Typhlosion
October 21st, 2014, 04:58 PM
Warning: if you don't want to be shocked/lose respect for me, it's best not to read.
Ya know, this has been on my chest for a long time, and a very recent series of events makes me share this with you guys, plus inspiration from the chat room about parents abusing kids. As VirtualTeen is a help site, I guess it's most dishonest if you hide your own problems.
Physical abuse
For some reason, I was never comfortable with my family. No, my parents and sister are OK (got my issues, but almost irrelevant) but the whole setting, the "home" I live in, for some reason, doesn't agree with me. Like my parents say, on good times a week or two pass by that I'm not fighting with everyone. I know I have some problems with anger control (in Germany, 7-9 years old, I fought literally every other day) but it seems very restricted to this setting.
So I fight a lot. Okay, no biggie. The problem is when things go overboard. I first started venting, in heated discussions (read: shouting at each other for at least 2 hours), at objects, sometimes braking them. As I vented, my father started to act more defensive over time. And as he became defensive, more he put me down to the floor and gave me a time out out of home. These things are really aggressive too, once he chipped my tooth after accidentally hitting me with his elbow.
After a while, I started reacting to my father. At first I would be put down almost immediately, maybe he received a few punches but nothing bad. But I grew older, stronger, and smarter. This later evolved to throwing stuff at my father, anything from cookies to boxes to a fan and even a wooden chair. If I'm not wrong, the same night I threw the fan the fight got so bad, but so so bad, that my father was threatening me with a plastic chair while I was at the other side of the living room with a knife in my hand. And at that point, I was ready for the kill. Nothing happened with that, thankfully.
That was last year. This year I was pent up, another fight happened. It was about the house not being tidy, at all, and noone did anything to help that. I proceeded with my notebook and loudspeakers in my parents room (which they didn't sleep in because there was so much junk a top of the bed) and said I would clean up. Things evolved, verbally, to the point where I and my father were going at "don't touch me" waiting for the other to move. As my cellphone was playing music, and was above the mattress laid on the wall (they really didn't use the bed), my father reached for it and, well, I reacted. My dad was trying to push me down while I was trying to push him into the walls, to hurt him, and at a point where he almost got me...
I strangled my father.
(And I am still proud that I managed to do that, by the way. He's big)
And I only let go because my mother was telling me to let go because I was holding him for too long, and she said that my father would stop if I let go. I let go, my father pushed the unexpecting me with full force to the ground, and as he was about to take action he had a heart attack. I made my father have a heart attack.
Nothing physical has happened since.
As a bonus section, my sister is, at a lesser degree, also not exempt from this. I'm sure I've kicked her, with force, several times. I occasionally punch her when she's really disagreeable (she uses me for entertainment though, it sucks) and I've even gone to the extent of punching her in her sleep because of my misophonia, back in the day.
Mental abuse
I am also a manipulative bastard. You know what was the result of the last fight? An extra 5$ in my pocket, daily. And going to home less. I blended the whole confusion with coming back home (which I dislike, as I said above) and the bus tickets aren't cheap, so I said, contempt with the bus expenses, that I would only return that day, to my university, by taxi, that would cost as much as a month's worth of going to and fro from uni and home. And I smile at the results.
This week I pushed even further. While I was/am truly depressed at my situation (bad grades, lack of anything, poorly eating) I told my parents to call me, and I pouted a bit too much - almost half an hour of wailing that college is over. And at a point of the conversation I had gotten what I wanted, to stay at college even if I don't pass all my courses. Since I pouted too much, I returned home to rectify the situation.
I was truly upset, and started saying way too much foul language with my mother at the supermarket. I remember my mother said something I got irritated at, and, in the middle of the parking lot, I said I wanted so badly to punch her face and called her a slut (or, "vadia" in portuguese) for emphasis. What followed was a three hour fight, inside the car, with my parents, which included threatening my father with the previous choking, they telling me to go and never come back, calling my dad an immoral piece of shit (he is a racist, anti-gay guy and a bigot, truly), criticism on both person's lives (my father never had a job, me doing poorly at college). At least three police cars passed by when we stopped at the curb. And you know what? I got what I wanted, five more years at university paid by my parents. It did have some backlash (less money for food), but I... kinda consider the result as profit.
I've also manipulated them many times in the past, but not like this.
Wrapping up
I got problems, no doubt, but come on. How in the fuck do they still support me? I don't think any of your parents would tolerate a tenth of this. And I still hate being home, it's the number one reason I study in a different state and, as i told them many times, I'd probably die of depression if I stayed home. I hate the setting. People? They're ok. Not my faves, save maybe my mother, but they're not bad to deserve this shit.
It took me 18 years to figure out that, holy shit, how in the fuck are they still tolerating me. It's not in orders of a simple apology, but I'm 101% sure that I want to correct my past. And myself, of course. Everyone in my family, including myself, are so hesitant to any change.
I'm not this guy in the inside, or, well, that's nothing I ever wish I could be. I don't think I'm ever too honest with myself, and I really want to work on that, and I feel like this would be the best and greatest step forward.
Yeah, you know.
Getting to know Alex, I guess.
Ya know, this has been on my chest for a long time, and a very recent series of events makes me share this with you guys, plus inspiration from the chat room about parents abusing kids. As VirtualTeen is a help site, I guess it's most dishonest if you hide your own problems.
Physical abuse
For some reason, I was never comfortable with my family. No, my parents and sister are OK (got my issues, but almost irrelevant) but the whole setting, the "home" I live in, for some reason, doesn't agree with me. Like my parents say, on good times a week or two pass by that I'm not fighting with everyone. I know I have some problems with anger control (in Germany, 7-9 years old, I fought literally every other day) but it seems very restricted to this setting.
So I fight a lot. Okay, no biggie. The problem is when things go overboard. I first started venting, in heated discussions (read: shouting at each other for at least 2 hours), at objects, sometimes braking them. As I vented, my father started to act more defensive over time. And as he became defensive, more he put me down to the floor and gave me a time out out of home. These things are really aggressive too, once he chipped my tooth after accidentally hitting me with his elbow.
After a while, I started reacting to my father. At first I would be put down almost immediately, maybe he received a few punches but nothing bad. But I grew older, stronger, and smarter. This later evolved to throwing stuff at my father, anything from cookies to boxes to a fan and even a wooden chair. If I'm not wrong, the same night I threw the fan the fight got so bad, but so so bad, that my father was threatening me with a plastic chair while I was at the other side of the living room with a knife in my hand. And at that point, I was ready for the kill. Nothing happened with that, thankfully.
That was last year. This year I was pent up, another fight happened. It was about the house not being tidy, at all, and noone did anything to help that. I proceeded with my notebook and loudspeakers in my parents room (which they didn't sleep in because there was so much junk a top of the bed) and said I would clean up. Things evolved, verbally, to the point where I and my father were going at "don't touch me" waiting for the other to move. As my cellphone was playing music, and was above the mattress laid on the wall (they really didn't use the bed), my father reached for it and, well, I reacted. My dad was trying to push me down while I was trying to push him into the walls, to hurt him, and at a point where he almost got me...
I strangled my father.
(And I am still proud that I managed to do that, by the way. He's big)
And I only let go because my mother was telling me to let go because I was holding him for too long, and she said that my father would stop if I let go. I let go, my father pushed the unexpecting me with full force to the ground, and as he was about to take action he had a heart attack. I made my father have a heart attack.
Nothing physical has happened since.
As a bonus section, my sister is, at a lesser degree, also not exempt from this. I'm sure I've kicked her, with force, several times. I occasionally punch her when she's really disagreeable (she uses me for entertainment though, it sucks) and I've even gone to the extent of punching her in her sleep because of my misophonia, back in the day.
Mental abuse
I am also a manipulative bastard. You know what was the result of the last fight? An extra 5$ in my pocket, daily. And going to home less. I blended the whole confusion with coming back home (which I dislike, as I said above) and the bus tickets aren't cheap, so I said, contempt with the bus expenses, that I would only return that day, to my university, by taxi, that would cost as much as a month's worth of going to and fro from uni and home. And I smile at the results.
This week I pushed even further. While I was/am truly depressed at my situation (bad grades, lack of anything, poorly eating) I told my parents to call me, and I pouted a bit too much - almost half an hour of wailing that college is over. And at a point of the conversation I had gotten what I wanted, to stay at college even if I don't pass all my courses. Since I pouted too much, I returned home to rectify the situation.
I was truly upset, and started saying way too much foul language with my mother at the supermarket. I remember my mother said something I got irritated at, and, in the middle of the parking lot, I said I wanted so badly to punch her face and called her a slut (or, "vadia" in portuguese) for emphasis. What followed was a three hour fight, inside the car, with my parents, which included threatening my father with the previous choking, they telling me to go and never come back, calling my dad an immoral piece of shit (he is a racist, anti-gay guy and a bigot, truly), criticism on both person's lives (my father never had a job, me doing poorly at college). At least three police cars passed by when we stopped at the curb. And you know what? I got what I wanted, five more years at university paid by my parents. It did have some backlash (less money for food), but I... kinda consider the result as profit.
I've also manipulated them many times in the past, but not like this.
Wrapping up
I got problems, no doubt, but come on. How in the fuck do they still support me? I don't think any of your parents would tolerate a tenth of this. And I still hate being home, it's the number one reason I study in a different state and, as i told them many times, I'd probably die of depression if I stayed home. I hate the setting. People? They're ok. Not my faves, save maybe my mother, but they're not bad to deserve this shit.
It took me 18 years to figure out that, holy shit, how in the fuck are they still tolerating me. It's not in orders of a simple apology, but I'm 101% sure that I want to correct my past. And myself, of course. Everyone in my family, including myself, are so hesitant to any change.
I'm not this guy in the inside, or, well, that's nothing I ever wish I could be. I don't think I'm ever too honest with myself, and I really want to work on that, and I feel like this would be the best and greatest step forward.
Yeah, you know.
Getting to know Alex, I guess.