The original post: /r/amitheasshole by /u/voidstaring23 on 2024-04-29 21:48:29.
I (35F) have had a rocky relationship with my parents. I’ve recently been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and have had a long history of trauma. My parents and I have a good relationship now, but when I was growing up, it was different.
I was the eldest, which meant I had to grow up earlier than my younger siblings, take care of them, be a beacon of excellence academically and spend a lot of my childhood being compared to smarter kids my age.
My mother in particular was quite abusive - physically, verbally, emotionally. Which, unfortunately, is quite common in my part of the world, though the conversation around parental toxicity has begun.
I was fatshamed by her (still am, sometimes), she hit me a lot, and I learned much later in life that it’s not normal to have a parent verbally abuse you and call you horrid names.
I grew up disliking my mom and it got worse when I didn’t follow through with the career she chose for me. She wanted me to be a physician and I wanted to a teacher. I eventually grew a backbone and pursued my career and it’s honestly been the best decision of my life. It’s been incredibly rewarding and it’s one of the few things in life that gives me purpose.
Anyway, things were quite bad when I made that decision. As a result, my mom and I would argue a lot and when she got physical, I left and stayed with a friend for a bit. Eventually as I started working, she got used to it.
Most of my childhood memories with her are sad. And I’ve never really gotten an apology for it. She either thinks it’s justified or shuts down the conversation. Whatever. Five years of therapy helped and I no longer need that validation. She’s also toned down quite a bit and we’re both quite amicable now.
My problem is - with my recent diagnosis, I’m a bit angry. I feel like a lot of childhood trauma messed with my brain and had a role to play. And when I have an episode, it’s very implosion and self-contained. I isolate and let everything out, which also sucks because that’s something I got used to doing as a kid and grew up wishing my adulthood would be different. It’s much better, but this stings.
I’ve also had a history of not bring the kindest to myself physically, with instances starting as early as the age of 8, well into adulthood.
I know it’s not wrong for me to feel angry, but then I think about how she was doing the best she can, whilst combating multiple traumatic events and discrimination (she’s a minority here). She hasn’t had it easy either. I don’t know. I usually just end up feeling shitty about it all.