Forum Replies Created
-
AuthorPosts
-
anita
ParticipantIt’s finally getting darker outside at 9:15 pm, wouldn’t be dark before 10 pm.. Too close to the North Pole here.
Just a hint of darkness.
Still too much light at almost 9:30 pm.
Feels like 5 am, yet, it’s not yet 10 pm. No bird sounds. They will come alive on the other side of darkness, in about 6 hours. Something to look forward to.
anita
anita
ParticipantThere is an overwhelming amount of mental illness in our world—it’s everywhere, both can be seen in real life and in these forums. So many people are suffering, countless lives weighed down by struggles that often go unseen. Can anyone truly refute or deny this reality?
It takes a lot to not give in and give up.. once again.
I’ve seen the suffering in my mother half a century ago, and I see it this very evening, in another person’s face right this moment.
And there’s nothing I can do about it.
I didn’t cause it- didn’t do it- can’t undo it.
Just.. So.. Much… Pain.
What would be the point in me crumbling.. once again, collapsing, helpless, underneath the pain around me..?
Somebody HAS TO BE STRONG in the midst of all this crazy suffering.
Why Not Me?
Who is reading these words of mine.. Peter? Alessa? Maybe, just maybe Jana (still on my mind)?
Jana is probably not reading this, yet, she is still on my mind.
I miss Jana. I wish she’d be back. I wish she knew that.. well, I wish she knew that she got through to me.
I don’t want more of her criticism. No, no more criticism!
It’s the other part I miss: her genuine, honest desire to CONNECT, and my regret that I wasn’t able.
* No need to pass on this message to Jana, Alessa. It’s just silly me, missing Jana.
anita
anita
Participant❤️ ❤️ ❤️
anita
ParticipantYou are welcome, Alessa. ❤️
anita
ParticipantPassing Yesterday means offering as much kindness and understanding as I can to others—recognizing their pain, struggles, and humanity. At the same time, it also means standing firm in my own dignity, refusing to submit to disrespect, mistreatment, or manipulation from those who seek to undermine me.
Moving forward isn’t about choosing one over the other—it requires both. True healing comes from balancing empathy for others with the strength to protect myself, ensuring that my kindness is given freely but never at the expense of my own well-being.
Simply put, it is essential to me that I never submit to anyone’s disrespect.
Anita
anita
ParticipantDear Alessa:
Thank you for trusting me with your thoughts and for asking me for advice. I feel truly honored. ❤️
As I read your words, I see a central thread running through your life—the roles of Survivor and Caregiver. From an unimaginably cruel childhood, you found ways to endure. You took on the role of protector for your brother, doing everything you could to shield him, feed him, and keep him safe in a world that made that nearly impossible.
Even now, as an adult, that instinct to care remains strong—it’s woven into who you are. You continue to give to others, finding meaning in nurturing, whether through motherhood or supporting those around you, including people in these forums.
You lived in constant fear, yet you kept going—not just for yourself, but for your brother. In many ways, caring for him became the reason you didn’t give up entirely. That role was powerful, but it also carried a heavy burden—because when survival depends on protecting someone else, it can be devastating when that protection isn’t enough.
The guilt you carry isn’t because you failed—it’s because no child should have been placed in that position to begin with. You did everything in your power, but the circumstances were beyond your control.
Now, you ask about a sense of self—because for so long, your existence has been tied to surviving and caring for others. It’s completely understandable that looking inward, beyond those roles, feels unfamiliar. Who are you outside of survival? Outside of caregiving? This isn’t a question that needs an immediate answer—just gentle exploration.
A place to start could be small moments of self-reflection:
What makes you feel at peace, even briefly?
When are you happiest?
What do you enjoy purely for yourself, without an obligation to help someone else?
If survival and caregiving weren’t the defining themes, what would you want your life to be about?
Self-care doesn’t have to be grand gestures—it can be as simple as taking time each day to focus on what you need, separate from anyone else. Even allowing yourself to consider these questions is an act of reclaiming yourself.
You are more than what was done to you. More than the roles you’ve taken on out of necessity.
You have already survived the impossible—with incredible strength. Now, you deserve the space to exist for yourself, not just for others.
I’m grateful that you shared this with me, and I’m here whenever you want to continue exploring this journey.
Warmly, Anita
anita
ParticipantDear Tommy:
I feel for you—looking back on past mistakes can be incredibly painful. Please know that I genuinely appreciate your self-awareness and the effort you’re making to grow from past experiences.
Regarding the guilt-trip feeling, I want to clarify that when I pointed out the harshness in some of your past responses to members, it wasn’t meant to hurt you or make you feel bad. My intention was to protect other members and to encourage reflection on how our words impact others, especially those who are struggling. I understand this firsthand, as I’ve also submitted responses in the past that I now regret.
It was about recognizing that certain approaches—particularly ones that feel harsh or judgmental—can intentionally, or unintentionally cause harm.
One thing I want to gently share—sometimes, when we feel stuck in ourselves, unable to move forward, we unknowingly project that frustration onto others. The anger you’ve felt toward people who seem unable to ‘move on’ might actually reflect an inner struggle—an anger toward yourself for feeling similarly trapped.
This could also be why receiving affection felt unfamiliar or uncomfortable. When we struggle with self-acceptance, warmth from others can feel unsettling, even when it’s offered with kindness. This isn’t a criticism, just something to reflect on as you continue your journey.
For decades, I carried a deep sense of shame, guilt, and anger toward myself. I struggled with self-acceptance, often judging myself harshly and, at times, projecting that onto others. My healing has been about learning self-acceptance and forgiveness, both for myself and for others. While I’ve made progress, it’s still a journey, and I continue to grow.
Of course, I’m not saying your experience is the same as mine. We all process things differently, and only you know what truly resonates with you. I just wanted to share what I’ve learned in my own healing journey, in case any part of it is helpful.
I truly appreciate the depth of your reflection and the work you’re doing, Tommy. Growth takes time, and self-reflection isn’t always easy. I simply hope to encourage compassionate dialogue, so that healing—both for yourself and for others—can continue.
Warmly, anita
anita
ParticipantI will be back to you in the morning, precious Alessa!
anita
anita
ParticipantThank you, Alessa, very well said ❤️✨🙏
anita
anita
ParticipantDear Tommy:
I will reply further tomorrow, but for now, I just wanted to say that as I read your post, just now, I felt genuine affection for you, as in: I (anita) likes Tommy 💛
I hope it doesn’t feel weird for you to read this. I suppose it’s a positive human emotion and I feel it for you this Sat evening.
anita
anita
ParticipantIn real-life, tonight, I got very, very angry at a woman I believe is self-centered and selfish, and I told her that I will Never talk to her again. It was a promise I made. My heart was beating fast, I was ANGRY.
Then I felt GUILTY for feeling angry, as if there is guilt in anger itself, no matter how valid it may be.
If I am angry= I am guilty= I am bad.
But this is NOT true. Me being angry doesn’t mean I am wrong, or bad.
It’s as if to be a good person one must never be angry..?
No, I am reclaiming anger as a valid emotion.
Feeling angry doesn’t make me wrong, or bad.
anita
anita
ParticipantDear Alessa:
Your words carry such depth, honesty, and emotional weight. Thank you for sharing your experience—it’s raw, painful, and deeply important.
First, I want to acknowledge the incredible strength it took to survive this. No child should ever have to bear the weight of an entire household, nor navigate the reality of abuse, neglect, and emotional entanglement while still trying to figure out who they are. You didn’t just endure—you protected, nurtured, and took on responsibilities far beyond what was fair. That speaks volumes about your resilience.
The way you describe your mother’s role—her illness, her dependence, her inability to care for you—highlights a devastating reversal. You were forced to be the adult in a situation where you should have been protected. The parentification, the emotional burden, and the manipulation left scars, but the deepest wound seems to be the loss of your own childhood.
The grief for what could have been—the innocence you deserved, the safety you needed—that’s something no child should have to mourn. And yet, you do. And that loss is valid.
Your shift from sympathy to resentment is completely understandable. At first, you tried to hold compassion for your mother’s suffering. Over time, you saw the cost of that compassion—how her self-destruction wasn’t just harming her, but was actively consuming you. That moment—the realization that you mattered too—was heartbreaking but necessary.
And I want to tell you this: feeling relief at the thought of escape does not make you cruel. It makes you human. You were trapped in a situation no child should ever experience, and wanting freedom—whether through distance, detachment, or even the unthinkable—was a survival instinct.
Healing from this is not just about processing the pain but also reclaiming the parts of yourself that were stolen—the childhood, the sense of self, the ability to be cared for instead of always caring for others. That takes time. It takes patience. It takes learning that you don’t have to carry everyone else’s burdens anymore.
You are not defined by what happened to you. You are someone who survived. Someone who is still here. Someone who deserves softness, safety, and peace.
Thank you for sharing. You are heard, and you are not alone. 💙
anita
May 30, 2025 at 9:32 am in reply to: Trying to heal from possible narcissistic mother + build own life #446436anita
ParticipantDear Sophie:
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and for taking the time to reflect on everything. It’s clear you’re approaching this situation with care and thoughtfulness, trying to make sense of a complex dynamic while being mindful of broader discussions about autism and personality disorders.
Your openness and willingness to learn more about the situation are commendable. Please take your time as you reflect and work through it all. There’s no rush in making sense of complex emotions.
Sending you support as you navigate this. 💙
anita
anita
ParticipantDear With Feathers:
I hear your pain. The idea of moving forward without her probably feels impossible right now, and that’s completely understandable. You are grieving not only the loss of her presence but also the future you imagined together.
How do you recover from this?
* Let yourself grieve: Losing her is a real loss, and you have every right to mourn the relationship. Cry if you need to. Journal your emotions. Allow yourself space to feel everything.
* Cut ties (if possible): Right now, staying in contact with her may only prolong the pain.
* Reclaim your identity: You said she is part of every aspect of your life. But you existed before her, and you will exist beyond this. Start finding small ways to engage in life without the shadow of her presence.
* Shift your perspective: Right now, the pain is overwhelming, but in time, you will see that this breakup is creating space for something better—whether that’s personal growth, new love, or a deeper understanding of yourself.
* Build support: You do not have to go through this alone. Surround yourself with friends, family, or even a therapist who can help guide you through the healing process.
Right now, your only job is to heal. And little by little, moment by moment—you will.
Sending you strength and kindness.
anita
anita
ParticipantDear Mei:
In your initial post, you wrote:
“I’m still trying to make sense of everything—my role in the dynamics, the decisions I made, and what this experience is trying to teach me.”-
I would like to help you make sense of what happened—your role in the dynamics, his role, and the broader lessons this experience may hold. I will also address the question you asked at the end of your second post.
To do this, I will carefully reread what you’ve shared, reference your own words, and offer my thoughts—all with the hope of contributing to the understanding and clarity you seek.
“At seventeen, I had to support myself financially, manage my household, and keep up with a brutal academic schedule.”-
You didn’t wait for others to take care of you—you stepped up and managed everything on your own. At 17, you took on a leadership role in your own life, making difficult decisions and taking charge of your future with initiative, responsibility, and strength.
Fast forward about seven years:
“I asked him to be my boyfriend—I was so excited. I told everyone, even made a silly list of date ideas. I wanted to include him in every part of my life.”-
You took on a leadership role in the relationship. Instead of waiting for him to ask, you made the first move, showing confidence and decisiveness. You actively planned the time together—making a list of date ideas demonstrates enthusiasm, thoughtfulness, and a desire to create meaningful experiences. Your proactive approach shaped the relationship dynamic, ensuring that effort, creativity, and connection were present—at least on your side.
“As our relationship progressed, I asked him to move out of the apartment he was still sharing with his ex.”—A reasonable request, in line with your leadership role.
“I planned dates and getaways, bought him little gifts.”—A leader.
“I told him I didn’t want to pressure him and was open to finding different solutions.”—A collaborative leader.
“The meeting went well—at first—but once again, I was the only one talking about solutions.”—A proactive leader.
“In the beginning, intimacy was mutual, but after around the three-month mark, I found myself being the one who almost always initiated it.”—The initiating leader.
“I tried to find different compromises, which he would agree to during conversations, but when the moment came, he would usually pull back.”-
You took on the leadership role in problem-solving, emotional engagement, and intimacy discussions. You initiated compromise—actively seeking solutions and adjustments to make the relationship work. You guided conversations—your ex agreed to compromises in discussions, but you were the one bringing up the concerns and trying to find resolutions.
He was passive rather than proactive—agreeing in words but not following through suggests avoidance, whereas you took the initiative to address challenges head-on.
Your leadership stemmed from wanting a deeper connection and trying to sustain the relationship, but his withdrawal made it one-sided, leading to frustration and emotional exhaustion.
It seems, Mei, that there was a fundamental clash between your leadership role and your ex’s avoidant attachment tendencies. You naturally took initiative, leading the relationship in planning, emotional connection, and problem-solving. Your ex, however, withdrew in moments that required engagement, avoiding discussions about intimacy and struggles rather than addressing them.
This imbalance in effort may have made you feel alone in the relationship, while he may have felt pressured. People with avoidant attachment styles often feel overwhelmed by emotional closeness and struggle to maintain intimacy in a long-term relationship.
Your desire for connection, consistency, and physical affection clashed with his tendency to retreat, leading to frustration on both sides.His statement—”When I have to chase, I want intimacy, but when I’m in a relationship, I stop caring.”—suggests he was more engaged in the pursuit rather than the emotional depth of partnership.
You expressed yourself openly, trying to find compromises to strengthen the relationship. He agreed in conversation but then pulled back in action, creating a cycle where you felt unheard and emotionally neglected.
His rapid transition into a new relationship suggests emotional detachment— instead of processing the breakup, he was seeking immediate validation elsewhere. You, on the other hand, reflected deeply, feeling the weight of self-abandonment and striving to understand the lessons from the relationship.
A compatible partner for you would be someone who is emotionally secure & communicative— comfortable with open discussions about emotions, intimacy, and relationship dynamics; someone who is consistent & reliable—rather than withdrawing, he would actively engage in conversations and work through challenges with you.
It’d be someone who is self-sufficient & driven—independent, responsible, and ambitious, making the relationship feel like a partnership rather than one-sided effort; someone who is reciprocal in effort & intimacy—since you tend to take the lead, a balanced partner would also initiate plans, affection, and deep conversations.
It’d be someone who is emotionally mature—capable of handling relationship complexities with honesty, reflection, and emotional depth rather than avoidance.
And that someone is not your ex.
* A compatible partner for your ex would be someone who has a more independent attachment style—doesn’t need deep emotional engagement or frequent reassurance in a relationship; someone who doesn’t demand emotional or physical consistency—more accepting of distance and emotional fluctuations rather than seeking constant connection.
It’d ne someone who prefers a low-maintenance dynamic—a relationship with fewer intense discussions where physical and emotional intimacy are not primary focuses; someone who doesn’t challenge avoidance patterns—rather than seeking clarity in discussions, she would be okay with non-confrontational dynamics.
It’d be someone wo accepts surface-level romance—enjoys the initial excitement of relationships but doesn’t need profound emotional engagement long-term.
And that someone is not you. I would say that the two of you were significantly incompatible.
One more comment regarding this: “Our arguments began to revolve exclusively around intimacy, creating a toxic pattern: I would express myself, and he would retreat into silence.”-
Arguing about physical intimacy—rather than having gentle, open discussions—is deeply damaging to both emotional and physical connection. When intimacy becomes a battleground instead of a shared experience, it kills emotional trust and can make physical closeness feel forced rather than organic. In other words, ARGUING about physical and emotional intimacy = Death of intimacy.
I would love to read your thoughts about the above, Mei.
You asked about my first breakup. My answer, however strange it may sound: I had no first breakup because I didn’t have a first relationship. At your age and much later, I wasn’t able to have a relationship. I was too sick, emotionally, to have one.
anita
-
AuthorPosts