I Think I'm Giving People the Wrong Idea · 3:06pm Oct 13th, 2020
Blog Number 107: Correcting Perspective Edition
After taking some time to cool off from yesterday (and to sleep: I'm in the UK's timezone, after all, not any of the US's), I want to correct what I've said. I feel yesterday's blog post was unbalanced and inaccurate, and as a self-confessed pedant, I can't let that slide.
Don't get me wrong: what I was feeling when I wrote the blog yesterday was real, and I didn't set out to lie, only to confess. But I dislike inaccuracy and partisanship, and when it gets to the point some people are suggesting I'm being emotionally abused, based on what I've said, I think I'm giving an extremely skewed impression.
For starters, when I say "my parents" I mostly mean "my dad". Nearly all of this is his doing; my mom is a lot more tolerant of my behaviour, and has been more supportive of me when I've been unhappy. If my dad acted like my mom does more often (i.e. being more tolerant and supportive), I don't think there'd be this issue.
To me, her biggest failing is that, on those rare occasions over the years when I've aired my frustrations and anger at my dad to her, without him around, she quickly defends him and points to the good he does for e.g. my grandparents. It makes me feel stifled. But I don't want to make it out as if they were equally to blame.
For another thing, this has been an issue ever since I failed at university. Something that's stuck with me from years ago (I failed university 2010-2011, a whole year before I encountered My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic), was when in the middle of a particularly fraught argument (it would have been fraught anyway: I can't stand arguing), my parents said I was "intelligent" and a "hard worker" and frankly said they couldn't understand why I'd been reduced to a modest job and spending a lot of time in my room "doing nothing much".
To be honest, I don't blame them. I still don't understand why I failed. They suggested the university didn't provide much support for me, but I don't see that they needed to (I did take part in some self-help sessions outside of seminars and lectures, and there were clubs and things I took part in, including a writing one).
I did wonder if it was a social thing - I've never felt comfortable working in groups as I do working on my own - but I've never had a social circle or friends anyway. If anything, the bullying I used to receive stopped as soon as we entered our GCSE years, simply because we were separated by ability then (and it was mostly the less achievement-interested kids who gave me trouble), so this shouldn't be any different.
The only factor that stuck out to me was that all the enthusiasm I had interacting in seminars and attending lectures dried up as soon as I was outside, and I have no idea what to make of that. Lack of participation? I've had difficulties with homework before, but never to that scale.
I know it sounds like a very conditional sort of affection: love me when I was achieving, tolerate me when I don't. But consider this:
When I used to misbehave in secondary school (I never used to in primary school, but when I moved to the next level of school, I didn't take to my classmates very well, and there were... popularity problems, let's say), to the point that I deliberately smashed a fire alarm, cut someone's coat with scissors, and then cut someone's hand with a knife we were using in textiles class, my parents were never exactly impressed, to say the least. To say the most, they were furious. Even I'm still horrified by what I did, even now.
Oh, I could make up excuses and say I was reacting badly to the new environment (I spent my first year locked out of my computer login because I was dumb enough to trust a "friend" with my password - they subsequently told others and changed it for a joke, and I was basically useless in IT classes for the longest time), but it seems more straightforward to say I was being either stupid or malicious, and why would my parents want that?
Neither would they want me to fail at university. It's just baffling. And if it's baffling to me, what are my parents supposed to make of it? Here was the star student suddenly losing the will to do simple assignments, and then going from a hitherto successful journey through higher education to a modest job with no major prospects. And that star student can't explain why it happened. Put like that, why wouldn't they be frustrated too?
For a third thing, my parents do all the work around the house. Cleaning, ironing, refurbishing at random, that sort of thing. To be fair, I have offered to help, and they (mainly my mom) don't have a problem with the current arrangement. Except when, suddenly, they do.
I don't contribute much to the house. True, since my dad retired, I've been one of the main earners, but the vast majority of my expenditure has been on groceries for myself, and my parents still buy some of that for me. Domestic chores for me amount to cleaning up after myself once I've cooked my own meals (we rarely have meals at the same time now), sweeping the kitchen floor if it looks too dirty, and occasionally helping with the heavy lifting if dad can't handle something on his own.
My mom still gives me allowance, for pity's sake. I don't even need it.
I'm lazy. I'm pampered.
Surprisingly, I don't actually mind doing the cleaning jobs on the few occasions I tackle them myself. When I'm on my own, for instance, operating the dishwasher and sweeping up every now and again actually feels like a nice little task to spice up the day. But I've never felt the urge to volunteer for it, so when my parents (i.e. my dad) randomly raises his voice at me because I do so little, if anything it makes me less motivated to do it. I feel like I've been waiting for orders, told to step down, and then suddenly bawled out for not doing it.
I think this is a miscommunication issue. This one at least seems simple enough to remedy, now I've aired my frustrations over it.
For a fourth thing, I feel I was exaggerating how one-sided their views were last time. Oh, the whole "foreigners as a synonym for criminals" thing is true, and given the rest, it's not hard to spot a trend in their thinking. But this is just why, at home, I have a hard time enjoying their company in the same room. It's not like they go around in public being aggressive at "other" people to their faces. For example, my cousin has an Indian chap for a partner, and I've never seen my parents be anything but pleasant and friendly to him whenever they meet.
Yes, I know this is "Some of my best friends are black..." territory, but I think it's worth pointing out that it's not as extreme as, say, it could be in parts of the US, where I gather being outspoken about it is more the norm, and it's easy to attribute to British behaviour something more readily associated with American behaviour (in some parts of America, I should say). It's just mostly unimaginative "middle class Britain" thinking.
Not that I'm defending it as a thing in itself. I said I can't stand to be in the same room as them, at times like this, and hardly just because it's so boring to hear them bring it up every other petty day.
For a fifth thing, the "insanely shallow" comment in my previous blog post wasn't very well explained, I think. It's not that they talk about e.g. why they don't like my growing my hair so long, or why I eat too much sugary food. Honestly, especially when it comes to the food and the exercise, I already agree with them.
It's that this is almost all they talk about.
For the most part, I keep my distance, and this is one reason why. They complain I spend too much time in my room, but when I do come out to spend more time with them, this is about as much reward as I get. I can't stand it. We're supposed to be blood relatives. How is it that this is the most substantial thing we can discuss?
And that feeds into the problems I have talking with them about, say, my writing. For example, I love sci-fi. One of my earliest memories was of listening to a tape of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in the car on some holiday around England (Weston-Super-Mare, I think). I loved the show. My dad basically introduced me to what would prove to be one of my favourite franchises - arguably one of my favourite genres - because he liked it too. When I asked a few years back if my parents would mind if I wrote about sci-fi - this was a sort of lead-up to talking about other things - they said it was all right with them.
But we can't really talk about it.
I could happily dissect and revisit H2G2 and sci-fi tropes and high-falutin concepts till the cows come home. Sci-fi and sci-fi concepts are some of my favourites. But whereas it's a driving passion for me, I get the impression more and more that it was some marginal fad to them. It gets embarrassing quickly if I even outline a synopsis of a sci-fi premise to them. I can't get enough of science and - to a lesser extent - philosophy and psychology.
By this point, it feels like we're learning two different languages and they're diverging as the years go by. I even considered "humanizing" some of my pony stories in case I could discuss them more openly with my parents, and it's still clear we'd be at an impasse.
This isn't a moral wrong on their part! This is just a matter of unlucky taste.
It works both ways: I've occasionally asked questions about whatever sport is on TV, and my dad gets delighted talking about that and telling me about sporting legends and past victories and famous personalities and so on. Only it doesn't take long before I can't even try to take an interest in the details he's gushing over. It doesn't click for me the same way it does for him. It just ends up feeling like I'm faking it.
So we both end up lapsing into embarrassed silence, awkward for both of us, and we can't talk about it after that. We're just too different.
For a sixth and extremely important thing: when I said they intrude on my privacy, I don't mean, like, constantly. Not daily, or weekly. In fact, they've been rather good about that the last few months: yesterday was just as much a shock because they've been rather good about it.
I should explain better, so here goes. My bedroom is actually a converted attic. It doesn't have a door. The most semblance of privacy I get is that the stairs leading up to it don't show my room immediately, so someone would have to come up to see anything. Unfortunately, it's easy to hear what I'm doing from the bottom, so if I'm watching something I don't want them to pick up on, I either use headphones or turn the volume down. Nothing major: it's just a minor discomfort when I'm trying to relax.
The room wasn't always mine. Originally, my brother lived there. Unlike me, he's always gotten on well with my parents - he's more gregarious, he's sporty (good news for my dad, who used to coach him), he's travelled the world, he's taken on a lot of jobs, he's moved out, he's looking to start a business, and he keeps in regular contact. He's basically what I'm not.
But when my brother moved out, I got the attic. At first, it seemed like an upgrade. It was bigger, it was more delightfully quirky than my simple square bedroom formerly, and since we had windows installed, I have a lovely view of the trees outside. It's still a very nice room.
And yes, I could tidy it up more often, and clean it too, if I felt motivated enough to do so. Like I said, it's not a problem for me personally, as I can adapt, but it's one of the few places I can call my own. We also had stuff stored in the attic, so if my parents needed anything, I could oblige and fetch it for them.
Except when they don't.
Every now and again, they come up to my room instead of asking. I'm probably overreacting, but I always feel horrified when I discovered they've done so. It's not just the invasion of privacy or the fact that they don't ask first. It's that the result all the time is the same: Instant criticism. Nagging. Raised voices, like yesterday's.
As for the threat to bin my property: this isn't exactly the first time. But to my knowledge, I've never actually known them to do that (admittedly because the threat usually works). They've thrown out clothes they disapproved of, yes, but I've got plenty of those, and either I or they usually get me new ones soon enough, often to my liking.
Books and DVDs are a different matter. I treasure them. Part of the shock of yesterday was that I hadn't A) had my dad come into my room without my permission for a while, and B) haven't so suddenly been hit with the threat.
Overall... look, there are multiple issues I'm tangling up here.
One of them is the understandable but still slightly regrettable fact that we don't seem to have much in common. I have found some overlap before now, but it's never over things we're both equally passionate about. I've always had difficulties socializing; way back in primary school, I had to be taken aside for language therapy because I just wasn't developing the same way the other kids were. I had to go home to have my lunches: it took me years just to feel comfortable having lunch at school, and I always sat alone. I don't know what you imagine me to be when I can spin and weave words online like this, but frankly even I think I'm as socially dull as a brick wall. I've always been a problem child.
Another is the genuinely problematic stuff: my dad loses his temper every month or so and I spend most of my time trying not to do anything I'll regret while he's almost yelling tirades at me about how bad I am, because it hurts and I want it to stop ASAP.
More low-key than that, both of my parents can't think of anything more meaningful to discuss than my own failings, so it's a big turn-off even when I try to just hang out in the same room as them, to say nothing of getting more involved. Our relationship is rarely at its best, and the surest way for us to get along for days at a time is for us to steer clear of each other and be mutually tolerant and polite.
It's not the nightmare-fest I made it out to be yesterday; at its worst, it's a sudden distress I try to endure. There's certainly no abuse going on. It's not that dramatic.
Besides, they do good things too. Like I said yesterday, they look after my grandparents. They work hard and do most of the chores. They've always gotten along with my brother and helped him when he's in trouble. My mom's side of the family in particular is very close. Even if they don't always understand me, they at least seem happy enough just having me be there and checking I'm doing OK at work and so on.
And lastly, I think if I'm going to confess like this, I need to be brutally honest with myself, the better I don't fall into a self-serving trap and try to use pity and manipulation as tactics.
When all's said and done, I'm guilty. Probably more guilty than I dare to admit.
There's no dressing it up: I am a burden. I'm lazy, I'm pompous, I'm a wannabe-intellectual who gathers lots of books in a vain hope that I'll read them more often than I do, to better myself. I've kept saying I'd like to do things, only I'm not "motivated" enough to start. What else is that but a coded admission I'm a lazy, good-for-nothing parasite? All I do is eat and daydream and watch TV and occasionally do some trifling little job if I've been nagged at hard enough. All I give back are messes and silences and empty promises and sweet-sounding words.
Oh, I'll be a novelist, I say. Oh, I'll make more money doing something I love and then all my problems will be over! What a delusional lie that is. What a convenient way to live a hedonistic lifestyle, pretending all this booking and gaming and film-watching is secretly a clever way to fuel a dream that's not happening. Who am I kidding anymore?
I love writing, I really do, except when I suddenly don't. Isn't it obvious to the meanest intelligence what's going on? I mean, I know the good advice. I know what I should be doing. Academically, I welcome it. But when my parents suggested a year ago I start using credit cards to build up a credit score that'd make it easier to get a mortgage, I agreed and took it seriously and now, one year later, I still haven't done it.
A couple of months ago, my parents (on the few occasions we shared a meal together) suddenly started quizzing me about all the stuff I'd have to do if I owned the house. The gardening, the bills to pay, the problems I'd have if I didn't do all this. That was a cornered animal moment, all right. I was terrified! Because I knew I'd never manage it, the way I was acting, the way I've been acting for years. I'm a lot dumber than I pretend to be, and even I can tell my laziness is going to ruin me.
Let's not beat about the bush: a large part of the problem is me. Of course my parents are frustrated. I'm good reason to be frustrated. Even I can see it.
I know it's simpler to clean my room and keep in my dad's good graces, but a large part of me resists out of spite, part of me dulls the sense of urgency, and so long as that's the case, I've got no one to blame but myself. If I spun some yarn yesterday about what ogres my parents are, then I can only correct that now by admitting I'm nothing to boast about myself. If I'm trying to earn sympathy I don't deserve, then I'm not putting up with my own bullshit any longer, and neither should you.
Let me finish by saying I stand by a lot of what I said yesterday. It really is a pleasure to be able to talk about writing here, something I'm very passionate about, and I regret my dumb instinct was to be cagey and hesitant about it for so long. If nothing else, I keep a lot close to my chest out of sheer reflex. You don't know what it's taken just to get me to this stage.
Why am I telling you all this? Because I had an urgent emotional outburst yesterday, after so long, and if I didn't find someone I could trust, come what may, I don't know what I would have done. And because a lot of things were said and implied during that outburst that trouble me: I'm suspicious of self-serving biases and black-and-white thinking in general, to say nothing of how I feel about the idea of not holding myself to my own standard. If I've got nothing else, I'll have that.
I don't ask you to do anything. This is going to be embarrassing for a lot of people, however necessary I think it is after what I did yesterday, and it's self-incriminating to boot.
I also don't want to feel this is yet another pity ploy, as if I'd set all this up to get more views and less criticism in the future. What a damning proof that I need such a boost in the first place! Frankly, if that's the case, then don't fall for it. I hope the attempt crashes and burns. If I continue to publish what I write, then I will want it to be judged fairly and independently.
If nothing else, I regret how I handled yesterday's blog post and I wanted to balance it here.
Once I send this, whatever happens next is out of my hands. A lot of people are going to see what I did and lose a lot of sympathy for me. I won't blame them if they do.
But to be honest with you, I can't keep putting up with all this forever. I don't like feeling bad, least of all about myself. Sooner or later, I'll want to talk about more engaging, more cheerful, and less personal or painful topics. At least when I do, you'll have a clear idea of what kind of person you're really dealing with.
I can't think of anything else to add. I've never talked about myself so much before. I wish this hadn't happened, but I also wish I could just hit the reset button on my life and end up on a better path. I really do.
Until then, I've nothing else to say. What's done is done.
Impossible Numbers out.
Okay, I have to ask this: Have you ever been evaluated for a Learning or Developmental Disorder? ASD, ADD/ADHD, etc.? Because that is what this is sounding an awful lot like. The acting out, the hyperfocus, doing really well at something but rapidly losing interest, having difficulty with basic life skills, having difficulty interacting with others, preferring to work solo, all this sounds way too damned familiar.
I'm ASD myself, and have a number of friends and acquaintances who are ASD or ADD/ADHD, Dyslexic, etc.; and this sounds a whole hell of a lot like myself and them (more them, I'm guessing some flavour of ADD/ADHD, but I'm hardly a professional here). if you have been tested in the past, I'd day get tested again, because misdiagnosis/failed diagnosis are very common with these sorts of disorders.
Seriously, this sounds way too much like one of those. Especially since said disorders are very, very commonly dismissed as "discipline problems" instead of the neurological dysfunctions that they are. Even by those who have said disorders; given how badly stigmatized they are on both sides of the pond. It's a form of cultural programming we're subjected to from an early age. That was a large part of my problem as a child; I was an undiagnosed ASD (this was not nearly as well-understood and well-addressed back in the '70s and '80s as it is now), and was treated by my parents as a "discipline problem" rather than someone with a real developmental disorder. My brother was diagnosed dyslexic by an actual medical professional, and my parents still denied that his learning disorder was anything other than a "discipline problem". There's still too much cultural denialism and denigration of any sort of mental development or health issues.
It's also important to keep in mind that these are also commonly co-morbid with depression and anxiety disorders; which can exacerbate the problem and cause even more difficulty coping. And your parents are clearly not being particularly helpful in this regard. The sort of self-blame and self-denigration I see in your post is absolutely characteristic of people with these disorders who grew up without adequate diagnosis and treatment, and internalized the cultural prejudices against them.
Nope, going to have to side with your parents on this one. It definitely sounded like you could have used more support, especially if I'm right about the LDD. It's possible the support was available and you were just unaware of how to access it; but -- at least in the US -- large institutes of learning rarely have sufficient support for students who are struggling. Can't imagine it's hugely better in the UK given what I've heard from other friends and acquaintances.
5377030
No, I've never been diagnosed for anything like that. I mean, my parents and I have long been aware of my lack of social instinct, so to speak, but we've both put it down to individual personality, not an official disorder.
The thought has occurred to me, because I like to research psychology from time to time, and there are parallels and overlapping areas. Especially the idea I might have an anxiety disorder, given it doesn't take much to make me nervous. Still, it seems just as plausible I'm a normal introvert who's a bit neurotic, if we're looking at this from a psychological angle. I don't know if it's anything technically medical.
Trouble is, I've only ever read about such things: I've never actually met anyone with such a diagnosis, so it seems just as plausible to me this is not a disorder. Plus... well, it doesn't sound right to my ears. "I have Autistic Spectrum Disorder, and that's why I don't socialize easily" sounds...
See, I know what you're saying, and I do know it's a real phenomenon to take seriously. I strongly agree with this, for example:
There really is a huge diversity of people with mental and behavioural quirks (I confess I feel uneasy calling them "Disorders", even though they can be a real living problem as per the official definition of a "disorder"), and goodness knows I'd like more people to be aware of and to be respectful of it.
But it's when I try to apply it to myself that it just sounds unreal, like I'm looking for a handy excuse. (Yes, that's probably exactly the problem you're describing, but it still seems very plausible to me even taking that into account).
Do you think I should get a diagnosis from my doctor? I mean, not right now, but once the COVID-19 lockdown eases up, or something. It seems kind of an awkward thing to do, but if you think it'd help point me in the right direction...?
I addressed much of this in my other post 5376820, but I think there's more that can be said.
If you and your parents can't find common ground, maybe you can try something new with them. I know now's not really the best time for going out, but if you've never tried doing things like bowling or hiking together, maybe you can find some commonality there.
It seems like you've already figured out why some of these problems are happening: much of it seems to be caused by a lack of motivation. Getting out of a rut isn't easy, but I think the usual advice to this problem is "just do it." For situations where it matters, sometimes you've just got to grin and bear it, even if it seems torturous. If you stick to something, it'll start to feel normal after a while.
I think these blog posts are a good thing for you. Admitting that you have a problem is the first step in fixing that problem. Now you've got to act on it. Maybe start off small, forcing yourself to go outside of your comfort zone once every few days, and working up from there. Again, communication is key here. Letting your parents know about your troubles and that you want to fix them will be beneficial to all of you, I imagine.
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For what it's worth, I've been diagnosed with high-functioning autism since I was a child, but I found myself comparing a lot of what you've described to my own experiences. I'm also an introvert who sat alone at school lunches and doesn't really have any friends. I'm also struggling with feelings of academic inadequacy and motivation to apply my degree. Obviously these similarities don't necessarily mean you're neurodivergent like I am, but it is something to consider.
I don't know what healthcare is like in the UK, but if it won't financially cripple you, a diagnostic test might be worth looking into. It probably won't tell you anything new about yourself, but you'll have a better understanding of the condition you're in. If you are diagnosed with something, you might be entitled to disability benefits as well. I can't speak much for support groups; I've not really felt like I've needed mental support to be honest.
I don't really think there's anything wrong with leaving this unchecked, though. You really aren't any different with or without an official diagnosis of a disability. It would probably be best to get a second opinion on this. I honestly don't even know that much about my diagnosis, just that I think and act differently from most others and that I'm not good at social situations or expressing my thoughts. You've just got to learn to work around it.
5377045
Yeah, that's one of the more common dismissal tactics.
That's why you need to talk to a medical professional, and not try to self-diagnose.
Well, yeah. If it's significantly impairing your ability to function in day-to-day life, then it's a disorder; and you've described multiple ways that your day-to-day functioning is significantly, even profoundly, impaired, so...
1 in 6 people have at least one developmental disorder, and 1 in 5 have at least one mental disorder. And its estimated that a large percentage of these go undiagnosed, so that number may be even higher. One of the most significant causes of drug addiction and suicide is undiagnosed mental or neurological disorders, and the pressures that having a such an untreated disorder can cause result in a whole host of stress-related illnesses on top of that.
A good way to start is to stop calling them "quirks". "Quirky" is a common pat dismissal of real and significant issues. That's how supposedly "high functioning" people are denied their diagnosis and treatment for issues that may run far deeper, and be far more debilitating, than is apparent on the surface.
That's very much internalized cultural stigma: "You're just making excuses", "You just need to be more disciplined", "It's all in your head", "You just need to get out more/eat better", "It's just a conspiracy by Big Pharma to sell drugs", "It's just politically correct to want to be like this", and so on. I've collected a couple dozen common dismissals used to stigmatize these sorts of disorders; and frequently catch myself using them to dismiss and denigrate my own disabilities.
The questions you need to be asking yourself are "Do you want to improve?" "Have you made attempts to improve?" and "Have any of these been successful in the long term?" Look at the patterns of how you do things, how you deal with stressful situations (such as with your parents, which sounds avoidant from what you've said here), how you typically interact with others.
Are there people who are simply lazy? Well, yes, there are. Even people with disabilities and disorders can be lazy. But, and this is the important part, truly lazy people rarely if ever see themselves that way. They almost always have excuses for why they can't do things; they are constantly blaming others for their own failings, not themselves. And they generally do well enough with basic life functions. You're blaming yourself, and having difficulties with even the most basic life functions. That says "disorder" far more than it says "lazy". "Lazy" is one of the strongest weapons that the culture has developed to stigmatize and marginalize those with neurological and mental disorders.
I'd say it's something you should do as soon as you possibly can. A general practitioner is not going to be able to adequately diagnose a neurological or mental disorder; you need to see a specialist for that, which your GP can provide a referral for. If your GP dismisses the problem, or won't provide a referral, then find a new GP. If you're in the UK (as I seem to recall you are), then the NHS should have programs available to assist with this process. Same if you're in Canada, there are programs available which your GP should be able to hook you up with.
For those in the US... well... you're kinda screwed unless you have very good medical insurance. There are programs, but they can be very difficult to access, almost always grossly underfunded and understaffed, and vary widely from state to state with no real consistency; it's far too easy to fall through the cracks. I've been through those programs, I know how hard the process is; but if you can manage it, there are usually resources out there if you look long and hard enough.
Even if it's determined that you do not have a LDD or mental disorder, that still doesn't mean that you're "just lazy". Psychological disorders are just as valid and debilitating and neurological ones. Patterns of behaviour that have been trained into you from childhood are extremely difficult to break, as are dysfunctional behaviours caused by acute or persistent low-level trauma (such as that from emotionally-abusive parents). These are no less "real" disorders than neurological disorders are; and can take a good deal of time and effort to successfully treat.
Cognitive Behavioural Therapy is very valuable in treating both psychological disorders, and the psychological effects of neurological disorders.
Oh, and I want to touch on something from the OP that I neglected in my previous reply:
This is what is known as "enabling". Dismissing the abusive behaviour, pretending it doesn't exist or isn't a real problem, blaming the victim for the abuse, accusing the victim of "making it up" or "exaggerating" the problem. (A related, more extreme version of this is "gaslighting".) It's just as damaging as the abuse itself.
This is a similar situation to the one I went through. My dad was the abuser, my mom went around making excuses for his abuse, justifying it, downplaying it, insisting that it was something that we had to endure "to be good Christians", and so on; even when she was also the victim. She enabled it, exacerbated it, and made it extremely difficult for us to understand that what was happening was truly abuse, and not how normal, decent parents should act. It certainly didn't help that they were (and are) very religious science-denialists; never willing to consider that there was a real neurological disorder that needed real treatment, which would not be cured by "a good swift kick to the backside".
Incidentally, although they would both deny it up and down, they also had the same subtle racism and xenophobia ("immigrants" being a popular boogeyman). On top of that, there was a far more blatant and virulent LGBTQ+-phobia and opposition to anything even remotely "liberal"; justified by their religion, naturally.
The denial of privacy is also a classic tactic of abusers. It's a method of asserting dominance and control. My father also insisted on just barging into my room whenever he felt like it, whether I was there or not. If I was there, he'd always demand to know what I was doing, even if he didn't have any good reason for asking. It was all about making sure that I understood who was in control, and that I had to justify everything that I did that he didn't directly order me to do; because if it wasn't something he approved of, then it was a waste of time and should be quashed immediately. And, of course, G-D help you if you ever violated his privacy.
I apologize for the length of this, but words are hard.
Misdiagnosis of mental health disorders is one of the scourges of our time. Even now, while I have a pretty decent idea of what I have, I’m still a few diagnoses short since I can’t fork out the money for a serious mental health screening. And some of my earlier life diagnoses were incorrect. I had the luxury of my parents shopping around for a doctor who both knew what they were doing, and cared.
I barely made in through college due to my ADD (and possible undiagnosed depression). First year was great, second year, great. Then I lost my motivation. I still wanted the end goal, but I just couldn’t focus on doing what I needed to do to get there. If I’d had to go even one more semester, I wouldn’t have graduated, for sure.
Now, depression also does these things, and often arises from them. Lots of people who don’t have depression can’t even comprehend it. They don’t realize that depression is like the tide, it comes and it goes. Even if it leaves, it will return, inexorably. And, much like with our warming planet, the water rises over time.
It saps your strength, makes you tired even if you haven’t done anything. You can lose interest in things you used to be highly motivated about, all because small setbacks add up over time. People without depression can just brush those off. Every new attempt is actually a new one for them. For people with depression, the weight of every single setback that has ever been experienced is piled into a single burden that must be carried.
Now I feel I need to address this next thing specifically because of the dangers associated with ignoring it. The number one issue that came about from my own depression, was that feeling of guilt, of being a burden on others. It is a real feeling, regardless of what anyone else says. People would tell me that I shouldn’t feel that way because I wasn’t a burden. Didn’t matter. In fact, that made it worse. Because then I thought that I was being a burden for making them worry about me thinking I was a burden. People don’t seem to understand that it’s called a disorder for a reason. The feelings are not rational. If someone isn’t currently suffering from it, or hasn’t suffered from it, in the past, they actually can’t know. But that doesn’t make those feelings any less real.
For me, it felt like an actual chain around my neck. Every time my parents would throw money at me for something, I always thought “how am I going to pay this back?” Every time they’d give me advice or try to motivate me, I just felt like I was making them waste their time on me. And everything just made me feel more and more tired.
And that feeling of creeping exhaustion with life, the building guilt from feeling like I was a burden to everyone, led me to a very dark place. It seemed that all roads could only lead to a single outcome. I got out, but only with support & treatment.
So, in closing, I will not tell you what to do. My own experiences tell me quite plainly that doing so just adds to the burden. Any time someone told me to get over it, or to get myself motivated, or even to go get help, it just made me more tired, made things worse. Instead, I hope you read this, and I hope that you can relate to at least some of what I’ve written. And I hope that it helps you in some way to find answers of your own.
5377097
Very well said. That guilt -- which is itself a result of cultural stigmatization of "invisible" disorders and illnesses -- is itself highly debilitating, and can make what would otherwise be a difficult but manageable disorder into a completely crippling problem.
In my case, it certainly didn't help that that was how I was actively treated by my parents. They also made it quite clear, aside from my own feelings of guilt on the matter, that any assistance they did provide came with strings. I ended up having to just leave, couch-surfing for a while, to get out from under that. Still felt like I was a truly horrible person for not being successful in all the ways they decided I should be.
Well alright then. If they aren't as bad as you made out, then maybe family therapy is a better idea. Even if you wouldn't call it abuse, what your father is doing to violate what privacy you have still is not okay. It's still a controlling behavior.
Once again, I'm going to echo what Batwing is saying. Reading through this does raise the distinct possibility that you might have some sort of disorder. People in general have an inaccurate picture of what something like ADHD actually means. People think of little boys running around in classrooms. But for a lot of people who have it, the hyperactivity isn't even a symptom. It would be more accurate if it was just called "Attention Dysregulation Disorder" or something similar.
Your experience brings to mind a lot of what I know about ADHD. The troubles with rapid and inexplicable loss of interest and beating yourself up for being "lazy" especially. Some semesters I can handle a lot of work with little issue and others I struggle just to get some work done every day. It's not an excuse. Someone with a disorder like this can still be lazy of course, but imagine being told you're lazy for having legitimate and very real difficulties with focusing and staying committed. For someone with ADHD, it's like telling a depressed person to be happier since they obviously must have something to live for. And then there's the fact that ADHD and depression or anxiety do not mix together well at all. They just work together to suck all the motivation and energy out of you. It leaves you tired and exhausted even when you haven't done much work.
To me at least, the things you've had trouble with are more indicative of a disorder or some deeper psychological issues than some kind of genuine character flaw. After all, you know that this is problem and you've known in for quite some time. You feel about about being a burden on them. If it was as simple as ditching laziness, I don't think you'd be in this situation. You should seek out a specialist for this to explore this possibility of having a disorder in the realm of ADHD, ASD, or anxiety.
And even if you don't have a disorder, it doesn't necessarily mean you're just lazy either. If you've been struggling with this for this long, there may very well some deeper issues at play, and therapy can still be a good idea.
Well, you've met a few now, even if they're all online. It can be difficult for people to admit to themselves this is a problem they have, but it can easily be worth it. And it's true, you might not have any sort of disorder, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth to seek out professional help anyway.
5377224
5377045
Reading actual medical literature about ASD (which was still known as Asperger's Syndrome at the time) was one of the three biggest "Holy Shit!" moments I've ever had in my life. It was like looking in a mirror. It certainly didn't my life easier right away; but it did make it... less self-destructive? And it finally gave me the tools I needed to actually learn how to cope with the rest of the world.
That's the important part. It wasn't about having an "excuse", it was about finally getting the right tools and support that would enable me to function better. The tools that would actually work, instead of just making things worse. It was still a long, hard road (it would still be some time before ASD would be well-understood by the medical establishment, and therapy constructed appropriately), but at last I finally had a road, instead of being stuck in a swamp of depression and self-recrimination.
It's the old "when all you have is a hammer", problem. Mainstream culture only provided hammers, and I was one of those weird little curly-braces that needs a specialized tool.
Mental health diagnoses aside, you should not be blaming yourself for the reactions of your overly particular, insensitive parents. Your father is clearly emotionally abusive, and your mother is enabling him, if your perspective is anything to go by. They're in the wrong here far more than you are.
I have no advice to give on moving out on your own, sadly, but that's really what you need to look into. :C
I know how complicated things can get; my mother DECIDED that the boy scouts would be the best for me, because she didn't want me inside the house playing games, and so she decided that this would be the best to get me to do stuff outside and get some social interaction.
Spoiler alert, it didn't work.
I finally began to learn how to people in college, years after I left that. Of course, not before I got sunstroke.
Funny thing is, that she said that if I didn't want to go, I had to offer an alternative. Like, seriously? She was the one that asked around with other parents to even find the place they gathered, and the internet wasn't something I knew how to use much, AND even then the things I could have suggested were against the "physical activity/outdoors activities/preferably both if possible" thing she decided was good for me.
Didn't help that she could be easily influenced and got into that whole "Pokémon are from the devil" thing and whatever new things came to replace them, so I couldn't even suggest a tabletop rpg/games club, that, and she didn't want me indoors in a nonphysical activity.
She didn't think it was best for me, she decided it was best for me. And was wrong, but good luck getting her to see that.
She got much better and now she can see the bull of public opinions for what it is, but fat lot of good it does to me now.
5377642
Oh yes, now that's a tune I'm sadly familiar with. The push to go outdoors and exercise when I don't want to. Not to the extent you experienced, which sounds awful to me (one thing I'd hate is being put on the spot to make a decision I wasn't even aware I was supposed to be making).
My brother never had that problem because he was naturally sporty. And at first, when I was younger, I did swim and walk more often. But I never liked sports at school very much, and long before I reached university, I'd dropped most exercises. Tried to join a gym a few times, but it never stuck.
Now you mention it, in hindsight, I wonder how much of that was really my decision. It's not just that those activities faded out the older and more independent I got, but that later attempts of mine to take it seriously and to do anything more adventurous than walking more (which, to be fair, I feel I should be doing anyway, especially under lockdown) ended up feeling more like I was forcing myself into it.
I would like to walk more, yes, because it's an agreeable break from time to time. But to be honest, it'd be nicer to feel I was encouraged to do so than cajoled and criticized into doing it.
I'm sorry you had to go through even worse coercion. I can't imagine what that must have been like (the whole "Pokémon are from the devil" attitude you mention sounds downright surreal to me).
That cajoling and criticizing's the general attitude my dad has, though. It's maddening.
Only today, I thought I'd be more helpful than usual to show willing, after the good advice I received here. So earlier today, I cleaned up in the kitchen more than I usually do, took a piece of my dad's advice about using a cord extension for my devices to look after the cable for my laptop, put some bags away in the attic for him, and while he was out, confirmed a package delivery for him. I felt quite cheerful about it, actually, and happily told him what I'd done when he got back, the lot.
Just got a sardonic comment and a jibe about not having tidied up my bedroom yet.
And then when I came down later to make my dinner, he had a go at me for not using the oven to cook sausages that I cooked in a frying pan (besides, we had only one clean oven tray left - the others had been used and dirtied earlier today - and it was too big for just four sausages), makes a jibe about how I only did so because it cooks a whole four minutes faster (which I still don't understand why that's so bad) and moans now he'll have to clean the hob again, despite me not knowing he'd cleaned it at all today and both of us knowing I usually have my dinners now after mom and dad have theirs.
I didn't even say anything to him except explaining I was going to have dinner now. It just all came out of his mouth, just like that.
It honestly bothered me today, because up till now I hadn't thought about it as some kind of... well, abuse. He's been cranky before - alternating with a jokey or a mildly polite attitude depending on the day - but I usually put that down to the stresses of looking after my grandparents and the occasional annoyance he has handling e.g. some customer service people or the news in general.
Only now I reflect on it after all this talk, he doesn't talk to my mom that way, nor to my brother whenever I've seen them together. It just seems to be me who gets it, and occasionally my grandmother on dad's side (i.e. his own mum, and he generally doesn't seem to like her very much, given how sardonic he gets and how low he seems to think her intelligence is whenever they meet).
Sorry, I'm complaining a lot, but after the last couple of days in particular, I suddenly want to express myself. I just wish it didn't feel so unnatural for me, even now.
I'm glad you feel you can tell me about your troubles too. If nothing else, it's good to feel like I'm not alone in all this, so thank you for your solidarity.
5377089
More generally, I am thinking about what you, 5377085, 5377097, 5377224, and 5377295 have said. I'm grateful, I really am, but between the idea I might have had at least one disorder this whole time and the idea that this might actually be emotional abuse, it's a lot to take in, especially after how taxing the last couple of days have been.
If that's true, then there are a lot of assumptions I've been making for so long that will need re-examining. For instance, I've noticed how my relationship with my dad in particular has been deteriorating over the years, ever since university, but I thought of it as just difficult times or stress he was having elsewhere. And I'm not going to lie: just re-thinking about that sort of thing now, in the light of what you've been saying, is worrying.
If nothing else, I don't want any of you to feel I've been ignoring your words. Please rest assured of that. And I am grateful. It's just a lot to take in, and something I can't absorb all in one go. But I do want to say: Thank you for your honesty, and for your help. It's really been incredible.
5377827
It absolutely can be a lot to take in. Don't do anything until you're sure you'll be okay afterward, is all I can offer. :C
5377827
Didn't mean to imply you were doing so deliberately; I apologize if it came off that way. Was just point it out as a an example of how we're programmed by our culture to think of mental illness and neurological disorders; and to dismiss and marginalize them without really consciously understanding that's what we're going. It's difficult working through and discarding all those years and decades of cultural indoctrination; and we can see in the world today how violently resistant some people are to doing so. The fact that you're making the effort to examine your own ways of thinking are a very good start in that process.
Quite the opposite, in fact. The definition of "disorder" in this context is "a physical or mental condition that is not normal or healthy". Some would take exception to the "normal" terminology, but it's really not a value judgement in this context, merely a description. Other people like to use "atypical" rather than "not normal"; which I find useful as well.
By labeling something as a "disorder", you're taking away the stigma, not adding to it; because by doing so you're removing it from the realm of choice. It's not something that someone chooses to do or have, it's something that has been imposed on the person by heredity or environment (or usually some combination of the two). By defining it as a "quirk", you've defined it as a choice they're making; which is why so much of western culture likes to define some types of mental illness or neurological disorders as "quirky", "eccentric", or "weird". It turns those aspects of the person into choices that they make, instead of qualities they have no control over; and therefore any negative consequences are their fault for "acting that way". It's a form of victim blaming; a very popular pastime in much of the world.
Again, not blaming you for thinking that way, it's just the culture we were raised in. It can be very hard to divest ourselves of a lot of the exclusionary and marginalizing mindsets and behaviours that we've been programmed with since birth.
Don't beat yourself up over that either. I've spent decades trying to work through this shit, and still find myself blaming myself and beating myself up for things that aren't my fault, things that are biological limitations and the results of abuse, not choices I've made.
5377816
It wasn't terrible to be a boy scout, just quite annoying - and even then it is mostly on hindsight. It was... an OK experience all being said, although one of the trips was amazing even if I had to walk further than I had ever walked before... it's only that last trip that made me really think it wasn't worth it.
Then again, I have high tolerance for BS so I dunno.
As for the Pokémon thing, she just didn't like it that I liked it, and tried to convince me not to watch it; nothing happened that was on the order of getting on my case like your dad does, even though she did tend to complain a lot about me not doing something perfectly despite unclear instructions, or not even teaching me how it was done at all and obviously making mistakes.