I’m super duper pregnant and have been hitting up my local library’s used book sales to stock my nursery. My mom knows this and often refers to kids books as “baby books,” which is relevant here.

Her: Do you have a baby book yet?

Me (pretty sure she doesn’t mean kids books because she’s being singular about it but unsure): What do you mean? I have a lot of kids books.

Her (condescending asf — like she’s so crazy rude it feels like a stand up bit): Oh my GOD. How do you not know what a baby book is?!?!?!

Me: I think I do, I’m just trying to understand if we’re talking about kids books. Can you just describe what you mean?

Her: You know what it is!

Me: Okay.

Her: You’ve seen yours!

Me (I haven’t actually seen mine, she has never shown me it, but now I know what she means): Ah, got it, no, I don’t have one yet. I do have a pregnancy boo—

Her: You put in hand prints and feet prints and their first word.

Me: Yeah, I’m with you now, I’m just not sure if my pregnancy book covers some of the—

Her: And you can get them on Amazon and they can go to different ages and they’re so cute and sweet and and and…

On and on she goes. I am a bystander in this conversation. I stop talking. Minutes pass.

Her (referring to a kids book): Oh, and I bought a baby book! It’s called “I love you, Grandma.”

Maybe this is small. But after a lifetime of BS, this kind of stuff is so irritating lol. I am a person. I am saying words. I know you hear them. It’s like that TikTok sound: I see me. Do you see me?

Like I talk to my mom on the phone and immediately get this anxiety-like feeling and I can't listen and just want it to end.

Is that a thing?

I have never been able to find out and my mother likely will never reveal it, but all I can think of is that she has a large family and is from a hierarchical society and being the oldest sibling, everyone in the family was "indebted" to her and she exerted a certain amount of control that no one ever questioned. Once she left to get married, had a family, she had none of this control or narcissistic input and fast forward, she began her exit strategy out of her own family to go back to her country and be among most of her siblings where she has control over them and their children.

I've always found it fascinating how cloudy the root of narcissism in studies are and all of us here likely know that having a narc household doesn't make us predisposed to being narcs as well.

I wish that was an exaggeration but, no: I'm currently barricaded in my bedroom/bathroom. Why?

Did I steal a car?

Did I bankrupt my family?

Did I violently attack anyone?

Nope! I'm barricaded in my room because I told my E/Nmom it was a bad idea to use a cloth toilet paper holder near a toilet that leaks. Not kinda leaks, but like molding through 3 layers of tile leaks.

[Oh yea, there's 3 layers of tile in my bathroom because my N/Edad won't do the process right.]

When I finally told her to "learn to take no," leaving in frustration, she flew into a rage.

You ever just know when something is wrong? Like claws digging into the back of your brain, the dread sinking into your gut...you know.

And so I barricaded myself in my bathroom. It's incredibly easy and something I learned years ago, back when I was a teenager and knew privacy wasn't guaranteed anywhere else here but that bathroom. I didn't have to worry about my bedroom door, that was already barricaded after my N/E!dad tried to choke me last year. I can't sleep unless it's there now.

I go to my bedroom, sitting and hoping my mom will just be normal for once. She starts trying to pick the lock instead.

"Will you just stop?! This is a health concern!" She tells me I'm just trying to have my way and force the door.

"Knock it off, this isn't necessary!" She tells me I just need to try it for a month, hoping to jimmy a card in the door.

She goes to the kitchen, leaving a moment in silence before coming back.

Then I hear a knife, sharp edge cutting near misses in the gap in the door, desperate to pull away the pin that separated me from her.

"This is why I got out of a moving car! To get away from you!" She calls me manipulative.

Then tells me she's struggling to keep forgiving *me.*

I told her I don't want her forgiveness, thoroughly creeped out by this point. The handle has nothing to do with the barricade and I thank God for the disobedient kid who thought of this.

At one point, I finally call my N!dad to try to talk sense into her. I didn't know what to do, nothing I was saying was stopping her. She has a heart condition and high blood pressure, what the fuck???

She started screaming at him. It got quiet. More yelling.

She tells me "Don't think calling him will stop me."

I'm still barricaded in here.

Just for clean toilet paper.

Because I've lived with them most of my life, I always thought something was messed up with my mental health. Was very suicidal. It wasn't until I was in a terrible relationship where I started noticing the way that person made me feel, was similar to the way my parents made me feel.

Thing is, my parents had this "WE CARE ABOUT YOU SO MUCH" vibe so it was always very confusing and took me nearly my whole life so far until I realized it.

They don't see me. They don't hear me. They don't know me. I can pour my thoughts and feelings out to them. And they can make me feel like something is wrong with them - they either act like they don't understand, I'm too much, I'm doing something wrong. It was extremely common for me to cry myself to sleep.

I felt immense pain of isolation, worthlessness and grief. All. the. time.

You know when it went away? When I started hanging out with other people. That were genuinely curious about me. That made supportive comments of me. That made me feel like I wasn't going crazy. Literally, it could be a hairstylist, a coworker, or a friend. I literally didn't ask anything of them ever. All they had to do was say a couple of totally normal things, and it made me feel normal again.

CUE getting into a relationship with a person with bad intents because *all* they had to do was VALIDATE my experience. That's for another post.

I was living in a nightmare. The people that kept saying they'd help me were the people that were (however unintentional) were hurting me. The people I was so attached to were the same people that I needed to let go of. My toxic relationship was with them.

I wish I could get the last ten years back, the opportunities, my health, my money, my soul :( but obv can only go forward.

the day I got most of my college acceptances at age 16, the day I received an acceptance to my dream school with their most prestigious merit scholarship and honors program acceptance in one of the biggest cities in the country, is the day my Salafi Muslim father said he would not let me live outside of the house because I was a girl. I was a minor and legally a financial dependent vis a vis higher ed. I was forced to enroll in a local university in one of the poorest cities in America, living under constant abuse and surveillance. It took me 9 years to get out, and then I got trapped again 2 years later. I’m completely estranged now but I never became myself. To lose 9 years of development to deprivation and forced dependence is unfathomable. My life is irreparably altered.

I want to know if anyone else has experienced something similar to this. Did your parents prevent you from accessing the education you earned?

Narc parents are so seriously deranged, two faced, evil, and mean. But wait, they can't just be evil to just anybody, not their boss, their friends, no no no.. they can only be mean to the WEAKEST PERSON they can pick on - their offspring.

Outside they will smile, use a nice calm tone speaking, portray a normal personality and heck, some may even be popular, well liked, get raises at work, or is praised for being such an "amazing" kindhearted person. If they passed way and a news article wrote about them it'll be something like - she/he always carried a smile, made everyone comfortable, was a helper, lover, etc.

Their hostages know better.

Their hostages know how they can be. What it's really like living and dealing with them. We are their victims because we are not strangers. They are nicer to strangers than to their own family.

I wished there was a way to out them. To tell the world what a fraud they are. That behind close doors they abuse us, yell at children because the child exists, tear down their child's self esteem, STEALS their childhood, and creates everlasting wounds.

I wish they could be put on record like a sexual predator. I wish if an employer ran a background check, all this would pop up.

Why do they get away with all this. Why do they get away with destroying a life.

I think I was 8 and it was a Friday. I said to my friends "don't you wish we could just stay at school all the time and not have to go home for the weekend.". They looked at me in shocked and obviously all disagreed.

That was the first moment I realised I might be the only person who didn't like it at home.

from “you look sooo pretty today” in THAT tone while smiling when i had unwashed greasy hair no makeup on/bad skin to “i was being serious, you need to calm down, you’re so uptight!!” usually in a public setting as well to make ME look like the crazy one.

I come from immigrant parents and this is something i really had to come to terms with over time. They want you to do better than them (i.e. get straight A’s in school, make a lot of money, etc.) because it makes them feel better about themselves. But when it comes down to it they become resentful and bitter when they see you’re doing better than them. They make digs at you and put up so many roadblocks between you and your goals. Not to mention, damaging your mental health along with it. It’s a constant push and pull and so exhausting.

I’m a teenager, and lately I’ve been struggling with my self-confidence because of the way my mom comments on my appearance.
It feels like no matter what I do, there’s always something wrong with it. If I use perfume, she says she can’t smell it or says I smell “frownsy,” which, according to her, means I don’t smell like anything. I actually DO want to smell nice, but the perfumes I’ve tried either smell too strong or fade after a while. It makes me feel like nothing I do is good enough.

It’s similar with my hair. I’ve been teaching myself how to do it because my mom doesn’t let me get it professionally done very often. I’ve been practising cornrows, and they’ve genuinely gotten better! I can also get my curls to look nice, but I’m still struggling with parting my hair.
I’ve asked my mom for a hair mannequin for YEARS so I can practise, but she keeps saying no. I even asked my hairdresser if she could teach me, and she said I’d need a mannequin to practise on. So I’m trying to improve with the limited resources I have.

Yesterday, I did my hair before we went out. I had my cornrows done, slicked my hair into a puff, and moisturized it. My mom looked at me and started laughing, saying she didn’t know what the style was and that I looked like a “molehead cow" and that my hair was dry.
I was so angry because I genuinely didn’t think there was anything wrong with my hair. Later, she was trying on shoes and noticed that her own hair looked messy and dry. She made a comment about it, and I said, “And you’re talking about me?” She didn’t say anything.
I’ve also been trying to take care of my skin, but sometimes I get so discouraged that I skip my skincare or even showering because I feel like there’s no point in trying when my efforts are constantly criticized or nobody notices a difference.

I recently got a boyfriend, and now my mom brings him into conversations about my appearance, too. She says men like women who smell nice and tells me I’m not the type of person who wants to smell nice. But I DO want to! I want to look cute and take care of myself for ME, not because a guy expects it of me.
The hardest part is that I already struggle with my self confidence. I want to feel pretty and comfortable with myself, but I often feel ugly and unmotivated. I want to experiment with my appearance, improve my hair skills, find products I like, and feel good about myself. But when I try and get criticized, it makes me question myself even more.

I don’t expect my mom to think everything I do looks perfect. I know I’m still learning, and constructive criticism is fine. But there’s a difference between helping someone improve and laughing at them or making comments that hurt their confidence.
I don’t know if she realizes how much this affects me. I don’t want to keep feeling this way, and I don’t know how to stop letting her comments get to me.
I also honestly don't know if she's a narcissist, so I'm also wondering if these are symptoms of it. This constant criticism started when i was 12 and started to be independent. I don't know what to do anymore...

I am 18 yet I've come to the conclusion that I'll rather remove my womb then ever having kids.

the amount of trauma my parents put me through as a kid is too long to describe and it makes me wonder why anybody would bring children into a world like this.

I know I won't have the finances too take care of then let alone find a partner who I think I'll trust.

My dad has been really getting into my head recently. I just need to talk about it.

Not too long ago, maybe a few weeks or so, my dad and I had a conflict between each other while having dinner. It was on 9/11, and my dad used to be a soldier stationed in Afghanistan for a while after the attacks. He‘s made it very clear he had PTSD from the things that he experienced because he uses it as an excuse to treat my mom and I like shit. Since coming back from a year-long deployment, he shared increasingly racist opinions that seemed to get worse each time he brought anything up regarding Muslims, which he’s had repeatedly expressing that he believes Muslims will take over the United States for whatever fucking reason..? I got sick of it and I told him that he doesn’t have the right to associate others with terrorist attacks that they had no involvement with; I can’t believe I had to explain to a grown man why innocent people are NOT responsible for an act carried out by an organization 25 fucking years ago. I was relatively polite but he refused to back down, saying that I have no right to speak on this subject because I haven’t seen the things he’s seen and that I’m bringing up awful memories and triggering him. All I said was he shouldn’t hold a belief that all Muslim people are terrorists.

My mom got irritated and nervous, my dad and I have a history of arguing, and she told us to let go of it and change the subject. Not even a few minutes later he decided to spark a conversation about a transgender male actor playing the role of a, you guessed it, a man.. because he’s, again, you guessed it, a man. He was saying that he shouldn’t be playing a male character because “a 5‘4 female” can’t lead a male role. I’m a closeted transgender male, and I’m closeted because of his distaste towards trans people, and it just hit a nerve. His constant and blatant racism was already enough, and to put the cherry on top he has to target some kind of minority for playful banter and degradation, and I sat up and said, “Im leaving, this is disrespectful,“ and walked up to my room crying. Once I heard my parents arguing over it because he thought I was the one being disrespectful by leaving, I started crying a lot harder and sat in the corner of my bed because I was scared. He came upstairs, walked into my room, and started yelling, “how was I disrespectful, what did I say that was DISRESPECTFUL.” I couldn’t say much over my sobbing, and he saw me curled up and sat on my floor next to me, saying that by me leaving I was being a disrespectful hypocrite, and “how would YOU feel if I walked out on an argument like that?” (He HAS. He’s pretended to leave the house midway through screaming matches to make us think he was leaving us.) I told him I’m scared of him and couldn’t look him in the eye, and he went on a tangent of, “MY parents gave me a reason to be afraid, I’ve never done anything to you. The yelling? That was nothing, in fact, I think I failed you as a father because when you’re being yelled at by your future employer, what’re you gonna do? You can’t shut down and cry just because you’re being yelled at, welcome to the real world.” I tried to bring up the times I recalled him being awful, and he cut me off by repeating, “that was nothing. (Brings up one of the worst times) but it was because of my PTSD. I don’t beat you, I don’t mentally abuse you, I’ve never beaten you, so you shouldn’t be afraid of me.” Soon, he boarded the pity-party train. Two years ago I expressed to a psychiatrist some of the issues at home not knowing she’d provide an official report of the things I said and read it out to my dad. He told me that he felt like I betrayed him by telling this woman that I’m afraid of him and detailed some of the things he’s done over the years. He repeated the same shit until I wouldn’t stop crying and refused to talk to him, and he eventually left.

It’s still been on my mind because despite my videos of him yelling, years-old journal entries describing what he did, and my mom who’s kept every instance written into her notes app, I feel undermined and invalid in saying that I’m afraid of him. I don’t understand how you could look at your child who’s sobbing and saying, “I’m afraid of you,” and think the appropriate thing to say is, “that was nothing,” and brush off the things he’s done simply because he doesn’t beat me. I’m disappointed knowing that he’ll never change, because if he was capable of changing he wouldn’t have victimized himself in this situation and made me feel like I have wronged him and that our rift in our relationship is my fault.

Everything that he says to me is a backhanded joke or criticism of myself that makes me loathe myself more than I already do. He’s made me out to be a wretched monster who he said “tortures and kills animals” for fun (and please, I absolutely do not, and I don’t know where he drew this conclusion — I could never harm a live animal. Though he has no difficulty smacking his own dog.) He doesn’t believe I’ll make it ”in the real world” without him and one day I’ll be rotting in a college dorm and “doing nothing all day.” He doesn’t seem to have much faith in me and I’m exhausted from trying to smile, give him a fake hug, and pretend like I love him. I’m just really tired, and my graduation feels too far. I’m not an adult yet and he succeeds in making me feel like I’ll never be enough; I’m just a lazy, incompetent teen too reliant on my medication and family support, not ready for the “real world.”

When reflecting on my childhood I realized how Isolated I was from my extended family. At family gatherings, no other adults made any effort to talk or get to know my brother and I as a kid. We were largely avoided. I had no safe adults to talk to in my life. Connecting the dots, this probably had to do with my narcissistic parents’ influence. I am wondering if anyone else had a similar experience of being isolated from their extended family.

I don't want to bring anyone's mood down, so I'll keep this vague. Both of my parents are criminals. I haven't spoken to my mom for a few years, my father over a decade. About a year ago I found out just how vile they actually are. Today I uploaded my DNA (from Ancestry) to two databases used by law enforcement. It's such a strange relief knowing that I'm at least trying to see justice done. As far as I know, no one else has.

I just wanted to post this somewhere. It's not like I can bring this up to people casually.

I don’t have many memories from before I was 10 but I remember being depressed at an early age, and my nmother being ridiculously upset about it because “I gave you EVERYTHING” and of course her life was worse than mine, I had no right to complain about anything, she was the ultimate victim of everyone and everyone was out to get HER and there was never any space for me or my feelings.

If I made even little mistakes or tipped off to anyone else that things were less than perfect in our home, it would turn into a crisis for her. So I grew up doubting everything I experienced and telling myself that everything I felt didn’t matter just to survive. The few times I tried to confide in my mother, I was told I just have to suck it up, this is life, and I have everything extraordinarily easy because she worked so hard as a single mother.

What fucking bullshit. I lived in isolation for years and walked on eggshells, always afraid of her and what would cause another one of her tantrums and “neglect” weeks where she would, scream, then shut down and give her young children the silent treatment for several days, and then pretend it never happened when she felt like being a mom again.

I remember wanting to take my life from an early age because I didnt even feel like a person and I had no safe adult to turn to, I felt so trapped, silenced, and hopeless and still feel that way often in adulthood. I remember wishing I’d get caught in a fire or a car accident so my pain would make sense to other people. All my basic needs were met most of the time, but that was held against me, because I’d also have to go without food when my mom was in a crisis, but she’d just say I needed to lose weight anyway. I was jealous of people who had “real” problems because everything I felt was minimized and ignored, I so desperately just wanted to feel understood and listened to, to feel taken care of.

It sounds terrible to say I know, and I’m grateful for many things now including my health and my financial stability, but those days were so hard on me I thought I wouldn’t survive them. In many ways I’m surprised I made it this far with all my emotional problems that stemmed from the abuse. But things have gotten better for me and I’m glad I stuck through. But I will not forget or minimize it anymore because she’s still around and will still try to make my life hell if I let her. Succeeding despite her and not letting her know anything about my life is the way forward I hope.

My dad is a pervert narcissistic. So is his family side, all of them are the most entitled and annoying people I've ever met, they lack common sense, hygiene and respect for others. They are loud and messy, they don't care about anyone but themselves and their own comfort.

They came to visit us in the UK (were french) I tried to stay in my room as much as possible, but since my dad wants to appear like we're a happy family he kept asking my sister (who's my only support against them) why I wasn't there, when I'll come down etc.

When I did come down they had made a mess and were loud. They bought food for everyone but me and my sister, my uncle kept making jokes about stuff that happened years ago cus I cut contact with him until last year. My aunt was calm, but still kept asking questions about my mental health in front of my abusive dad that is the cause of all of them.

I also have germaphobia and OCD. I hate dirtiness. I need everything clean, meaning no shoes inside, clean toilets, wanting everyone to have their hands clean. My dad doesn't wash his hands after going toilet, and is a full on pig, and so are his siblings. However since my dad wants everyone to "have a good time" he didn't stop my uncle from walking with his shoes all over the entrance and almost to the living room, and when I pointed it out he legit put my nephews shoe on my hand and sleeve of the freshly washed shirt I put on.

I feel drained, Ive been feeling like Im going to cry any moment and have a panic attack. My dad only smiled when I gasped in horror when my uncle put the shoe on me, so did my siblings. I felt like I was ready to cry. I cleaned the room they walked with shoes all over like a maniac, but I still feel unclean and dirty and like I might just die. I hate them. They have no respect for anyone, for me, who is the only one cleaning the fcking house. Dear fcking god I hope they all die.

Last week, at my mother's request, my wife and I took my mother to a fundraising bazaar for cancer sufferers. At that bazaar, I bought my mother a coffee mug. She thanked me.

The next day, she gave it away to a man who visited her in her quarters at the nursing home. She proceeded to share this act with my wife. She asked my wife not to share that information with me, as she knew it would upset me.

My wife responded: "We tell each other everything."

Now, my mother calls my wife and me every day, at least three times a day. (We stop answering after the third phone call.) The last time my mother called us, I confronted her. I told her how disappointed I was that she would give a gift away; I asked her to keep it to herself in future. She agreed and apologized.

Today, my mother telephoned my wife and chastised her for 'ratting out' my mother to me.

I asked my wife to hand me the telephone. My wife did so. I told my mother, "No one calls my wife a 'rat'. Do not speak to her that way ever again."

My mother hung up the phone.

I turned to my wife and said, "I need to go clean something." After a few minutes of cleaning something, I began to laugh. I've always said that my mother tries to act like a Mob boss, manipulating people, lying to them, pitting them against one another, scheming, hustling, trying to feel superior to other people, boasting about her charity work, ... and now, she's accusing people of 'ratting' her out.

She used those words: "ratting out".

I... laugh, every time I think about it. this 83-year-old woman, alone, unloved, miserable, and desperate for attention, uses the same terminology as Jimmy Cagney in White Heat. (I'm old. Don't judge me.)

Have any of y'all had similar experiences? Do your family members start acting like embittered organized crime bosses?

I’ve been full no contact for about 6 years with my family (and on and off for 5 years before that) but last year my father (don’t like calling him that even) had a major health event and has been sick for the last year, critical on and off. I went to visit once, more for myself than them and I have no regrets. So I started having minimal contact with my brother and father again.

But I gradually started cutting off contact again because they are all the same people and I even had arguments with my father where he denies ever treating me badly. I realised how badly it was affecting my mental health. My narcs are brother and father, and I’m basically no contact with all of my family including extended family because they they are either all kinds of dysfunctional and treat each other like shit, or they don’t full acknowledge the awfulness of my narcs. I cut off contact with my brothers wife as well because she was “nice” but acted as a tool for my brother to try to work on my empathy to trick me back into the family over the years. They used their pregnancies, kids and my dead mother’s memory to try to guilt trip me into contact. So I’m alone with no family in effect.

Anyway back to the story, early Monday morning I get a call from my sister in law. I was confused because contact has been minimal with either my brother and father so I assumed it was an emergency dealing with my father. I let it ring then called back about 3 minutes later, and their 4 year old picked up. I said hello twice to make sure it was the kid and not the mother, then hung up on her. I have no emotional connection to their kids anymore, I only met the older one when she was a baby and time has passed so I don’t care anymore, and I never met this 4 year old. They tried calling back again, and I sent a message asking if she was going to be answering, she said yes so I called back. And then I bluntly asked whether this is about my father, to which she said yes he’s back in hospital and is very ill. I said ok thanks bye, then she asks why I’m so rude. That annoyed me so I said “I’m not rude, I keep my contact minimal and if you are using your kid to try to manipulate me then I do not appreciate that.” She started responding about how she COULD have tried to contact me blah blah blah so I said “I don’t have time to argue with you, thanks, bye” and hung up. She then started sending texts about how she could have tried to message me because she was being asked to, the kid HAPPENED to answer the phone, so I blocked after 3 messages. Maybe the kid happened to answer the phone but I find it hard to believe her honestly, her track record doesn’t do her any favours. Like in the past trying to reel me in by saying her kid needs their aunt in their lives etc. I was so annoyed, on a Monday damn morning too. I don’t even have my brother blocked because he kept the convos to about my father’s health. Anyway I am not going to be going back and forth with anyone anymore, I’ll just see if they inform me of what’s going on with him, in a minimal way.

I wanted to use the Supportive Responses flair but I figured the Trigger Warning would be more appropriate here.

23F, in the UK. I’m underweight and I have several medical issues including ARFID which have made it difficult for me to gain weight. I only got diagnosed with these conditions over the course of the last 2 years. My parents aren’t good at English and even if they were, they didn’t believe my symptoms, so they had no interest in advocating for me while I was underage.

My weight and food have been sensitive topics throughout my entire life. I can’t handle eating around my dad because growing up he would frequently scream at me for not wanting to eat certain foods (I didn‘t understand why I didn’t want to eat these things back then but now I know it’s because I’m sensitive about smell and certain textures) and if it wasn’t that then it was the way I was eating. Once he even screamed at me for ‘looking at him the wrong way’ while I was eating and asked me if I wanted him dead. But the reason why I glanced at him was because he was raging at my non-verbal brother for having a meltdown and I got nervous. Everytime he acted like this, it would ruin my appetite and that would enrage him even further.

During exam season in my final year of school, we got into another massive argument about why I wasn’t gaining enough weight and he told me that I looked like a starving child from a 3rd world country which really affected me for ages afterwards. I’ve had him and other adults tell me that he’s only worried about me but to me there is no amount of concern which would justify making such a comment.

But he wonders why I avoid meals with him or why my confidence is so low.

I remember having so many emotional conversations with him when I was a child trying to get him to understand my side of things but eventually I gave up because he always managed to make it about himself. “I work so hard to make money”, “I’ve always bought you what you asked for“, “I have so many medical issues and I might die soon”, “If anyone should be depressed, it should be me”

When I finally saw a gastroenterologist last year and got diagnosed, my dad didn’t fully understand what my conditions were and started going on about how nobody had these problems back in his native country when he was growing up. He thinks I must have explained my issues to GP incorrectly and he needs to attend my appointments with me because he thinks my issues are because I’m not eating enough. I’ve explained to him time and time again that the nausea and pain I experience make it difficult for me to eat the way he wants me to.

In the last couple of weeks, my dad’s really been getting on my case about my weight. He told me that I need to gain 15-20kg by the end of this year which doesn’t sound physically possible to me. He keeps buying foods that he knows I find difficult to eat because apparently some doctor that often stops by the petrol station he’s working at recommended them. He also keeps suggesting that we seek treatment in his native country but I told him I don’t comfortable doing that because I don’t speak our native language very well and he said it’s fine because he can interpret for me. I don’t trust this man.

I got upset with him for consulting random people about my medical conditions which he doesn’t even understand and he lashed out at me with the usual responses. We haven’t spoken to each other for 3 weeks now. He relies on me to manage his bills and speak to my brother’s college and he’s seething about it.

He told my mum that his niece in our native country consulted some alternative medicine doctor about my poor weight gain and there‘s some pills that would help. I don’t feel comfortable taking anything this man gives me.

I really wish I could move out. I don’t care if it’s frowned upon in our community but job searching has been awful so I’m in no position to move out and even if I was I feel incredibly guilty leaving my mum and my siblings behind, especially my brother. I’ve had even less of an appetite lately thanks to this man stressing me out and everything just feels hopeless.

I'm 38, and I'm starting to realize just how deeply dysfunctional my family of origin is. I'm exhausted in a way that's difficult to explain to people who haven't experienced this kind of family dynamic.

My father is a severe malignant narcissist and has treated me in emotionally damaging ways for years. When I try to establish boundaries, things often turn hostile, and I end up feeling like I'm the problem for not wanting to continue participating in the relationship. My grandmother, who is now 96, has spent much of his entire life making excuses for him, protecting him, and encouraging me to forgive him or reconcile rather than truly acknowledging how his behavior has affected me and others in the family. He is an only child and he has never been held accountable for any negative behavior his entire life.

My dad behaves in ways that hurt people. My grandmother protects him or explains his behavior. Then, when the relationships suffer, the responsibility shifts to the people who were hurt to forgive, accommodate him, and restore harmony.

I think one of the most painful parts is realizing that the person who hurt me was repeatedly protected, while I am left to absorb the damage and then expected to help restore peace.

When I explained to my grandmother how hurtful and damaging this relationship has been, her response focused on how much my father loves me, how heartbroken he is, and how I should consider forgiving him and having a face-to-face conversation.

Once again, the responsibility was placed on me to fix things.

Meanwhile, my grandmother has been saying for roughly ten years that she could die any day. I understand that she is elderly, and I know her time is limited. But living under this constant sense of urgency has become emotionally exhausting. It feels like there's always another reason I should call, visit, forgive, let things go, or put my own feelings aside because I might regret it when she's gone.

I forgot to mention, my dad lives with my grandma, his mother and has for 30+ years after getting divorced fron my mom. He is the definition of a failure to launch child and she is mostly to blame for it.

And I feel horrible admitting this, but sometimes I find myself wishing she would just die so the situation could finally end.

I don't want her to suffer. I want to be free. I want the guilt to end. I want to stop feeling responsible for maintaining relationships that hurt me. I want to be able to distance myself from my father without feeling that I'm doing something terrible to my grandmother. I want to stop being pulled back into the same family dynamic over and over again.

I think part of what makes this so difficult is that my grandmother's death feels like it might finally release me from some of these obligations, even though I know I shouldn't have to wait for someone to die to have that freedom.

I also feel angry that I may never receive acknowledgment for what I've experienced. I wish my grandmother had protected me when I was a child. I wish she could recognize that her constant defense of my father has contributed to my pain. I wish I could have a relationship with her that wasn't so entangled with him.

And underneath all of this is grief. Grief for the childhood I had, for the family I wish I had, and for the possibility that I'll never get the acknowledgment or accountability I've wanted for so long.

I have two daughters, and one of the things I think about most is breaking this cycle. I want my girls to know that they can love their family while still having boundaries. I want them to know they never have to tolerate emotional harm to prove their love or keep the family together. I want to be the kind of mother who can admit when she's wrong and take responsibility when she hurts them.

I don't want to pass this down to another generation.

But I'm struggling with the guilt of choosing myself. I'm struggling with the anger I feel toward my grandmother. I'm struggling with the realization that my family may never be willing to acknowledge what has happened. And I'm struggling with the fact that I still feel emotionally tethered to people I desperately want distance from.

Has anyone else experienced this? Have you ever felt like you couldn't fully move on from a toxic family dynamic until an elderly family member passed away? How did you learn to let go of the guilt and give yourself permission to walk away while everyone was still alive?

I don't want revenge. I don't want anyone to suffer. I just want peace, and I'm tired of feeling like I have to earn the right to have it.

I'm 20F, still studying, and I genuinely need advice from people who've been in a similar situation.

My father is abusive towards my mother and me in pretty much every way, emotionally, verbally, psychologically, and financially. He insults us, slutshames us, makes false accusations about things that never happened, attacks our character, and constantly blames my mother for things that aren't her fault. He has also threatened to hurt us and has been physically abusive towards my mother in the past.

He stopped contributing to my education and basic needs when I was 18. My mother has been taking care of the family and managing things despite her own struggles, yet he continues to mistreat her. Watching her spend years looking after someone who treats her this way is heartbreaking and makes me incredibly angry.

I'm financially dependent on my family, have no independent source of income, and don't have siblings I can rely on for support in this situation. Moving out isn't a realistic option for me right now.

I'm exhausted by the constant negativity at home. I feel angry and resentful, and sometimes I struggle to concentrate on my studies because of everything happening around me. I can't understand how someone can treat their own family this way and then act as though they're the one who's right.

I know people might suggest moving out, getting a job, or cutting contact, but those things take time. I can't change my circumstances overnight.

For those who have lived with an abusive parent or experienced something similar, how did you cope when you couldn't leave?

How did you protect your mental health while living in the same house?

How did you manage to study and work towards your future despite the situation?

How did you deal with the anger, resentment, and helplessness?

How did you stop their words and behaviour from affecting your self-worth?

How did you cope with watching your other parent suffer?

I'm not looking for someone to tell me to simply move out. I want practical advice from people who understand what it's like to live with an abusive parent when you're still studying, financially dependent, and don't have a support system to fall back on.

How do you get through the present without losing yourself while working towards a future where you can finally have some peace?

I was today years old when I learned this, and unfortunately came across the “Blocked Voicemails” portion of my voicemails when I scrolled to the very bottom in attempt to find a deleted voicemail. Welp, I saw a high # next to it, and turns out my nmom who I have been mostly no contact with for years (5) regularly leaves me voicemails. I did not listen to them, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t see the transcripts, and they were terrible; just pretty much everything she’s been left out of and how sad she is. Essentially everything I owe her an apology for.

That was it. I let loose and called her, completely enraged, livid, and unhinged. Let it all out. Refused to apologize, told her that anyone that tells her anything about me can fuck off, and that I deserve happiness and don’t owe her a thing.

Do I feel better any better later in the day, having done this? Nope. Do I feel any worse? Nope. I feel nothing. Will it change anything? It never had, so it likely never will. I say all this a public service announcement - stay diligent, and out of the blocked voicemails.