I feel like writing this is asking for pity or something, but I just want to express this feeling I have.
I had a family who took my childhood from me and had me in service to their needs instead. I wasn't allowed to be innocent - I had to look after my siblings and be a therapist for my parents.
I wasn't allowed to say no or to feel. I was ignored and overlooked because I met their needs and somehow found the energy to meet mine enough to go to college. I was threatened with homelessness if I didn't go to college and I was promised my education would be paid for. Instead, I got into a school and had to take out loans.
I took care of myself as an adult, but my conditioning was such that I jumped to my family's rescue whenever their lives imploded. Family was supposed to look out for each other, and I had the assumption that they would do the same for me in a similar situation.
I never let myself get into that situation. I walked to Coin Star with my change jar to pay for gas money, refusing to need them. I doubted they would come to my rescue, but I didn't want to spend my one rescue on something I could take care of myself.
I struggled independently and found the resources to help my family every time for over a decade of my adult life. I worked and saved and carved out a life for myself.
And then the pandemic started. I got another degree and I was on top of the world for two days before a family emergency called me back to reality. I put my career on hold and suffered a terrible financial loss that same year. But I know my (relative) would be dead right now if it weren't for me.
But then when I asked for time to recover from my own hardships, I was met with the same shaming they always gave me. They asked why I couldn't be financially established not two weeks after getting out of the hospital. Like I wasn't the one taking them to physical therapy. Making office calls. Acting as an unpaid caseworker, nurse, driver, cook, and housekeeper.
I thought this time would be different - I did so much that I thought it was incontrovertible how much I contributed. That I would be allowed the space to breathe for a little bit without the fault-finding coming back in full.
I thought they would see me for the work I did for them. I thought they would treat me with love and acceptance. I thought I would finally be seen.
I'm struggling now to get back to a semblance of where I once was. I'm not living up to my potential. I know that's bullshit phrasing and oversimplifying my situation. But it's hard. I finally went no contact, but it feels like something broke in me.
I tried so hard to be treated with decency by the people who were supposed to love me and I failed. I know they failed me, but I see the effort and energy I put into caring about others at cost to myself and I just can't justify wanting to do anything anymore.
I don't want to try. I can just keep my mask on and work as the world passes me by. I don't see trying as getting me anything I wanted or needed because I can't remember a time where it has.
I know this isn't true, but the feeling is so hard to shake.
I'm getting therapy and I'm finally seeing the extent of the damage done to me before I was old enough to understand, but it's so much. It's just digging and digging and digging until I'm so tired that I forget why I'm even doing it in the first place.
I'm trying so hard to keep going and I only do so because I don't want to make good people sad or bad people happy.
I still try even though the deepest part of me feels like it's pointless. I know it's not pointless, but I just feel pain every time I start to think things could get better.
I just needed to get this out there because I don't have anywhere else to put this, but if this resonates with anyone, how did you get out of this mindset?
Ooof. I was a young lib at that point. I remember voicing my annoyance with Obama failing to get same sex marriage legalized when that was one of his promises. I thought Obama was bad, but I still believed in The Process