Dear anita,

when it comes to K. I feel confused. I feel like I hurt him, because I let him use me. But I said it’s o.K. when he asked if I wanted this. He said he can wait. I still said yes. Out of fear of disappointing him, I think. I also had the feeling that I had nothing else to offer to him. That we got along better in bed, contrary to when talking. When I talked to him I most of the time had the feeling like I’m not interesting enough, don’t talk enough, am not hardworking enough and don’t have anything interesting to say. He said: say something (I think it is hard to start a conversation with just this request). So I said you can ask me something. He replied: “No”. So I started to talk to him about my current art project, but it seemed to me like he found it ridiculous or couldn’t understand that I spend my time doing this.

Did he know I didn’t want this? Did he know I wanted more? He didn’t seem like a bad person to me.  I realized that I was not part of his life. That I was only getting scraps of his time. Stupidly I thought it could change, if I was just patient enough.

It is definitely for the best that this is over. It made me feel bad about myself. I also started to spend less time in the community rooms of our dormitory, out of fear of meeting his sister or others. Most of my distress in the past half year was caused by this. I posted about it on this thread.

I don’t remember anything particular in my childhood where I felt I was hurting a family member…. Some things come to my mind though…

1: As a child I cried a lot. My father said (I think to my mother, thinking I was not listening) that I was blackmailing him by crying. He also was angry or irritated, his voice sounded emotional. Since then I started crying only in my room and without making noises and without anyone seeing me.

2: My sister told me this Christmas that she somehow felt responsible or guilty for our home being messy. So she also felt guilty and responsible for things that should have been the adults job. I too remember my mother complaining that she was left alone with the housework. They came from a farmer’s family. There it was usual for the children to help out. We were made to feel guilty about not helping enough. Don’t get me wrong, I think giving children chores is good. Just the guilt tripping is unnecessary. And I also think that it is normal for children to not feel enthusiastic about it. Doesn’t mean they are bad children!

3: I often felt like a bother too my parents. For example, when I was in my last year of high school, I was talking to my father about future plans. I wanted to go abroad and work as an Au Pair. My father exclaimed “Au Pair, Au Pair, why don’t you go study?” It seemed like I was getting on his nerves is what I mean.

4: I had a Gym Ball and my sister was sitting on it. I pulled it away from under my sister. My father hit me on my head and also said something devaluing to me. I too, hit my sister often. I made a point to not let her read my books etc. Now I think that I was very jealous of her. My father always was on her side. On the other hand she wanted to do all the things that I did, which bothered me. She also was better in school.

I was probably also mean to my brother. But he also didn’t play such a big role for me, as he was 5 years younger. I remember him smashing the glass door at home out of anger. I don’t know what it was about, I don’t think it was because of me. That reminds me, once I broke new glasses out of anger and my mother said “It is just because of your anger!” or something like that. Anger seemed to be something bad for her, but she didn’t make me understand it better.

Hm, I don’t remember so much. My family was strange. My parents made me feel bad, I think. Like I was not a good daughter? Once a doctor said to my mother “You have such a nice daughter” and my mother said something like: “You don’t know what she is really like”. They also often jokingly said “Those bad children”.

I can’t remember anything big about feeling like hurting my parents. But I was feeling like I was difficult and a problem, I think. It feels a little blurry thinking back. It’s already long ago. I know I was unhappy. Even as a child of not older than 13 years I had thoughts of jumping out of the window and suicide. I was hoping to finally grow up and leave my home…