On the subject of overbearing parents
Dec 26, 2015 19:10:24 GMT
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Post by aj on Dec 26, 2015 19:10:24 GMT
I realise that my first introduction to this site is through a rant. I also freely admit that the only reason I'm here is because I typed 'ADHD rant' into Google, and not because I have anything that's particularly inspiring to say.
I am also very aware that it's Boxing Day, and I'm sitting in my room trying very hard not to cry. Sadly this has become a more regular occurrence than I would like to admit. I'm here because, as always, things have gotten a little out of hand. People don't tend to peg me as someone who is the type to have ADHD. To me that sounds particularly stupid, but I suppose I can understand why the less informed might think that. On top of having ADHD, I am quite strongly introverted. This is quite an interesting combination when you live underneath a highly OCD, highly extroverted, highly outspoken stepmother. We normally get on fairly well. I have perfected the art of knowing when she requires me to give some kind of positive feedback to sate her insecurities.
I feel at this point I should clarify that I am an adult by law, yet still in the middle of a long string of important exams.
The topic of the day was those very exams. Mainly how much revision I have been doing. I will freely admit that last year's results were disappointing to me. As a particularly bright child when I was young, my ADHD wasn't immediately obvious and until fairly recently I have been a straight A student. For my grades, my teachers were willing to continually overlook my inattention and constant hyperactivity, adding a little smile at the end of their reports and saying they didn't mind as long as I continued to preform.
As you might have guessed by now, this is no longer the case.
Like most other ADHDers, I have always struggled to concentrate on anything that doesn't give me instant results. As a child my natural ability to pick up new concepts very quickly and to retain useful information in my long term memory meant that I found little to no use for revision at all. So not only am I unable to bear sitting and staring at half-assed notes for more than about two minutes at a time, some arrogant little shit part of me insists that I don't need to revise anyway.
This is not generally a combination that results in a lot of work being done. Even after the disappointment of last year, I just can't bring myself to study at the level that my stepmother wants from me. Don't get me wrong here. I try. I really do. But her idea of a working study environment is an empty room with a pad of A4, a set of gel pens and a study guide. I don't know how many times I've tried to explain to her that I can't stand it. That I need SOMETHING. Hell, even just some music in the background. It doesn't have to be loud or exciting, but just something to fill the silence with.
But shy little introverted me can't express that need in a way that makes sense to loud, overbearing her. Each time I try I just end up hurt, or angry, or both at the same time because she just doesn't listen. My father is no help at all. He's almost as introverted as I am, just with less of a spine.
She seems to think that when I retreat to my room to be alone, I'm doing it to spite her. That it's a personal attack on her way of doing things. What makes me so angry is that it's such a trivial thing to fall out over, but somehow me getting upset isn't her fault. It's mine for being selfish, overdramatic, and insensitive towards HER feelings.
We have these arguments semi-regularly. It's not always about exam results, but lately that seems to be a recurring theme. Whenever I find myself arguing with her, I'm always trying so very hard NOT to start an argument that I often say exactly the wrong thing and end up getting yelled at for being 'too indecisive'. But the problem is that when I finally lose it and start yelling right back, not only has poor introverted me gotten far too worked up to string proper sentences together, but now my father is on my back for making his wife feel awful.
What about your daughter, dad? You know? Your kid? The one that's upset on a regular basis because your wife doesn't seem to appreciate that 'different' is not the same as 'wrong'? Do you remember her?
Maybe that's not entirely fair. He does try, but like me he tries to avoid conflict at all costs. Like me, he has also perfected the art of lip service, but as an adult he is spared some of the ridiculous rules I get forced to live by.
I don't know how on earth he manages to cope with being married to someone so naturally neurotic, but somehow they've managed not to divorce each other over the past ten years.
I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again to make a point. I am an introvert. I don't generally make a song and dance about things that upset me. If someone makes a homophobic comment around me- whether they were aware of my sexuality or not- I bite my tongue rather than call them out, because it's not who I am. The stepmonster likes to call me out on every little thing I do that gets in the way of her routine.
I left the lights on in the bathroom. I forgot my boots were muddy and made the tiniest of marks on the carpet. I'm still awake at midnight- for fuck's sake, I'm an adult living with insomnia, and I average about three hours sleep per night. I didn't clear up my breakfast things sufficiently fast enough and now I'm lazy as well as a slob. Who cares if I had only just managed to shove the last spoonful into my mouth whilst simultaneously trying to brush/blow dry my hair? It wasn't instant so it wasn't acceptable.
Sure, I'm not the tidiest of people. I don't dust my bookcases every two hours like a housewife on speed. There's usually a mug on my bedside table from the night before, and the odd bra can be left draped over a chair. But it's my personal space, and it's constantly invaded by a whirlwind of barely noticeable insults and a constant stream of negativity, usually followed by the smell of disinfectant.
I consider myself an understanding person. I might not always agree with someone, but I won't criticise their beliefs because they're not the same as my own.
And I have tried. I have tried so hard to understand. To tell myself that my stepmother has been diagnosed with OCD and that I shouldn't take it so personally when she constantly critisises everything I do. She can't always help it and I know that. She probably feels the same way as I do when I've forgotten to hand in that cheque for the sixth time in a row.
But I can't. I have lived with her bringing me down for eleven years, and I can't cope. This retreating to my room and crying really quietly thing is happening far too often, and no matter how much I try, nothing changes. Sure, it changes for a week or so and every time it does I convince myself that THIS will be the time. That it'll stick this time and we can all be a happy family and that all of the bad stuff can be forgotten.
Well, half of my wish comes true anyway. The incident is forgotten for her the very next day, whereas I am constantly left upset days, sometimes weeks later. I learnt the hard way not to bring it up afterwards. Apparently I'm being a selfish little shit holding onto petty grudges and making everyone else feel bad.
I'm so very sorry that you upsetting me makes you feel guilty. Shall I send you flowers? A box of chocolates so you feel better? That courtesy is never afforded to me, so why should I make the effort?
Honestly I think the real problem is that I get so upset by the littlest of things, and not liking to make a fuss I keep it all locked away inside. When I finally get to the point that I'm ready to shout and scream, I can't express what it is that upset me in the first place. Until this changes, I can't get anywhere, but it won't ever change. It's just part of who I am. So I guess I'm just stuck with it until I either break the bitch's nose or move out. Whichever comes first.
I am also very aware that it's Boxing Day, and I'm sitting in my room trying very hard not to cry. Sadly this has become a more regular occurrence than I would like to admit. I'm here because, as always, things have gotten a little out of hand. People don't tend to peg me as someone who is the type to have ADHD. To me that sounds particularly stupid, but I suppose I can understand why the less informed might think that. On top of having ADHD, I am quite strongly introverted. This is quite an interesting combination when you live underneath a highly OCD, highly extroverted, highly outspoken stepmother. We normally get on fairly well. I have perfected the art of knowing when she requires me to give some kind of positive feedback to sate her insecurities.
I feel at this point I should clarify that I am an adult by law, yet still in the middle of a long string of important exams.
The topic of the day was those very exams. Mainly how much revision I have been doing. I will freely admit that last year's results were disappointing to me. As a particularly bright child when I was young, my ADHD wasn't immediately obvious and until fairly recently I have been a straight A student. For my grades, my teachers were willing to continually overlook my inattention and constant hyperactivity, adding a little smile at the end of their reports and saying they didn't mind as long as I continued to preform.
As you might have guessed by now, this is no longer the case.
Like most other ADHDers, I have always struggled to concentrate on anything that doesn't give me instant results. As a child my natural ability to pick up new concepts very quickly and to retain useful information in my long term memory meant that I found little to no use for revision at all. So not only am I unable to bear sitting and staring at half-assed notes for more than about two minutes at a time, some arrogant little shit part of me insists that I don't need to revise anyway.
This is not generally a combination that results in a lot of work being done. Even after the disappointment of last year, I just can't bring myself to study at the level that my stepmother wants from me. Don't get me wrong here. I try. I really do. But her idea of a working study environment is an empty room with a pad of A4, a set of gel pens and a study guide. I don't know how many times I've tried to explain to her that I can't stand it. That I need SOMETHING. Hell, even just some music in the background. It doesn't have to be loud or exciting, but just something to fill the silence with.
But shy little introverted me can't express that need in a way that makes sense to loud, overbearing her. Each time I try I just end up hurt, or angry, or both at the same time because she just doesn't listen. My father is no help at all. He's almost as introverted as I am, just with less of a spine.
She seems to think that when I retreat to my room to be alone, I'm doing it to spite her. That it's a personal attack on her way of doing things. What makes me so angry is that it's such a trivial thing to fall out over, but somehow me getting upset isn't her fault. It's mine for being selfish, overdramatic, and insensitive towards HER feelings.
We have these arguments semi-regularly. It's not always about exam results, but lately that seems to be a recurring theme. Whenever I find myself arguing with her, I'm always trying so very hard NOT to start an argument that I often say exactly the wrong thing and end up getting yelled at for being 'too indecisive'. But the problem is that when I finally lose it and start yelling right back, not only has poor introverted me gotten far too worked up to string proper sentences together, but now my father is on my back for making his wife feel awful.
What about your daughter, dad? You know? Your kid? The one that's upset on a regular basis because your wife doesn't seem to appreciate that 'different' is not the same as 'wrong'? Do you remember her?
Maybe that's not entirely fair. He does try, but like me he tries to avoid conflict at all costs. Like me, he has also perfected the art of lip service, but as an adult he is spared some of the ridiculous rules I get forced to live by.
I don't know how on earth he manages to cope with being married to someone so naturally neurotic, but somehow they've managed not to divorce each other over the past ten years.
I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again to make a point. I am an introvert. I don't generally make a song and dance about things that upset me. If someone makes a homophobic comment around me- whether they were aware of my sexuality or not- I bite my tongue rather than call them out, because it's not who I am. The stepmonster likes to call me out on every little thing I do that gets in the way of her routine.
I left the lights on in the bathroom. I forgot my boots were muddy and made the tiniest of marks on the carpet. I'm still awake at midnight- for fuck's sake, I'm an adult living with insomnia, and I average about three hours sleep per night. I didn't clear up my breakfast things sufficiently fast enough and now I'm lazy as well as a slob. Who cares if I had only just managed to shove the last spoonful into my mouth whilst simultaneously trying to brush/blow dry my hair? It wasn't instant so it wasn't acceptable.
Sure, I'm not the tidiest of people. I don't dust my bookcases every two hours like a housewife on speed. There's usually a mug on my bedside table from the night before, and the odd bra can be left draped over a chair. But it's my personal space, and it's constantly invaded by a whirlwind of barely noticeable insults and a constant stream of negativity, usually followed by the smell of disinfectant.
I consider myself an understanding person. I might not always agree with someone, but I won't criticise their beliefs because they're not the same as my own.
And I have tried. I have tried so hard to understand. To tell myself that my stepmother has been diagnosed with OCD and that I shouldn't take it so personally when she constantly critisises everything I do. She can't always help it and I know that. She probably feels the same way as I do when I've forgotten to hand in that cheque for the sixth time in a row.
But I can't. I have lived with her bringing me down for eleven years, and I can't cope. This retreating to my room and crying really quietly thing is happening far too often, and no matter how much I try, nothing changes. Sure, it changes for a week or so and every time it does I convince myself that THIS will be the time. That it'll stick this time and we can all be a happy family and that all of the bad stuff can be forgotten.
Well, half of my wish comes true anyway. The incident is forgotten for her the very next day, whereas I am constantly left upset days, sometimes weeks later. I learnt the hard way not to bring it up afterwards. Apparently I'm being a selfish little shit holding onto petty grudges and making everyone else feel bad.
I'm so very sorry that you upsetting me makes you feel guilty. Shall I send you flowers? A box of chocolates so you feel better? That courtesy is never afforded to me, so why should I make the effort?
Honestly I think the real problem is that I get so upset by the littlest of things, and not liking to make a fuss I keep it all locked away inside. When I finally get to the point that I'm ready to shout and scream, I can't express what it is that upset me in the first place. Until this changes, I can't get anywhere, but it won't ever change. It's just part of who I am. So I guess I'm just stuck with it until I either break the bitch's nose or move out. Whichever comes first.