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    Old 06-07-2018, 11:47 PM   #1
    Ronnie2018's Avatar
    Join Date: Jun 2018
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    Ronnie2018 HB User

    I want to be better, for all the people in my life who I love.

    Last night, I was talking to my boyfriend about so many tiny things he did that hurt me. But he never meant them. He loves me, I know that. It's so painful to accuse him of things like that. But in the moment, while I was talking to him, I believed completely that he had done them on purpose, even though this is about 1 year into a long distance relationship, and he is so gorgeous to have put up with my ups and downs throughout. I am beyond relieved, to be seeing him, in a week. I am crying at the thought of it as I type.

    I had also reacted horribly to my parents' persistent questions about my well-being, a few minutes before talking to my boyfriend. I . I feel pressured, to do what they consider right. They instruct me to very frequently. Their way of doing things is not like mine but is valid in a respect. I guess my father is very well learned, and he wants to protect me from all the evils in life without me ever encountering them. And I love him for that, but. They need to leave me alone. Or I need to get better at evading them without feeling bad.

    My parents fight a lot. I think they stayed together for so long just for my brother and I, or fear of social ridicule, or a sense of duty/respect for their own parents who had arranged their marriage. Perhaps the love is there, and mom suffers from the same illness I fear I may have, and dad has never had the courage to make her realize it. I am no longer a child, and have come across familiarities between mom's behaviors and the lives of people with mental disorders. It may be mild, it may be severe, it may be all in my own head. All I know is the pain, that has crippled my father, brother, and myself. We all have different ways of dealing with it.

    My brother distanced himself from my parents' problems when he left for college, with short and infrequent visits. If mom's brokedown during one of them, and dad's tolerance had reached zero... he'd laugh. He always tried to handle them, in a humourous way, toeing on the line of complete havoc at home. Sometimes, he'd succeed, but most times: there would be havoc. By havoc, I mean mom wailing and crying and moaning and screaming profanities across a closed door, with dad on the other side, either fighting back tears, or drinking, or laying motionless on the bed. There are memories I have. which are so difficult for me to think of. I am crying as I write about the times my father has not had the capacity to bear it, and hit my mother for crying and wailing profanities at him. This does not happen anymore, I think. I have had to live away from them since college started, and the episodes on my visits have been less severe, reaching only verbal abuse from both sides at max.

    My brother got married about a year ago, and his wife is now aware of these situations, because soon after the wedding was a week long stay at their new home, during which mom had a full blown episode, without dad around. That was when I realised my brother had long since forgotten about our childhood terrors, or had believed the happy phone calls and brief meetings. He had thought he'd never have to deal with it again, or that it had gone away, or that it was mom's fault, as he yelled right back at her during the episode.

    My father buries his pain, and has worked so hard in his career and become a very important person, in the world. He acts as though he can handle mom. But I know that the only reason mom has not recieved professional help is dad's fear of ridicule. He had tried, once. But that had resulted in abuse of the doctor, and mom had been left to no real care ever since. The way my father handles it is by containment. He doesn't take her out to long holidays. He doesn't let me or my brother sniff unease across phone calls. I don't dare ask where mom is when he calls, in case he is behind a door. But there have been times when they have both called me in quick succession, and pretended to be okay with stories about where the other is that don't add up. I have talked to my father about it, and heard his bitterness at points of breakdown in words like "I am, all that I am, INSPITE of this woman." But most of the time, he treats her like a child, distracts her mind with treats and fake power in decisions. But in times of real decisions where her opinion matters, there is almost always conflict.

    As I type this, my only hope is to get a job, marry my love, and care for mom, and count on my brother to help out my father if required. My boyfriend has a very clear picture of my life's problems. I hold him at the highest place in my heart. He is my life. To add to this, my father is as orthodox as they come, and has yet to acknowledge my boyfriend's place in my heart. I am not sure if dad wants to be the one to arrange my marriage, but he has been evading conversations about my bf, and has even forced a meeting with a different boy, whose parents he knows. But that is not too bad a concern, I love him fiercely, I just don't want to put my father through any more pain. I will find my way out of this.

    Towards the end of my 1 year stay in a foreign country, at the end of college and start of adulthood, away from the love of my life, I feel broken. The pain of my past. The looming decisions of life. I wonder if my volatile moods are a result of this, or an illness. It may just be the pain. I crave comfort and understanding.

    I have good mornings. But as the day goes on, small mistakes make me too aware of my inadequacy. Things my boyfriend says or doesn't say to me start seeming suspicious, and I can no longer trust myself to think clearly. To deal with this, some days I do so much work that I don't think at all. But lately, the bad days have been more frequent, where I have been sucked into my own fears and startled by real evidence of their truth. I get nothing done. If I do dare to talk, I can't stop. I speak about the worst things, and I end up believing them. Last night was one such occasion, where I blamed my boyfriend for not caring about me, and cried and proved to him that he didn't. Out loud. To his face. He saw it all. He actually took it in. He listened, even validated some of my accusations. As I type this, I know it is not okay.

    Within an hour, I was able to regain my calm. I started believing his words more than my own. I was drawn back to reality. A wonderful reality. Of his concern. Of his fierce love. His undying affection. I found myself apologising like my mother does, a day or two after one of her episodes. I felt the surge of guilt. I do not want to hurt my love. I need help. Glad to recognise it early.

    I have been unable to stay good. I am terrified of the time around 3:30 AM, if I happen to stay awake till then.

    Today, I'm fine. I'm working. I have a list ot things to get done, and I'm doing it. But I do not know what will happen in the next few hours.

    Please help. Please be gentle and careful in your words.

    Last edited by Administrator; 06-08-2018 at 07:26 AM.

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    fears, paranoia, personality disorder

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