I’ve notice how people like things that hurt them. More particularly people that hurt them. One of C’s friends is a teacher and one of her kids is pretty much malnourished because his Mom can’t afford to keep him and his two brothers fed all the time but they are completely loyal to her. I don’t know exactly what the situation was, maybe drugs and/or running from an abusive partner.
But I’ve noticed it a lot. I harbor a lot of resentment towards my parents but I’ve always had plenty of food, clothes, school supplies, ect. They pay for very nice doctors and a very nice therapist but I just don’t feel the love. Mom says they love me but I just don’t feel it. I came clean to her about a little of what I felt growing up (I always felt like my dad really wanted a son and that he wanted me to kill myself because I was a waste of resources).
The thing is I’ve felt that way as long as I can remember. Am I mad at them because they love me?
From this story, I can see why you might not feel the love. Not necessarily that your parents didn’t love you (and I really doubt your dad wanted you to kill yourself) but that they didn’t show you in a way you understood. That your mom laughed when you told her about this makes me think that either she doesn’t realize how serious you are when you try to tell her things that are important to you, or that she doesn’t know how to respond to those things appropriately. Either one of those things would, after a time, make you feel devalued and ignored.
I had similar feelings growing up - my mom was a single mom who had been through some awful things and didn’t have time to constantly soothe a somewhat hysterical child. My dad was great and engaged when I got to see him, until he married a woman who wanted all traces of his old family eliminated from their lives. He was never very strong of character, and the way he betrayed us to please her was devastating. I always felt like my presence anywhere was irritating and unwanted.
This made it hard for me in friendships and relationships, too - I became addicted to reaction and affirmation. I would do terrible things to get people to show me that they cared. It didn’t matter what they did to tell me or show me, it was never ever enough. And just like any misbehaving child or dog knows, negative attention was better than no attention at all.
I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. I hope you can look at it honestly, understand what things made you draw the conclusions you have about what love looks like and how worthy you are of it, and learn to recognize your non-reality-based reactions. (I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to accuse you of these things, this just seems to me to be what you’re talking about lately. I might be projecting, because I feel like I see a lot of myself in you.)
You are so sweet. A hug for you. We used to live on a horse ranch (I guess you would call it that) and we had baby chicks every spring and they are about the cutest hug I could think of to give you back.
I’m exactly like that except I’m very finicky. I have perfectionist tendencies so not only do I want to be perfect I want to elicit perfect reactions from everyone. Everyone has to be perfectly happy with me or I’m not happy. Think mom (if your mom resembles my mom in this way) about to cry because she just wanted a perfect Christmas where everyone was happy but we’re all squabbling away (because we’re human). There’s also over 40 of us so there is no such thing as harmony.
I’m a terrible gift giver. If I bring you something at some point it means I like you and crave your approval. I continually do it even if I know that person loves me (like with C). But if I don’t give you gifts it means you can pretty much go die for all I care. It might have had something to do with the reward system my parents used when I was little. If I didn’t get the prize or gift (excepting things like birthdays and Christmas of course where getting a treat doesn’t reflect on who I am as a person) I felt like I was a bad person because I didn’t do well enough to get the treat when I didn’t do everything perfectly.
I get so excited for the holiday season because people think you’re weird when you bring them tons of stuff. I have to find just the right thing for everyone and I take extreme joy in doing it. I like to think that the gift giving with C balances out the bipolar crankies I get sometimes. Part of it with him is I do crave his love and approval in a way that he can never express due to human limitations and the other part is I have done a lot of things to him that I’m not proud of. Granted I was so off my head depressed, psychotic, and unsocialized to the point where I didn’t realize what I was doing was wrong or hurtful, but I still do things like that sometimes.
I also feel like when people reject my gifts they are rejecting me.
My sister is a complete cxxx though who still manipulates and steals from my parents so I guess that would be like what happened with your Mom in a way. She didn’t care that I was sick, it had to be all about her and I was willing to give everything for her. My view has always been family comes first and that might be how I got myself into this. I’m intensely loyal to all of them. I just see how quickly people go through friends and I wonder how they can say ‘my friends are my family’. Your friends didn’t wipe your butt when you pooped on yourself or smile because you puked on them in the cutest way. (I know not all vomit is cute but I imagine it would be like changing your first diaper when it happens the first time, adorable till they do it again two seconds later). Abusive families obviously excluded from that.
I’m glad I remind you of you Rhubot. Sometimes I feel like I’m going insane other time I feel like I’m not symptomatic enough to really be called sz. I’m almost always symptomatic enough to feel like I have the right to be called bipolar though. I’m getting sappy here but this has been (strangely) a good day. I saw my pdoc, my therapist (they always calm me down and I got a new med to try out), I had a good run, and now I’m learning I’m not a freak . Well I am. I’m learning that I’m not a weird freak if that makes any sense.
you need a 
hug for you. We used to live on a horse ranch (I guess you would call it that) and we had baby chicks every spring and they are about the cutest hug I could think of to give you back.
. Well I am. I’m learning that I’m not a weird freak if that makes any sense.
(but, at least I found an emoticon…)