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Have you ever realized just how broken you are?

I just spent the last hour typing up a post to put in !squaredcircle about how I observed a beautiful moment with a father and his 3 year old son.

The son was a fan of a wrestler named L.A. Knight. And he was set to make his grand entrance, and have his match, live in front of 57k people.

We were in the stadium, in line for merchandise. The line was really long. So the dad realized they would miss L.A Knight’s match.

Logically the smart thing to do is bring your son back to your seats. Give up your place in line, and try later. Or evdn online later.

Instead, this dad, who was clearly also a fan of L.A Knight, and wanted to see him asked his son: “Do you want to stay in line? Or go see L.A Knight?”

And the kid picked staying in line. The dad confirmed with him “If you stay in line, you’ll miss L.A Knight in the ring. He’s coming out now.”

And the kid chose to stay in line to get L.A Knight merch.

And the whole moment was beautiful to me. The idea of a dad respecting his kids opinion is foreign to me.

I grew up with my dad telling me to shut up and do it his way. Always his way. Still to this day, it’s always his way. My mom left him because he was controlling. My sisters (who are not his kids, but he helped raise them) don’t talk to him because of how he treated them.

I’m 40, and now he’s elderly, and I barely talk to him. Sometimes I feel guilty until moments like this. Where I’m reminded that still to this day I don’t speak up when I should. I don’t ask for help when I need it. I just suffer in silence, just as I always do.

There have even been times in the past where calling 911 for someone else having an emergancy was the right thing to do. Hearing gunshots on your street. Seeing a woman hanging out of a car screaming for help. But not calling 911, because nobody wants to hear what I have to say. Nobody wants to hear from me.

And at Summerslam, I see this kid saying he wants to stay in line. And the dad just confirms, and explains the consequences that he’ll miss L.A Knight, but the kid insisted on staying in line. Despite it not being the smart choice. It was the “wrong” choice. If I were in that position, my dad would have ended it with zero input on my end. But here this dad was respecting his sons choice. His three year old son.

And as I typed to a wrestling community what I intended to be a beautiful story, I realized it’s only beautiful to me because of my own repressed perspective. Everybody else just would hear a story about a normal dad doing normal dad things. Loving his son. Respecting his son.

And nobody would get why that would make me cry.

So I deleted the story before I posted it, and began to realize that even though I’m 40, and should be past all this, it still hurts, and I’m a deeply broken person.

And now I’m wondering, has anyone else had these moments where they realize that they’ve just been repressing pain for 30 years to the point where a normal loving relationship can cause jealousy, but also an intense heartwarming moment?

I don’t know how to describe it. That moment was just 10 minutes out of this kids life that he’ll not remember. The dad won’t deem it important, so he won’t remember this by now. It was a meaningless moment that in a loving relationship happens everyday. But to me, the idea of a dad respecting his son making a “wrong decision” had me supressing anger, sadness, and heartwarming joy, but also knowing how weird I was for that. And so I shut up, and repressed it. Only in trying to retell a heartwarming story did I realize it was coming across as bitter and jealous, and thats when I realized thats MY issue. And I don’t know where to go from here.

Have you ever had a moment like this?

UncleGrandPa ,

Never knowing my father, i was raised by a stepfather. He never spoke to me. Other than to demand i perform some task and then explaining how badly i had completed it… He never spoke to me. He never taught me how to. Ride a bike, throw a ball, shave, drive, or any of the things a dad should teach a son. I know almost nothing of his life… He never spoke to me

PindoLek24 ,

I grew up in Poland. Want me to add something? Beatings from my brother, mother, neighborhood, school, employers, university, the country… Then, during my studies, I got sick after a vaccine, had an accident, got cancer, had to undergo surgery, then almost died, needed another surgery, but now I feel great—I’m not even 30 yet. Everything passes. I didn’t list everything. With each hit, you become stronger, but before that, you have to suffer a bit—whether you do it to yourself or someone else does it to you. Don’t collect poo. >> sasana.wikidot.com/depresjaU can browse it in the English version quickly.

PindoLek24 ,

Ajahn Brahm speaks about this pain: growing pains. The suffering that accompanies development. It’s related to the realization of something. Everyone goes through it.

MehBlah ,

I’m in my 50’s. Both my parents passed this year. I didn’t go to either funeral. I felt nothing but anger at them. I did finally start going to therapy. My parents were different in their abuse but the same in that they never once in my life apologizes for any wrong they committed. It was physical abuse until I became physically stronger. Then it was nothing but mental abuse for the rest of my life. Admitting it hurts and admitting that its the source of your anger is good for you.

My parents like many didn’t “believe” in therapy. For good reason as it turns out. They knew they are guilty of abuse and feared exposure. Give it at least a couple of tries. If you don’t like the therapist you see. See another one. Be prepared to hear things you will not like. Acknowledge your pain is driving negative emotions and keep trying to not let it rule you.

The best luck is the luck you make.

Retro_unlimited ,

My aunt is very controlling, so I completely understand how you feel. My aunt wants to control every aspect of my life, she tried to rob me of my money to gain even more control over me. I feel like a slave in my own house trapped because of her. Soon I will get out of this situation but you’re not alone in that feeling you got seeing normal people doing normal things. It’s even weirder for me telling normal people of my aunts abuse because most people never seen a narcissist and this deception to gain full control. My aunt plays “I’m so worried about my nephew” but it’s to cover her abuse, so people don’t believe me.

Passerby6497 ,

Becoming a parent has been one long strong of these moments. By doing the right things for my child, I get reminded of just how bad my childhood was, and it’s hard. But I’m determined to give them a better life than I had, to break the cycle.

over_clox ,

I’m soon gonna turn 42 this September. My father passed away a little over 10 years ago ☹️

But guess what? Me and my roommate decided to adopt Brownie the stray dog!

Someone else adopted Patches as well.

Cadeillac ,
@Cadeillac@lemmy.world avatar

I can’t tell if you adopted your late fathers dog, or decided to get a dog because of his passing

over_clox ,

We adopted a stray dog from our city park. It’s only more or less coincidence that it’s right after the 10th anniversary after my father’s passing.

I know my father would have done the same, he’s a really good pup, very well behaved and pretty smart too. I believe he used to be someone’s service dog.

Cadeillac ,
@Cadeillac@lemmy.world avatar

That’s awesome. My dog has helped me mentally so much. She’s smart but stubborn. Still wants to do what she wants even though she knows the commands

BeneGesseritWitch , (edited )
@BeneGesseritWitch@sh.itjust.works avatar

Yeah, it started to really hit me when my friends starting having kids. I’d see them being so kind and patient and actually giving a shit about what their kids think and how their kids feel. It’s both beautiful and heartbreaking; beautiful to see that this is exactly how a parent should be, and heartbreaking cause little me never had -and will never have- that experience. I feel like this plus getting older has made me realize just how bad my childhood really was. Like, I knew it was bad when it was happening, but I don’t think I could grasp just how bad it was without some distance and perspective.

I haven’t found myself jealous over kids who have it better than me, but I’ve found I am envious of people who’ve had at least one decent parent in their corner. Both of mine were horrible people. And on top of the abuse: ADHD (undiagnosed until recently), depression, bad anxiety, CPTSD (from the childhood), and possibly autism but no one seems to want to test an adult so I may never know. And the worst part is realizing, in hindsight and through therapy, that my mom knew. She fucking knew how mentally unwell I was, and not only did she do nothing to help, she would use the threat of having me committed to manipulate me. So fucked up. ugh.

So yeah I’m fully aware of the ways I’m broken, and I’ll probably be in therapy for the rest of my life over it. Anyway, we deserved better. Everyone deserves a safe childhood with caring parents, everyone. Even you.

aaaaace ,

My dad broke the cycle. Late in life he told me a story about myself.

We were in a park. I ran up and asked for something and he said no. I ran off and then came back, asking again but in some other way, this time he let ne do whatever it was.

His mother, a deeply religious schoolteacher, was sitting nearby, and after I ran off she criticized him for changing his mind, told him parents should never do that.

I think he told me that story for at least one reason.

Any person’s awareness can benefit others.

fadingembers ,
@fadingembers@lemmy.blahaj.zone avatar

Yeah, when I was diagnosed with DID

datavoid ,

You are absolutely not alone in this… I have these moments frequently. I’m also fairly sure that level of parenting is also quite uncommon.

This made me cry, btw

BaroqueInMind ,

Children are people, so consent and respect goes really far when raising mentally balanced people.

Zozano ,
@Zozano@lemy.lol avatar

“Have you ever realised just how broken you are?”

This question implies the experience of some kind of epiphany, but I’ve had a life-long keen awareness of exactly how fucked up I am as a result of having a shitty father.

My longest held ambition was to be a better father than my father was.

skulblaka ,
@skulblaka@sh.itjust.works avatar

Yep. I respect my father in as much as he gave me a shining example of what not to be if I want to respect myself. I would be a different person without that “guidance”.

jonc211 ,

So I deleted the story before I posted it, and began to realize that even though I’m 40, and should be past all this, it still hurts, and I’m a deeply broken person.

The thing about trauma (and it likely is trauma) is that it often just doesn’t go away on its own and you need to do work on it. So, why should you be over it?

Should is a loaded word as it pretty much always comes from what you learned as a child. You should do that. You should be like this.

That “should” probably comes from your father when he told you how you should be as a child.

It sounds like you aren’t over it now, but that’s ok. It’s ok not to be over stuff that happened in childhood. But the important thing to understand is that you can get over it with work. Being aware of that is the first step on that road.

meekah ,
@meekah@lemmy.world avatar

I wanted to write pretty much what you did, but you did so perfectly already.

Generational trauma is a bitch.

MajorHavoc ,

Well said!

I want to highlight this, in case someone read fast and skipped it:

It’s ok not to be over stuff that happened in childhood.

It’s so important to give ourselves permission to not be okay.

AngryPancake ,

100%

TacoEvent ,

I had a similar relationship with my father. He was an alcoholic. These days I don’t have much of a relationship with him. I recognize that he’s a better person now that he’s older, but I don’t really see him as “dad”. Just “father”.

My mom sometimes asks if I will regret not spending more time with him. Honestly, I’m not sure I would. I don’t have many fond memories with him at all. It’s weird saying this knowing that I have a father who loves me in his own way when others might not have one at all.

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