My best friend’s 17 year old daughter just got her first car recently. I somehow got talked into going to Jefferson, TX with her. This girl, who I’ll call Jenny, and I worked together in the same restaurant last summer, and actually get along rather well. We both enjoy the same anime cartoon, and find the same things amusing, and we both have a serious weakness for cuppity cakes. Now she is, in many ways, an old soul and a pretty cool chic to sit and talk to. So really, it wasn’t any kind of torture to go spend time with this kid just so her mom could have some peace of mind knowing that an an adult was around if something went wrong with the car or whatever.
We went to Jefferson, TX, which is this little historic town that used to be a major shipping hub in the plantation days, but is now a tourist trap with antique shops and ghost tours and such, along with the occasional four day long biker ralley. Jenny and I wandered into some of the cuter stores and looked at funny teeshirts and weird pocketbooks with pounds and pounds of fake gems pasted on them and looked at all of the historic architecture, and train cars, and such, and had a great time.
As we were wondering around, we wandered into the local drug store. I had never been in there before, and Jenny thought the place was cool. The first thing I noticed was the old timey soda shop inside this drug store. It was OLD, and it brought back memories of my dad taking me to the local drugstore in the town where I grew up and having lunch or ice cream at the soda shop counter there.
It was a powerful wave of childhood memories, and for a moment I wasn’t my 44 year old self. For just one moment, I was a little platinum-haired kid, and I think I actually looked around for my daddy.
Now, rather than make me sad that my daddy died when I was only 14, these memories made me feel so connected to the daddy I lost so long ago. I actually felt the joy of a child as I walked up to the counter and started to read my ice cream options on the wall.
I sometimes think that, as adults, we get so caught up in all of the busy-ness of our lives that we forget that kids are onto something. Kids don’t forget to laugh and play and enjoy the moment. Kids don’t forget to live life.
I think I’ll have to ask my friend if I can borrow Jenny again sometime soon so that we can go back to that drugstore with its soda shop counter and sit down a moment and enjoy life.
I see you, you know. You may think no one really sees you, but I do. I promise. I see all of the things you try to hide. I see your scars. I see it all. You are hurting. So, so much. I know, I get it. But you need to stop hurting yourself. Stop the cutting, stop the drinking, and stop all of the meaningless sex. It is not okay to try and drown your feelings in the bottom of a bottle and it is not okay to cut yourself just to feel alive. I know you want to be numb and I understand, but sex isn’t supposed to leave you numb. It is a beautiful thing, and you will understand what I mean later in life.
Contrary to what you may believe, you are NOT alone. You are loved. People care! Stop drowning yourself in alcohol, stop going to school drunk. Stop taking handfulls of pills. Just STOP!
You are pushing your closest friends away. They don’t want to watch you slowly self destruct anymore.
You are about to make the biggest and greatest mistake in all of your life. It’s dangerous and damn near-deadly, but I won’t stop you. You need this, you’ll see why. Not right away, but you will. I promise.
This guy you’re with? He’s bad. Worse than any of the others. He is going to use, abuse, and destroy you. He will sell you out to push himself ahead in the blink of an eye. This isn’t love and he isn’t worth your tears. We can get through this. Together.
Someday, when you are older, you will thank me for not stopping you from making that mistake. I know you believe in fate, and I am pretty sure this is fate stepping in to make sure you don’t kill yourself (accidentally or on purpose). This is your rock bottom.
I promise you, you will find happiness someday. When you least expect it, it will come.
I promise you, there is a lot of work to be done, so start now!
I am 16 year old girl. I have always wondered if my mom was emotionally abusive. So I need help. Please read my story and tell me whether she really is.
I was at the top of my class until my eighth grade year. As soon as I entered ninth grade, my grades started reducing. I was not failing, but I turned into an average student. I really studied hard to achieve good grades, but my mother never recognized my efforts. She cursed me several times. She said I should have been born with my both of my parents dead.
Whenever I wake up late in the morning, she starts abusing me for not getting up early and studying. She says would not care if I ran away. She often says that if I do not like her, I should just kill her. She says I will never be successful in life and God will punish me for the things I have done to her. She cries in front of me and says that she wishes she was dead. She says I am selfish, and mean, and I like to waste my parents’ money.
I don’t understand why she behaves like this. Once I asked her if I could go to a movie with my friends. She asked if I had lost all my senses, and said that someone will kidnap me if I go. I only ever meet with my friends at school, because she says I have been spoiled.
I guess I have been dealing with this since I was 2 or 3 years old. I have a memory of saying “No one loves me, not my father or mother” when I was that young. When I was 3, she had locked me on the balcony, and I don’t know why. She used to drag me out of the house as a punishment for not doing my homework. She ran after me with poison when I was in the eighth grade. She doesn’t trust me at all. I have a habit of studying until late at night. The next morning, she will always accuse me of surfing the internet instead of studying. She doesn’t respect my privacy she always tries to read my personal messages.
Staying with this woman under the same roof makes me mad. I get no comfort or support from her. When I confront her, she says I am no longer a kid, and she doesn’t need to motivate me or support my goals.
Eating gives me comfort, so I have turned to food. Now I am obese. I suffer from anxiety and fear. I have agoraphobia and am scared to move out of my home. I feel guilty for many things which are not my responsibility. I think I have been totally damaged inside. I have an inferiority complex.
Even though most of the time she is angry, sometimes she makes me feel like she cares about me. Sometimes she talks to me politely.
So what do you all think? Is my mother emotionally abusive? Please help. I am confused and need the emotional support from all of you.
My throat is sore from shouting. I am exhausted. I hate my life.
I never wanted children. My ex did, and as he always gets his way, we had a son and then a daughter. I love my children, but I don’t love being a parent.
I feel robbed of a life and my freedom. My ex loves getting high more than me or our children so I left him. I don’t regret this but I am annoyed as he can now do whatever he wants while I’m stuck here on my own.
I’m constantly dealing with their mess, stopping fights, and thinking of ways I can leave. I’m sick of not being able to do anything or have anything nice because they always destroy it.
I want to enjoy them, I just don’t know how.
I’m told this is my job and I should just accept that it’s not going to be the way I want, but it’s destroying me. I feel guilty for feeling this way, but I’ve been nothing but a full time mum for seven years, and I don’t think I can do much more. I’m selfish. A horrible mother.
Here’s something a lot of people don’t understand or don’t want to understand: you can be in love with two people at the same time. It’s not a crime, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, it just is.
See, I’m in love with you. I’m also in love with my husband, and I know you’re in love with your wife. One of my friends – I tell so few people about this that the ones who know are ones dear to me – said you should be my hall pass, then had to explain that to me. You’re not a celebrity, you’re not a rock star, you’re just you. Talented, funny, and sometimes so serious and awkward that I can’t help loving you.
I get the feeling sometimes that you have some sort of feelings for me too. I certainly know at the very least that you care about me. Whether it’s a favorite on Twitter, a like on Facebook, or just a passing word that you remember where I live when I don’t even remember telling you, you tell me in these little ways that you’re keeping up with me and my life. You were the first to say “Happy Birthday” to me this year, even before my family. You asked me how I was doing when you saw that my marriage was on the rocks. Like I said, I know you care. I just don’t know how much.
My husband thinks this is hilarious. Hell, he encourages it. He says things like “what if he likes you?” in a tone of voice you usually only hear from one middle-schooler to another. He knows how much I love you and he accepts it. It’s one of the reasons I love him so much.
I never want to lose my husband like I would never want you to lose your wife. But I can’t stop loving you and I can never, ever tell you how I feel. We’re friends and I wouldn’t want to lose that, but sometimes when we talk all I can think about is what it would be like to kiss you. When you hug me I want it to go on forever. And when you stand beside me I wonder if anyone would ever think I was your girlfriend.
Sometimes I cry because I have these feelings for you, this need to be with you and hear your voice and see you smile. I want to talk to you, to email or text you just to say hi so we don’t break our connection, but I’m afraid you’ll think I’m overbearing. If I ever held your hand I would probably just burst into tears. It’s like a sappy romantic comedy, only one-sided. You’re near me but just far enough away that I would never be able to reach you.
You toss around “love you” like it’s nothing, not knowing what it means to me. It drives me crazy but I never want it to end. I never want this feeling to end.
