I insist, that I've encountered the same core group of people.

What is my family then? A group of random people? What the heck did we have at home? Parents who propped up the situation as best they could, trying to get by without any success beyond support, and a sister who did whatever it took to look good with them and everyone else, while I was simply at the mercy of observation and finger-pointing. I insist, I can't believe the same modus operandi developed that existed at home; having, in other words, an emotional and rebellious inclination between my sister and me toward the world. I insist: What the hell did we have at home? Why did we have this at home? How could we have had such a simple, vague, and dysfunctional way of living together? Dysfunctional given that there was no review of the family's destiny despite the elements against it. What did we have at home? Simply, everyone pulling for themselves. The doctor I consider a father was distant from the case and didn't express it, like my mother. What did we have at home? It was everyone for themselves, after all, a sad attempt for each of us to survive. How could we have been so simple-minded? In this family, as a nucleus, there was no depth whatsoever. My parents, besides wanting to look good to those in authority, as always, and being clever at making one look bad, and acting as an inclusion.