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Zilvergold

Member Since 21 Jul 2018
Offline Last Active Jul 21 2018 08:43 AM
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#587290 How dp/dr saved me

Posted by Zilvergold on 21 July 2018 - 07:43 AM

Hello, friends!
Dp/dr sucks that is no secret. I have had it for almost 2 years now and in a way I am glad I got it:

My family is pretty fcked up. I never realized this. I did have depression and suicidal ideas from a young age, but my parents just pretended it to be puberty and so I though that it was normal.

Until I got dp/dr I always though that my family was great. That my mom and dad loved me and that everything was fine. I thought that dp/dr TOOK all that from me, only now I realize that dp/dr never took that from me. Dp/dr helped me see that I never had that in the first place.

From age 0 to 12 my father was addicted to alcohol. He verbally and physically abused my mother. Because of this no body really ever took care of me emtionally. Yes, I had a roof above my head, clothes and food but none of that matters if your parents are too bussy fighting each other.

Apart from the fighting between my parents my mom is a narcisist. From the moment I was born she decided what I wore, how my hair got cut and what kind of hobies I should do in the future until around 13 years old. If I told her that I didn’t want what she wanted for me I got screamed at. She would squeeze my arm till it hurts, bring her face very close to me and scream at me.

The worst of this wasn’t only that I couldn’t be myself. She wanted me to cut mt hair very short (for example) because she was never allowed to have short hair. It was as if she had a second childhood through me.

The screaming didn’t stop there. I would get screamed at for not doing something she wanted me to do fast enough. I got made fun off for liking the movies, books and things Iiked to the point that I stopped liking them. The threatend to hurt me (they rarely did) a lot! And for very stupid things like wispering to my sister while we were supposed to be asleep 10 minutes ago (both my parents would run up the stares with a big wooden spoon and threaten to slap us if we didn’t fall asleep imediately).

My parents would get angry if I hurt myself (if I fell they would just get mad) and I wasn’t allowed to cry or upset. If I cried they’d either scream at me and threaten to hurt me or they’d force me to sit on the couch and they’d start laughing at me.

They’d also wouldn’t let me keep all of my birthday presents. They’d made me choose 2 or 3 presents I really liked and then they’d give the rest of the presents away on the birthday of other children.

I never got hugged as a child, but I was suppose to (emotionally) take care of my mothers needs. I was supposed to hug her if she felt bad. And so I did.

By the time I went to highschool (You are around 12 years old then where I live) I litteraly had no personality, I had no identy, there was nothing I liked. I had no idea how to behave around other children, so I just pretended to be happy and made stupid jokes. Because I thought that there was nothing wrong with my parents I truly beliefed that I was as happy as I acted.

In highschool 2 of my teachers and one friend commited suicide this al within 2 years (from age 13 to 14). Only my friend survived.

My parents knew about the teacher, but not about my friend. I was to scared to tell them, because I was afraid to get punished for being friends with someone who tried to commit suicide.

When I was 13 I also started cutting myself. My parents saw a cut on my arm one time and asked me how I got it. I told them one extremely unrealistic story, but they didn’t even really listen. They just asked because it made them sound like a good parent. Just like how they asked me how everything went at school, they didn’t really care. When I told them about me getting bullied at school they just said that I had a bad day, even though I told them so many stories of the bullying (this will be important later).

The first 2 years of highschool where a nightmare. Not only were this the years where I got bullied the most, they were also the years were my dad stopped drinking completely.

“That is great!” You must have thought. No it wasn’t. My dad drinking meant that they were too bussy fighting to think about me. My dad stopping with drinking meant that he had all the time to think about me. Not as a person btw! He thought of my grades: He has screamed and stressed me so much about my grades (they were fine btw, they were on the high side even) that sometimes I just wanted to threw myself from a bridge. I have cried in class when they anounced my grades, because I was so horribly afraid to get home and get screamed at (or get ignored for 1 to 2 days). I told my mom that I didn’t want to be at home (I live in holland. Here everyone bikes to school. Instead of going home directly I would bike around town for at least 30 minutes to an hour before going home). When I told my mom how I hated being home she just screamed at me: “Why wouldn’t you want to be at home! You have everything!” (she got maaaaaad).

Around this time (13 year old) was also the very first time I experienced dp/dr. I didn’t know what it was. I only had it for 3 months and it went away on it’s own. I told my parents about it, but they didn’t care. They just laughed at me when I told them that I also told my teacher about it because “I must have cried” (I did).

I never really had any friends. In the time that I didn’t got bullied my classmates would just ignore. If I talked to a classmate they didn’t hear me. If I joined the games they were playing they’d ignore me.
At one point I was CONVINCED that I was invisible like gost. I’d look at my hands sometimes to see if I was real (I didn’t have dp/dr here).

Sometimes (actually a lot of the times) I’d cry myself asleep (age 13 to 15). If my mom noticed that I had be crying she’d (just like a good mother is supposed to) come in my room and ask me why I was crying. I told her that I didn’t know (I really didn’t know. Like I said: crying and being angry wasn’t allowed. I probably supressed all my emotions to the point where I didn’t even know what I was feeling or why). Whenever I told her that I didn’t know she would get irrated or angry (or both) mock me and leave (she did the same if I looked sad or depressed).

By the time I was 15 I started selfharming myself more.
I wouldn’t just cut myself I would barely eat and puke my food out a lot. I actually started to kinda get addicted to this (it might have been an eating dissorder, but I don’t want to call it that since I haven’t been diagnosed with one so I will refer to it as “dieting”).

At first I though that I started “dieting” to lose weight (I was almost overweight and did get bullyed for it sometimes by my mom), but later I realized that it wasn’t only to lose weight: My main goal was to hurt myself with it.

Cutting myself also got worse. At one point I cutted around 15cm of my arm with a razor blade. I wore some kind of ribbon around it so that it would look like I was just trying to look cool instead of covering up woonds.

One time the ribbon slipped off my arm and my parents saw the scares. The first thing they did was blaming my “friends” behavior (I belief that they even took my phone away. The day after they took it away they gave it back and told me that it was weird indeed to punish someone for cutting themselves) It took them maybe a month to stop talking about having bad friends and beliefing me that it might have been caused by the bullying (what happend 2 years ago). We went to the doctor and they tested my blood. There was nothing wrong with my blood.

Also, when I told them about the bullying they (my parents) acted like I never told them about it before and they said that yes: I must have mentioned once they never realy thought that it was that bad (I told them how people stole my stuff and hid around school. I told them how people kicked my chair and threw paper at me, I told them how people insulted me, I even told them how someone kicked me and emptied a water botle above my head!)

Then we moved to another school (and another town) and I went to a therapist 6 months later (I was 16). By the time I went into therapy I already had dp/dr for a few months. I talked with my therapist about the bullying and how parents “argued” (that is how they called it).
At first we tried EDMR, but it didn’t really work. Then all we did was just trying to make think more positive.

At first it really helped and I felt happy again. However this was just the fake kind of happiness I felt when I entered highschool and pretend everything to be fine, because my parents always made me think that everything was (and is) fine. I almost healed from dp/dr, but I went on vacation with my parents and got a lot of panick attacks. Everything got back to zero).

A year later (which is where we are now. I am 17 now) I went to another therapist. between everything going back to zero and going to another therapist I found a reddit subforum named: raisedbynarcisists. (I found it after a google search: my mom is using me as her therapist).

It made me see that my family was way more fcked up then I thought.

Dp/dr made that I really had to sit with myself and my emotions. I started to realize that if I didn’t got dp/dr I wouldn’t have really thought about all the shit that has happend. I wouldn’t have been to therapy and realize that my family isn’t normal and I defenitely wouldn’t try to heal myself because my parents are still telling me to this very day that they are good parents ( and I am still not allowed to be my own person btw).

When I got dp/dr at first started to think about how lives sucks now and how it was better then. I decided that to get rid of it I must do a lot of inner work to see if there might be something that happend specifically that caused it. Upon doing all this inner work I stumbled on all this shit.

Looking back and realizing that my parents were wrong and abusive even is extremly painfull, not feeling any emtions just made it easier to sort it out.

And honestly that makes that I am nothing more but glad and gratefull for having dp/dr.