Just being here has been a challenge for me.
About 10 years ago my mother flipped out on me and told me had it not been illegal she would have aborted me. Then she got mad at me for getting upset and told me I needed to stop being so sensitive. She was married, just didn’t want kids.
I hated her for a long time, she stopped being my mother and became the bitch who gave birth to me because she had no other choice.
I stopped going to family functions because I felt like I’m not supposed to be here. I wondered how many of my extended family members knew she didn’t want me.
On the plus side, it made me realize that all the guilt she had heaped on me over the years for ruining her life was not my guilt to carry.
I don’t hate her anymore, if anything I feel sorry for her. She didn’t have the best parents, her father denied she was his and my grandmother left her and her brothers with my great grandparents. I found out later than my grandmother had tried to abort her and I don’t know who thought that would be a good piece of information to share. Probably my selfish grandmother told her herself. My mother says it’s no big deal, I don’t know how it could not hurt to know your mother tried to abort you.
So I still have to fight feeling guilty for things that aren’t my fault, and I still sometimes feel like I’m not supposed to be here. I have a hard time standing up for myself in relationships (because I feel undeserving) and I don’t trust nice people (my mother is very nice, everyone loves her because she is so nice, all I have ever heard my whole life is how nice she is and how I am so lucky to have such a nice mother).
When I got pregnant my mother (and sister) rode my ass to get an abortion. They both rode my nieces ass to get an abortion as well. They both went on and on about how kids ruin your life. My mother thinks the worst day of any womans life is finding out she is pregnant.
Now my mother has found religion and talks about the evils of abortion. She also talks about how my son is the light of her life.
It’s a real battle to keep from slapping her.
Give me her address, I’ll slap her for you! :mad: My mother didn’t want kids, either, and she and my father were emotionally piss poor parents. Young people were exhorted to not get married, to go out and have fun and pursue their dreams, to not have kids because they dragged you down and you would be nothing more than a donkey tied to a wheel. Any pregnant women were regarded with pity - “they’ll see. they’re happy - now. they’ll find out what having a baby is like.” Eh, it was just her outlook, and it was different times, too. And yes, she also was just the “nicest” most fun person you could imagine!!! …(sorry for the sidetrack, but dang, it’s fun to whine on the awful parents sometimes :p.)
I know my mother was a product of the times and the environment.
I think having a kid was the best thing in the world. He did turn my life upside down but I have never regretted it for one minute and I sure don’t blame him for anything.
Having him also helped me put a lot of things in perspective. My mother made me feel like I was the worst child in the world because I colored on the wall when I was two. Now I know it wasn’t being bad, it was being two.
I cringe though, wondering what kind of crappy things my son will one day say about me.
Loneliness. I used to have issues with anxiety but thank God, that’s a thing of the past now. Right now I’m in a situation where I am missing somebody very much and my days are often a test of endurance. I try to keep busy and surround myself with friends and family, but there’s not a day that goes by that I’m not wishing for what I can’t have. I am seeing a therapist and am being encouraged to give myself what I’m missing; for example, love, friendship, positive feedback. How the heck am I supposed to do that? Even if I do figure it out, it’s just not the same and never will be.
Inertia. Often times I get bored and instead of getting up and doing something about it, for some reason I stay where I am and continue to be uncomfortable. Not sure why that is, just a bad habit I guess.
Family… my mom and sis are very close and I always feel left out. Problem is, they know it and still don’t include me. That hurts.
My daughter has moved out of state and is doing well now which I’m thankful for every day. However, the house is like a tomb without her here. There are times I feel as if I’ve been buried alive or something.
My son will graduate next year and when he leaves it will suck. Empty nest sounded great when the kids were little and things were chaotic but now I’m not looking forward to it at all.
Mine is probably feeling left out. When I was in school, I did sort of belong to a group, but I was more like on the edge of it, not ever fully accepted. Now, at work, in my neighborhood, in my family, and even here, I never feel like I’m really part of any clique. I almost don’t really belong. Even though I know logically that I do, I don’t feel that way. I don’t know if it’s because I’m introverted, or I never got over not fitting in at school, or what. I’m always surprised when other Dopers send me PMs or publicly acknowledge me like I really belong here, even though I’ve been here for 9 years.
Several years ago, I would have said that my ongoing battle was depression, introversion, and shyness.
These days… I feel like these have all been mitigated for the most part because of my life with my partner and children. Essentially, my family brings me outside of myself and I simply don’t have time to navel gaze like I used to. For me, that is the main medicine for my depression. I am out and about. And because my partner is quite social, I am sort of by default more social too. Being social, and therefore less shy, is getting easier simply by virtue of practice. Some days it’s exhausting for this introvert to be social… but a heck of a lot less exhausting than depression, so it seems like a good tradeoff.
My battles now – although they are not nearly the same degree of battles – are getting enough sleep and getting some alone time. Somewhere I am sure there is an optimum balance. That’s still a work in progress. But as the kids get older, I see a light at the end of the sleepless tunnel.
Don’t we all have many ongoing battles? Isn’t that kind of the natural condition of life? If you didn’t have ongoing battles, what the hell would you be DOING?
Edit window ran out, so I’ll enumerate the battles I’m fighting on this post:
Obesity (and my legs are very swollen, so I just started taking Lasix for water retention)
Chronic low self-esteem. I know I’m smart, but I’ve always felt inferior somehow, and not quite worthy of respect. I’m not fishing for hugs here, it’s just how I truly feel.
I’ve never felt good enough to have lasting friendships, or a good relationship. When I do hang out in groups, I’m always on the edges. I was married for several years, but I guess I couldn’t make it last. To this day, I haven’t dated since my ex left. There were a couple flings at cons, but nothing intended to last. The men I meet are all either attached or too young for me. So here I am, forever alone. (if I knew how to add the drawing of the “forever alone” face, I’d add it here)
For the past couple of years, Ive also been suffering from depression. I took Prozac for a year, but I quit gradually in June, thinking I didn’t need pills to feel better. Now it’s September and I’m wondering if I shouldn’t start again. I’d talk to my doctor, but he’s an old-fashioned type who doesn’t believe in antidepressants, and anyway he’s not the one who prescribed the Prozac in the first place (I stopped seeing that doctor months ago). So now I’m feeling lethargic, sad, and unworthy once again. I wish I had energy like I used to.
Oh goddamnit. YOU NEED A NEW DOCTOR.
Doctors that eschew proven treatments for illnesses because they have some weird hardon for morality or conservativeism, or WHATEVER THE FUCK is in their headspace just piss me off so much. It’s bad enough that there’s a stigma attached to having something wrong with your brain, which is just another organ, that there isn’t with any other organ in the body. If you broke your leg, or got cancer, or had a heart attack, no problem with using everything in the arsenal to fix that, but something wrong with your brain? You just made it up, there’s nothing wrong with you, just smile, you’ll feel better…blah blah blah ad nauseum. I’d seriously go to some woo practitioner before I let some judgemental asshole with a stick up his ass and an agenda to enforce tell me anything about how the body works. Their mindset ruins any credibility they might have had when they withhold treatment. Fuck those guys. Go get a new doctor, Lucky 13. I hope you get better. You can.
Aww, I love seeing people come together like this. It’s nice to not have to struggle alone. My battle is very specific, and I haven’t seen anyone else mention it yet, but I’ll post it just in case someone can relate.
My mother got breast cancer in her fifties. She died without ever being diagnosed or getting medical treatment, because it was against her religion.
I know that breast cancer can be genetic, and I am terrified of one day discovering it myself. I’m terrified partly because I know there’s a small change I’ll die from it. But the real terror is that I’ll survive, and it’ll almost be like proof to me that my mom died from something that she probably didn’t need to die from (because most people who contract breast cancer survive it).
Perhaps even more frightening is that I have a younger sister who is still in that religion. I know there’s a real possibility that she could contract the disease, and unless she converts, there’s a substantial possibility it could kill her in the same way it killed my mother.
Oh my God. I thought I was the only one. I’m so sorry, for both of us.
One of the things that makes me happiest (note: I’m rarely actually happy) is taking a nap with my cat. Sometimes he puts his paw in my hand.
I have bipolar and ADD, so every day is unpredictable. I had a pretty good day today, didn’t even have to take a nap. Then in the evening I crashed and started thinking about stabbing myself in the wrist again. Yes, this is a recurring thought with me.
Another battle is with my writing. I want to write, but I’m afraid to write. I’m afraid to put in effort, and then have little to show for it. My energy is still pretty limited (though it is getting better with the CPAP) so I view any missteps as a huge waste of time and effort. When it’s actually not that big a deal. Just like unraveling a crochet project, you know, and starting over better? But I can’t get myself to believe that.
Also fighting with my body nowadays. Found out recently I’m pre-diabetic. Had my first bout of neuropathy in my right foot the other night. It didn’t last long, but it scared the crap out of me. My mom has neuropathy really bad so I knew what it was pretty quickly.
I made sure I got off on the right foot with my new job. I am super pleasant, showed up for every call in and did anything they asked me to. In turn, they shit on me - no hours, no decent job assignments. Sometimes I think that if you’re a pleasant person, it’s perceived that you are a doormat and you never get angry. Everyone has their tipping point. Mine just takes longer.
That I’ll never do anything significant enough to be remembered to the world at large. That some days, my life feels like a joke.
Dysthymia and anxiety. It’s a constant battle. I’m friendly but don’t make friends easily, I’m guarded but don’t know how NOT to be. Constant state of vigilance. I feel like I live in constant fear… of what? Not sure. I have desperately low self-esteem and spend a lot of time hating myself from the inside out. Good times! My family keeps me going, they are the true loves of my life.
