Tumgik
leichtfeuer 3 months
Text
My dad seeked contact again. He recently retired early because of his mental health. I almost died of laughter.
You did a great job at passing on the generational trauma!
1 note View note
leichtfeuer 3 months
Text
I dreamed of someone hunting me, and when she catched me, she killed me, and I was just like:
"What a relief, finally I can stop waiting for it to happen."
This is also how I see my abuser.
0 notes
leichtfeuer 3 months
Text
My mom this weekend: "Oh, I have to accept that my child will be ill for the rest of her life."
Choke on your generosity, abuser!
0 notes
leichtfeuer 5 months
Text
My mom looking through old stuff:
"Oh, I will gift this to my grandchildren" *looks at me*
Mam, since I was 11 I told you that I don't ever want to have kids, where you think will grandchildren suddenly come from?
4 notes View notes
leichtfeuer 5 months
Text
Why is healing so hard? Why does it take so long? I am trying for so many years and I am still not okay...
2 notes View notes
leichtfeuer 5 months
Text
That therapist asked me if I drank, used drugs or had too much sex and I thought, I must be the most boring patient ever.
The only coping mechanism I have is dissociation.
2 notes View notes
leichtfeuer 6 months
Text
One thing I'll never understand is that I have to call a therapist to get therapy for my social anxiety. Seems pretty unprofessional tbh.
0 notes
leichtfeuer 8 months
Text
I feel like such a loser, figuring out, piece by piece, what other people know by default. It's an automatism for them, and I have to overwork every cog.
30 notes View notes
leichtfeuer 1 year
Text
At one point I realized, that every female patient I met in psychiatry, was diagnosed with BPD. Even my 11 year old roommate, who was admitted because of her anorexia. I think, the doctors were just too lazy to make a real diagnosis.
1 note View note
leichtfeuer 1 year
Text
My report from the psychiatry I was in when I was 13 said "uncooperative" and that really hurt. I wasn't uncooperative, this would've required an active decision. I was depressed and suicidal and just tried to make it through the day. I did my best and realized, my best wasn't much, and I still continued. I tried to please everyone and knew I failed miserably.
And they called it "uncooperative"
3 notes View notes
leichtfeuer 1 year
Text
My mom failed her first highschool graduation attempt, graduated a year later, and started working afterwards. And my dad would do the most "my dad" thing, and tell his family that "She only did the graduation-year a second time because the first time her grades weren't soo great and she wanted to have better ones to visit a good college".
2 notes View notes
leichtfeuer 1 year
Text
All my childhood I wanted to go horseriding. My parents never allowed it because they thought it was just a phase and it was too expensive for a phase.
After my parents seperated, and my mom couldn't find a job, after being a SAHM for 8 years, my dad didn't pay alimony. We had no money, we usually didn't even have food at home.
This is where our story begins:
I was around 9 and my dad "wanted to do me a favor". We visited all riding school in our vicinity (a lot) and checked them out, if we liked them, asked for the prices and petted a lot of horses. It was an awesome weekend and I expected that he would pay for lessons for me after we decide for a school. Since he had a well-paid job and didn't spend any of that on his ex wife or child.
At the end of the weekend, he handed me all the price-flyers from all schools and said "Give them to your mom. She has enough money to pay for it!!"
I felt so betrayed, I knew how poor we were, that we barely had two meals a day, because he didn't pay was he was supposed to. I knew that all of this was a farce, a play to hurt my mom through me. I knew all of that the second he handed me the flyers.
I knew what kind of a man he was, after this day.
1 note View note
leichtfeuer 1 year
Text
I really don't know if I disliked staying with my dad so much because he was creepy or because I was so codependent with my mom.
1 note View note
leichtfeuer 1 year
Text
After my parents seperated, my dad, unintentionally, moved only a few streets from our new home.
I visited him every weekend. And one time I started to panic. I really didn't, didn't, didn't want to sleep at his house. I wanted to go back home, to my mom. I begged him to let me leave in the evening and come back the next morning.
His respond was, that he locked me in and went to his neighbor/friend for help. She came to me and told me how ungrateful I was, that I was a piece of shit and my dad deserved better and I should just stop.
But when they saw that I didn't change my mind, they unlocked the door and I ran home.
I was 8.
0 notes
leichtfeuer 1 year
Text
My mom yelled for me and immediately tears started running down my face.
0 notes
leichtfeuer 1 year
Text
I don't have enough friends to rant as much as I need
1 note View note
leichtfeuer 1 year
Text
When I was 11, two years before I was diagnosed with depression, I was laying in bed, crying. And my mom, with whose bedroom I shared a wall, beat against said wall and yelled "Stop crying! You have no reason to cry!!"
5 notes View notes