Sounds like me.JanineBaker said:I didn't lead anything remotely resembling a normal life. I had no relationships, very very few friends...from 17-25, really didn't spend time with ANYone except my immediate family, went out to go to the psychiatrist and occasionally woudl venture to the store or something with my grandmother. I lay in bed mostly in the dark and watched tv.
That's how I feel all the time.JanineBaker said:....every hour was a month, and every day was a year.
That sounds a lot like my life too. I'm an only child in a really small family, all of who are verbally/emotionally/mentally abusive to this day. I wasn't loved, cared about or given any emotional support growing up. I always thought it was because by the time I was 5 I decided that I was athiest, and my mom wanted me to be a little miss christian missionary and since she didn't get that, she cared less and less about me through the years. By the time I was 8 I was convinced of it. So she stopped caring about me. I grew up not being able to say what I feel because I'd only be yelled and screamed at about how much trouble I cause *her*, how bad I make *her* life, etc. I always thought I should have been a parent's wet dream - a smart, advanced kid. But no, I grew up and am still thought of by my family as the worst person who ever lived. They CONSTANTLY accuse me of being a drug dealer, stealing, and everything else illegal when I have never in my life been in any kind of trouble. They just think I'm an evil, horrible peice of s**t. But they think of themselves as perfect wonderful saints who have done so much for me and I should be kissing their a** all the time. The only difference between me and you is you grew up wealthy and I grew up in poverty, which has made my life hell because it's next to impossible to make anything of yourself when you're poor, unless you look like a supermodel and I don't so I'm screwed. At one point as a kid, somewhere around 9 to 11-ish I guess, my mom actually said to me she'd never have another kid for fear that that one would turn out even worse than me. They've always thought of me as the most horrible person who ever lived. Kind of makes me wish I did have the finances to get drums again (I had them and had to sell them to get another transmission for my car) and to learn to play and get my band off the ground, because trust me, they want evil, they'll see evil, there's no one darker than us. But it would take hundreds of thousands of dollars, especially since one of our core members is from Scotland and has a 6 year old, we'd have to be rich enough to get her into the country. *sigh*Dreamer said:I had a very unsupportive, verbally/mentally abusive mother and an absent father which made matters much worse. No siblings, no real extended family.
I was thinking about this again the other day, I had a childhood totally lacking in love and emotional support, so that affected me deeply, and psychologically, but I see DP, anxiety, depression as an illness I had a predisposition to. And of course the psychology interacts with the illness... there is really no separating the two -- they act upon each other.
As a young girl I was more "unhappy", "anxious", "felt different" but also could bring on episodes of DP/DR at will that weren't scary. But I was constantly anxious and sad.
Dear Rob,rob said:some days I just hold my head in my hands and just cry - cry for myself and cry for all that's lousy in the world where we have so much - other days I'm optimistic and a serious go-getter for me and my family - it's weird but those crying moments often have a strange clarity accompanying them