Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:It meant that I had to learn to be very self reliant and independent, learning to navigate things on my own. I don't like asking for help, and receiving help makes me feel very uncomfortable, since I learned that I only have myself to lean on.

In my circumstance, one parent died as a child. My surviving parent was depressed after that. They did the essentials - provided home, shelter, food, basic needs, but my emotional needs were not met. It often meant taking care of and consoling my surviving depressed parent, instead of having help dealing with my own grief and hardship. The term "parentified child" fits me to a T.

As an adult, I have a lot of empathy for that parent. They tried. They didn't have the tools or support themselves (both in childhood and later as a parent) to deal with their own sh!t. I see them as human - they weren't malicious - they just didn't know any better (even though I really wish they could have been)

As an adult now, I allow myself to be selfish and take care of myself as much as I need to, provided I'm not harming others.

This is me. This was exacerbated by the fact that my older sibling was seen as being more needy, and I was the “strong” one. As an adult, my mother apologized to me; she said that they always assumed I’d be ok, and she could see that was unfair.

As an adult, I have no issues taking care of myself, but I still have problems with seeking and taking support from others.

wow, both PP are very relatable. Also the child of a parent that died young, leaving the remaining parent struggling for years. Had a sibling that "acted out" ie, physically abused me, while I "acted in" (hated myself, eventually lead to self harm), which my parent viewed as my sibling needing help since they were explosive and I was self-reliant and a "good kid"

many years of learning never to ask for help, but only relying on myself. Then sexual assault as a teenager. Turned my "acted in" coping skills into self harm and eating disorders. Decades of therapy off and on, and only still unpacking some of the maladative coping skills I was forced to learn as a kid to survive.

Hugs to you. I want to acknowledge and commend you for surviving. You did what you could with the knowledge you had as very young person, and I wish you all the best with healing.

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:It meant that I had to learn to be very self reliant and independent, learning to navigate things on my own. I don't like asking for help, and receiving help makes me feel very uncomfortable, since I learned that I only have myself to lean on.

In my circumstance, one parent died as a child. My surviving parent was depressed after that. They did the essentials - provided home, shelter, food, basic needs, but my emotional needs were not met. It often meant taking care of and consoling my surviving depressed parent, instead of having help dealing with my own grief and hardship. The term "parentified child" fits me to a T.

As an adult, I have a lot of empathy for that parent. They tried. They didn't have the tools or support themselves (both in childhood and later as a parent) to deal with their own sh!t. I see them as human - they weren't malicious - they just didn't know any better (even though I really wish they could have been)

As an adult now, I allow myself to be selfish and take care of myself as much as I need to, provided I'm not harming others.

This is me. This was exacerbated by the fact that my older sibling was seen as being more needy, and I was the “strong” one. As an adult, my mother apologized to me; she said that they always assumed I’d be ok, and she could see that was unfair.

As an adult, I have no issues taking care of myself, but I still have problems with seeking and taking support from others.

wow, both PP are very relatable. Also the child of a parent that died young, leaving the remaining parent struggling for years. Had a sibling that "acted out" ie, physically abused me, while I "acted in" (hated myself, eventually lead to self harm), which my parent viewed as my sibling needing help since they were explosive and I was self-reliant and a "good kid"

many years of learning never to ask for help, but only relying on myself. Then sexual assault as a teenager. Turned my "acted in" coping skills into self harm and eating disorders. Decades of therapy off and on, and only still unpacking some of the maladative coping skills I was forced to learn as a kid to survive.

My mother was a depressed narcissist who would disappear for days into her bedroom and sleep in the dark. I don't know how it affected me in terms of the contrast a joyful, energetic mother would have had. It was my normal and I've not had therapy about it, though I probably should. I'm just grateful I take more after my own father who was upbeat and optimistic his entire life.

Hugs, PP. so much of what you wrote resonates with me. Especially your mom sabotaging you because she feared you exceeding her, and the late-in-life decision to go on medication while also claiming it would never have been possible to get that kind of help when I was a child dealing with her behaviors.

Just hugs. We deserved better. Everyone does.

I never realized my discomfort in asking for or receiving help comes from growing up with a depressed and anxious parent. Nothing was good enough for this person. When I applied to colleges, I was screamed at because we didn’t have enough saved. How would I know that? She could not simply have a conversation but had to scream at me. That happened over and over. When I was in trouble and almost run over by a car at age five or six, I didn’t want to tell her because she’d say it was my fault.

My life lacked emotional support and empathy.

I’ve had therapy and worked on self-esteem and confidence. I’m on medication after trying many kinds. I always thought something was wrong with me for many years and then was finally told I’m also depressed and anxious.

One thing that hurts is I felt my mother wanted to sabotage my efforts. She hated math and it’s like she didn’t want me to be good at it.

My husband had to tell me to apologize when I was wrong. I had never felt safe enough to admit o being wrong. As a kid, I’d be screamed at…
As a parent, I did the opposite:

I didn’t scream at my kids.
I apologized for my mistakes.
We talked about college finances.
I never said one bad thing about math and offered tutors, if needed. My children have all exceeded me in math, and I’m proud of that.
I listen without saying the kid is overreacting or silly.
I don’t say, “my family is dead.”
When bad stuff happens to my kid, I don’t victim blame.

But I still have had my emotions get the better of me and discovered I have adhd.

This experience is a disability.

These days, I ignore and detach when my mother tries to get me involved in her emotions. When her meds were off last year, she began screaming at me. I left as soon a I could, because I can’t be her therapist.

She’s ok now and even makes jokes now that she’s on meds and I wonder why she didn’t do this years ago. She had said she couldn’t because of her job.
She would have done far less damage if she had been on medicine.

Anonymous wrote:It meant that I had to learn to be very self reliant and independent, learning to navigate things on my own. I don't like asking for help, and receiving help makes me feel very uncomfortable, since I learned that I only have myself to lean on.

In my circumstance, one parent died as a child. My surviving parent was depressed after that. They did the essentials - provided home, shelter, food, basic needs, but my emotional needs were not met. It often meant taking care of and consoling my surviving depressed parent, instead of having help dealing with my own grief and hardship. The term "parentified child" fits me to a T.

As an adult, I have a lot of empathy for that parent. They tried. They didn't have the tools or support themselves (both in childhood and later as a parent) to deal with their own sh!t. I see them as human - they weren't malicious - they just didn't know any better (even though I really wish they could have been)

As an adult now, I allow myself to be selfish and take care of myself as much as I need to, provided I'm not harming others.

This is me. This was exacerbated by the fact that my older sibling was seen as being more needy, and I was the “strong” one. As an adult, my mother apologized to me; she said that they always assumed I’d be ok, and she could see that was unfair.

As an adult, I have no issues taking care of myself, but I still have problems with seeking and taking support from others.

Ugh, so much to say:

My Dad (now 80s) shared many years ago with my mother that he never remembered a time he wasn’t depressed. Turns out he was Bipolar 2 but no one picked up on it until much later in life.

He tended toward depression 5x more than mania and meds made that 10x until he had a full blown breakdown and was hospitalized for a year when I was in HS. Good times.

Ironically, both my kids and my niece have shades of Bipolar 2 (it can be more of a spectrum than people realize).

My Dad had 3 gears when I was growing up:

Funny and engaging (rare)
Explosive (sometimes)
Silent and brooding (often)

I’m in my 50s now and the biggest impact on me has been recognizing how codependent I tend to be. My mother-an undereducated immigrant—had few options with 3 kids. So, she stayed with my Dad and I watched her “manage” the house, him, and our childrearing on her own while essentially walking on eggshells. Not the best model.

Thankfully, I married someone far more stable than my Dad and have TONS of therapy so life is good overall, but I still an way more codependent in most aspects of my life than is healthy. It’s actually exhausting

Anonymous wrote:My mom struggled with anxiety and depression, but was an externalizer so it manifested in rage,
scapegoating, venting all her issues to me from a young age, hurling insults at me when she felt I was not doing enough for her, making me responsible for her happiness, etc. I went into therapy on and off as different issues came up like being in an abusive relationship with a guy in college, being in an abusive work situation and then eldercare issues. It wasn't until eldercare issues I stopped worshipping and trying to please mom and shared what was really going on. The therapists eyes bugged out of her head as I shared stories from now and growing up. She wondered about personality disorders like BPD and NPD and even bipolar, but over time I think we figured out it was more the less preferable manifestation of anxiety and depression along with maybe some traits of personality disorders. She definitely was NOT an internalizer.

I do think it's not just genetics that made anxious and prone to depression, but modeling what I saw even though I internalized unlike her. That said, by nature I am an optimist, and I reclaimed that and was able to manage my won anxiety when I learned more about it and stopped seeing mom as a model. Now when she tries to emotion dump on me I detach and suggest therapy. I don't let myself catch her moods. I also stopped having so much empathy for her because it turned into me constantly forgiving abusive behavior.

+1

Yes! This! Good for you for identifying this and getting help AND NOT enabling!!

My dad has always been depressed, is extremely self centered and has no empathy.

It affected me in so many ways, it could fill a book.

Understanding this about him has set me free in many ways. I still have a relationship with him for my mom’s sake, but l basically ignore him when l visit, though not in a rude or obvious way, and we get along fine now. Do l wish l had a better dad who was mentally health? Sure. But I’m not sad any more about it.

I realize now how much trauma both my parents had as children. My mother is highly anxious and always worried about everything. She lost a sibling to an accident when she was young and became very codependent and stays with my dad even though he treats her poorly at times.

My father was abused as a child with highly neglectful parents and a brother who beat him. He became very narcissistic and critical of other people.

It has taken a lot of work as an adult to break free of their negative patterns and keep them at a distance and not feel overwhelmed by their demanding and highly overreactive personalities.

I recently read a great book called 'It didn't start with you" that examines generational trauma. It gives you these little exercises to identify the scripts that your mother and father had (i.e. I am not important enough to ask for things, etc. ) running through their own heads -- the things they said and didn't say, and the ways in which you might have internalized those scripts. it's helpful to look back and to understand the environment in which you were raised and the scripts which get passed down from generation to generation. I was able to identify a situation in which my mother was kind of dumped off on other relatives while her mother worked, and how she internalized this script that she should just take whatever she was given and not make demands, and the ways in which this affected me with my own struggle to articulate what I want or even to identify my own desires. A really great book.

It meant that I had to learn to be very self reliant and independent, learning to navigate things on my own. I don't like asking for help, and receiving help makes me feel very uncomfortable, since I learned that I only have myself to lean on.

In my circumstance, one parent died as a child. My surviving parent was depressed after that. They did the essentials - provided home, shelter, food, basic needs, but my emotional needs were not met. It often meant taking care of and consoling my surviving depressed parent, instead of having help dealing with my own grief and hardship. The term "parentified child" fits me to a T.

As an adult, I have a lot of empathy for that parent. They tried. They didn't have the tools or support themselves (both in childhood and later as a parent) to deal with their own sh!t. I see them as human - they weren't malicious - they just didn't know any better (even though I really wish they could have been)

As an adult now, I allow myself to be selfish and take care of myself as much as I need to, provided I'm not harming others.