Childhood roots

It all feels like it’s coming back—like I’m slowly opening up... remembering more things that surely defined who I am today.

A teacher from the music school I attended during elementary school. A predator. He was touching me almost every single lesson for nearly five years.
And I actually got lucky, I guess. I finally managed to convince my mom at the end of elementary school that I didn't want to go to music school anymore. It was a stroke of luck that her sister was visiting us and said, "Why should she keep going if she hates it?" (I don't know how to ever thank her enough—if I ever get the chance).

During high school, I didn't have boyfriends at all—they were a foreign concept to me. They just seemed disgusting and warped. Back then, I probably would have preferred sleeping with a woman (though I didn't).

Afterward, I fell in love. Sex was—naturally—an alien concept to me, and frankly, I was terrified. But I finally reached that point. And I love it.

Though, God knows how many times I’ve burst into tears during sex... it’s been intense. He didn't hate me for it, though—he loved me, held me, tried to comfort me. I just have no clue why it happens. It’s perhaps too much love for my heart to actually process. So, I cry. Just too many emotions—the kind I've always needed, yet always lacked. Still, I’m struggling. I end up creating issues around sex, which really should be one of life's greatest joys, shouldn't it?
The real issue is relaxing. I can't. If only I could find more understanding and patience—maybe things would be easier. Right now, they aren't.

Alright ladies—it’s interesting how few men actually show up to discuss these things—anybody want to suggest a good psychologist? I'm looking for social therapy mainly, though maybe private practice could work too; I'll see.

I'm based in New York City, so if you know anyone truly "competent"—because I really have no desire to deal with secondary trauma caused by amateurs—please send recommendations my way.

Are there other types of therapies or workshops out there? I don't know... I'm completely out of the loop on this stuff.

Thanks 🙂

Just head over to your primary care doctor, and they can give you a referral for a psychiatrist or go straight to a psychotherapist. With that referral, you’ve got plenty of options to choose from wherever you want.
People say the social workers at Microsoft are the best.
Good luck!👍

If you're nervous about therapy, just think of it like a conversation on a forum.

The first time I posted here in an anxiety thread, I was actually shaking all day after hitting send.

I used to be just like you—completely closed off, bottling everything up and pretending nothing was wrong. But there were plenty of issues, much like yours. Sexual struggles were the biggest one. Believe me, though, it gets better. It did for me. Now, I actually enjoy intimacy more than I ever thought possible. It wasn't that I didn't like it before, but there was just too much mental clutter keeping me from relaxing. I struggled with my self-image and felt like I wasn't good enough at anything. Deep down, I knew there was something trapped inside me just waiting to be set free.

Betty Rivera14 said:Personally, it doesn't bother me at all that you're using a different handle—it’s not like I actually know who vividmarlin5 is... and honestly, even if what you're saying isn't strictly true, it wouldn't matter to me, provided it helps someone reflect on their own life while reading our occasional 🙂
discussions.

There was this one time where, after posting, I had to go outside for a bit—just to keep from succumbing to the urge to delete everything I wrote... but I knew I just HAD to get it out of my system.
It’s incredibly difficult carrying a weight like that for years... far too much... and then you just sink even deeper every time life drops a new burden on you.

And why should anyone care if someone uses a pseudonym? I’m just happy I managed to vent this, even if it's through a screen like this. Besides, you're right—even a lie could be useful if it helps someone else along the way.
🙂

Sandra Wilson38 said:The whole "hiding your username" thing should be the least of your worries, I suppose.
Maybe if you worked on those biases against doctors first—once those fade, the anxiety might actually subside and your confidence might return.
Forget the nickname!👍

Oh, you're just wonderful. You really had me laughing there... forget the nickname! 🙂

Well, you're entitled to your opinion, I guess.
😉

Sandra Wilson38 said:Just head to your primary care physician—they'll give you a referral for a psychiatrist or maybe even a therapist right away. Once you have that paperwork, you can go wherever you want.
People say the social workers at Microsoft are supposedly the best.
Good luck!👍

As for my doctor—every single time I ask for a referral, I apparently have to recount my entire life story just to get her to sign off on it. I guess I’m never quite sure what to tell her when I'm asking for a psychiatrist or a therapist. Maybe she doesn't ask anything, or maybe she does... who knows! And don't even get me started on her nurse. She seems to think she needs to know every detail and stick her nose into every single file she touches. 😢

Anyway, Sandra Wilson38, thanks for the advice and the support. 🙂

If you aren't happy with her, find a new doctor.

Having a reliable primary care physician is a fundamental necessity... if you actually had a rapport where you could speak candidly, she probably would have given you the same advice herself.

Betty Rivera14 said:If you aren't happy with her, just find a new doctor.

Having a good, reliable GP is essential... if you actually felt comfortable being honest with her, she probably would have referred you herself.

Exactly.
It’s literally her job to make those referrals... that's what we pay them for!

feralbear49 said:The way people talk on this forum is pretty much what therapy feels like, if you're feeling nervous about it...

When I first posted here, it was in an anxiety thread, and honestly, I spent the whole day shaking after hitting send on that first post.

I used to be just like you—completely closed off, bottling everything up inside and pretending none of my problems even existed. But there were so many, just like yours, especially when it came to intimacy. And believe me, things can change. They did for me. Now, I enjoy sex more than I ever thought possible. It’s not that I didn’t like it before, it was just that there were too many layers of tension, and I couldn't figure out why I just couldn't relax. I didn't love myself or my body, and I constantly felt like I wasn't good enough at anything. But deep down, I knew there was something stuck inside me that just needed to be set free...

I totally get it...

I remember going to my primary care doctor to ask for a referral to a psychologist, and when he asked me why, I could barely get the words out. I was crying my eyes out, and the poor guy looked so uncomfortable, telling me, "It's okay, don't cry, there's no problem here," and then he gave me the number for his close friend, a specialist with thirty years of experience. He was such a kind man, and I'll always be grateful because every time I see him, no matter why I'm there, he always checks in to see how I'm doing...

Then, when I had my first actual session and had to go into all those details I couldn't tell my doctor, it was incredibly hard. I fought so hard not to cry, but the tears just kept coming while I talked through everything—even though I hadn't cried like that in years. My therapist just told me not to hold back, that letting it all out is actually healthy...

When I finally got home that day, I was in a bit of a trance for the rest of the afternoon...

I had absolutely no strength left in my body...

But I felt this strange sense of relief, and I remember thinking to myself, "It's started, there's no turning back now, the road ahead is going to be really tough, but I'm finally getting my life back..."

That was the moment I realized just how much power the mind has over our physical health...

It's much stronger than any of us can truly imagine...

So just stay brave, vividmarlin5... that first step is always the hardest, but the reward is far too great to let fear hold you back from taking it...

Thank you all SO much for the support. I'll head over to my primary care doctor and ask for a referral—it’s not like they’re going to bite my head off.

It isn't that I don't think they'll give me the referral—it's just that I'm still feeling this overwhelming fear and shame, since I've always been the type to keep everything bottled up. For me, it feels like a massive victory just to finally speak up about this after spending quite a while lurking on this forum—even if I am using a different handle.
I honestly thought I had grown stronger—that my insecurities were behind me and nothing could shake my confidence anymore. Clearly, I was wrong. Someone entered my life and completely dismantled that illusion. I guess I'm back at square one.
But I'm trying not to view this as a setback—instead, maybe it's a step forward. I'm glad this person showed up, really. At least I’ve finally stopped running and looked the problem right in the eye. It's something—anything—more than what I've done in the past. Life isn't just black and white, after all; I spent so much time lying to myself, thinking I was "tough" and that things could never get this bad again.
Now I can actually deal with the root cause—being aware of the issue and slowly working through it. 🙂

vividmarlin5, you made the right call. Once you actually start speaking up, you’ll realize how much more people connect with you—honestly, once you find your voice, half the battle is already won.

Sandra Moore is rooting for you and keeping her fingers crossed for you here.😉

Sandra Moore said:Sandra Moore loves you and is crossing her fingers for you.😉

🙂 🙂
Thanks.

I can relate, unfortunately. I went through all of that—my father's alcoholism, the constant harassment, the fighting... just this overwhelming sense of loneliness, fear, and shame. It leaves a mark. You lose your confidence, you stop trusting people, and you start getting a little paranoid.
I tried to deal with it by following some advice from my former boss. When I first started working, he noticed something was off. It was the first time I actually opened up to someone, and he told me straight: this is about your parents, their marriage, and the life they lived. He said, "You need to get out, distance yourself, and save yourself." So, I did. I moved away, though that doesn't mean I've magically fixed everything. I still struggle with what happened, but being independent helped me stay busy with other things. My father passed away 13 years ago now, but even then, thinking back on my childhood and my youth... it still brings up this anger and sadness.
Still, there is so much good waiting for you in this life that it's worth the fight.
Seek help without feeling any shame at all. You aren't to blame for any of this, and please, don't bottle it all up. Talk openly with your friends because, trust me, everyone is dealing with their own issues, whether they show it or not.
I really want you to find true happiness. 👍

I’m writing this because last night was one of those emotionally devastating evenings—not so much for me, but for my sister, who is also slowly falling apart at the seams.
I’ve been pretty numb lately, so I cry less often, though the depression doesn't really subside.
As children of alcoholics, we are emotionally scarred—full of silent screams and an intense craving for kind words or gestures that simply never arrive. It will take a lifetime for these wounds to heal, but we are still trapped in this environment, living day by day, just hoping that today isn't the final day before we somehow become "normal." And while we drift through life like this, finding any sense of purpose feels almost impossible. We can't exactly run away, because this is the only home we have.
We need psychological help (which I am finally starting next week, and I hope it helps not just me, but all of us eventually) so we don't completely snap from living with a sick, addicted person who refuses to seek help—someone who can't even see their own problem. My father would sooner die than admit he’s an alcoholic or take any actual steps to fix it. Seriously.
Mom is "blind"—she doesn't see the issue, she just closes her eyes and maintains this perfect illusion of a family for the outside world. She had us because, in her mind, abortion is a sin. She never once considered the kind of world she was bringing children into, or what kind of lives they would lead, what kind of father they would endure, or what kind of future they might even be able to build for themselves.
Having one child is one thing, maybe even two, but having a third or fourth just because of religious convictions regarding abortion? I’m glad to be alive and functioning—however broken I may be—but my sister told Mom yesterday that she would have preferred to be aborted if she had known life would be like this.
I still have no idea how to help everyone, honestly. For now, I haven't even figured out how to help myself; or rather, I haven't reached that stage yet. I'll start eventually and just hope for the best. I can't afford to falter anymore, because as someone on this forum once said, "everything comes back to haunt you." And I'll be the only one paying the price—with my health. Though, I suppose I'm already paying for it to some extent, but I don't want it to get any worse.
Money is almost always tight at home, mostly because Dad spends nearly everything on himself—specifically, on booze. After the alcohol, the bills come first, and then food; questions directed toward his own children—like "Do you have what you need?" or "Do you have money for lunch?" or "Do you have boots for winter?" or "Is your coat warm enough?"—simply don't exist in his mental landscape. He never, ever asks.

My sister is (so far) the only person in the entire family to make it into college, but yesterday she was on campus from 7 a.m. until 9 p.m. And what did she eat that day? Nothing. She managed to scrounge together twenty cents here and there at school just to scrape together ninety cents for a chocolate milk. Meanwhile, the old man at home is buying Aspen. And two cartons of cigarettes every single day. It doesn't matter if her head is spinning from hunger; as long as there are cigarettes and alcohol available, he's fine. And when she finally worked up the courage to mention it—that she was literally begging for change—he just told her to move into a dorm.
And Mom, being oblivious and "blind," keeps preaching about respecting your parents—in this case, our father. How is one supposed to respect someone who ruins your life on a daily basis? I know we need to get out of this environment, but unfortunately, we have nowhere to go right now. We are just trying to choose the lesser of two evils. She tries to be a good mother, tries to be gentle... but she "doesn't see." She completely forgets what she put us through and how she treated us back when we weren't even capable of standing up for ourselves.

This is just where I am right now. Obviously, I don't like it, and I know there are better ways to be. I was supposed to see a therapist this week, but even after I scheduled the appointment, I didn't go. I got scared and withdrew. I feel pathetic and empty; nothing brings me joy. Actually, I felt like I was starting to recover a few days ago, but yesterday brought such ugly things that I'm right back at square one. Or, as Betty Rivera14 says, "the skeletons are coming out." God, they are certainly coming out...

Lately—and this is hitting me hard again—it’s the sheer lack of empathy from people who actually know about my "situation." I try my best not to be a burden—really, I do—but to open up about the hardest thing in my life to someone I actually care about... someone I thought cared back... only to be misunderstood and judged? It just doesn't compute. Maybe my approach is flawed—I guess.

I mean, everyone drinks these days. I have a drink too—it's not like I'm making a mountain out of a molehill—but it eats at me. It eats at my soul that someone could, despite whatever feelings they have for me, fail to grasp HOW MUCH THIS HURTS. Just zero heart—no empathy, no attempt to understand the pain. It’s as if my feelings simply don't matter.

If they could just ask themselves one of these questions:
"How is she doing today? How is things at home? Is her father giving her a hard time? What is he saying to her? How is she taking it? How much is it affecting her? Does the smell of alcohol bother her? Does the vacant look in his eyes and the foolishness bother her? Does it remind her of him? Does she need help? Does she even know how to ask for it?" And so much more...

I suppose this has become my little emotional corner...
I'm glad I have a place to share this—even if it's painful and anonymous. Anonymous for now—I feel this urge to scream my actual name, but for now, nothing.

It’s almost as if you’re recounting my own life story... hmm... perhaps I was the one who wrote this back when I was still a lost cause. 😕

The parental shouting matches, the constant struggle to make ends meet... does any of that actually matter? Not really. What matters is the lasting imprint those things left on my soul.

For as long as I can remember... I’ve been the black sheep—strange, depressed, perpetually anxious... especially whenever I found myself in a new environment. I lack the ability to simply "switch off," so I suffer through it all. It’s all quite easy enough to write down, I suppose... truly incredible.

Today... well, today I am not quite that person anymore... though I am still pretty much a wreck because of everything that went down. And I believe—deep down—that one day, perhaps even my own children will feel a shadow of it through me... regardless of how hard I fight against it. It is just how it works... when you are deprived of something as a child... even if you spend your entire adult life trying to compensate for it... there is no chance... that scar remains forever.

But then, what is the point of living, or moving forward, if it all just lingers? Because we, too, will leave someone behind. It is good that we learned the lesson; it is good that we grasp the things our parents clearly failed to see... it is good to remain constantly vigilant... to ensure that the past doesn't hit us too hard... doesn't disturb us... doesn't stop us... even though avoiding it entirely is simply impossible.

Why was I that way... toward everyone? Why was I the black sheep? Well, because... if you want to get to know someone, to have friends, a partner... whatever it is... you have to open up. You have to be careful, show affection, show trust... but how on earth am I supposed to do that when I don't know how? I never learned. I never received it. I don't even know what it is... so I would rather just retreat into myself... to prevent others from hurting me the same way. If my own parents didn't care about me... if they wouldn't give me love or attention... then who would? Some random guy I meet? Some girl I take a liking to? Why should they, if my own parents wouldn't? And so, I allowed them to screw me over—and it went far beyond just my father's drinking and the endless arguments—I became an emotional freak... trusting no one... living inside myself... constructing a private world for my own sake. A world where I spent most of my time. A world where I was alone... yet had my own peace... my own love... my own attention. And even though it was beautiful... it was still... just... an imaginary world. There was supposed to be a return to reality one day, and I should have prepared for it... but how? When I know nothing... when I am so fundamentally broken?

vividmarlin5... you mentioned that you admire people who can just approach someone without any issues or nerves and start a conversation. I am asking you for just one example of such a person—someone you know who is like that—because I don't know a single soul... I have never met anyone... because there is always something... always.
Regarding the idea of admiring people because they have plenty of friends and acquaintances and everyone seems fine! You, unfortunately, only have a few people you can actually trust... what a misguided way of thinking... absolutely... cccccc...
I don't admire people with heaps of friends in the slightest, because at that point, they aren't friends; they are just acquaintances. It is impossible for every single one of them to actually help you when you need it. From those kinds of "friends"... I guarantee you none of them will be there. How is it even possible to be "okay" with everyone? Only if you are a social climber or a manipulator... and if you don't actually feel anything. Why? We are different, aren't we? And even if I said... that this forum... on the American web... well, even for that, you could find people who would say something entirely different... because everyone is different... and... if I differ so much in my views from them... I won't be with them. How should I put this... I am proud to have only a handful of friends I can confide in... because I know they listen... they understand... and they actually want to help me. I am certain of my friends... whereas you, with your crowds... you aren't even certain of yourself, let alone anyone else... to put it bluntly... it's garbage. I have zero respect for anyone who claims to have a massive circle of friends... that's it... that's my stance. There is no debate here for me! Because we are humans just like any other... aggregate... because... we all draw energy from one another. If you have a mountain of friends... where are you getting the energy to give one hundred percent to all of them? Which means you aren't giving one hundred percent, so what kind of friends are they? And does that also mean... that they aren't giving it to you? Of course they aren't!!!

The shame you feel is indescribable... it's about something you were denied—something no one else can give you anymore... why does that bring you shame? Why didn't your parents provide that for you? What exactly are you supposed to be ashamed of? If you were a criminal... if you were an addict... if you were a liar or a cheat... then yes, carry that shame. But if you aren't... then there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Because... the act of opening up... is what actually opens you up. You don't want to talk about this with others because, frankly, you don't trust anyone yet—and that's the core of it. You didn't receive trust from your own family, so you don't know how to extend it to anyone else. It isn't that you won't; it’s just your defense mechanism. I'm sitting here on this forum talking about all of this now... but just a few years ago... I wouldn't have told you what I had for breakfast, let alone this, because of how closed off I was. And when you finally start talking... and you cry for hours... just cry. Let it out. That is communication... with a true friend. But... I have to circle back to people who have dozens of friends... do you really think all those "friends" would sit there for hours listening to you sob? God, please... once you've emptied yourself... once the tears run dry... that's when the flood of words comes. Believe me. You just... you need to find that specific person. Someone who will... understand you. And we are back to... to what? To damn trust. How can you give it if you don't know how? Well... damn it... you have to. You simply must. Just make sure you don't give it to the wrong person... but you have to. Even if others didn't teach you... teach yourself. Improve yourself. Surprising yourself...

As for love... uh... that is a very broken topic... deeply broken... eh... I need to pause here and actually think about it...

Ehm... I am having trouble with that today... it's not rare for me to be cold toward others... just out of nowhere... even in love... which isn't ideal... but I'm learning... I suppose...

Because of everything, I will never again give anyone 100%... I just can't... some part of me has to remain my own... that's what life taught me... that's how I learned to be... and I don't know any better... eh... I could write a book on love and this whole mess. I'm not some extremist... nor anything else for that matter... but the foundation of everything is trust. Trusting in someone's love. Which is incredibly hard... damn hard... but I don't know any other way... unless you simply force yourself to give... maybe not a hundred percent... but say, 99%... And you say you had a boyfriend who tolerated you... and he reminded you too much of home?? Well... there lies the massive problem. Because... this might sound crazy... but I realized this for myself... I still seek out that unrest... because that is how I perceived love when I was a child. That is how I subconsciously process love. How would I explain it? Hm... you can't explain it... it's pathological... and we are all like that together... all of us! No exceptions! You finally found a guy who actually felt something for you, and then you stopped!! Wasn't that what you were looking for? Strange, isn't it? I mean, damn, I don't even know how to put this, but it's as if you subconsciously think his love isn't "real" because you learned a different definition of love... and now that's what you chase. All of this happens unconsciously... and it's what we struggle against...
And your mother was right... these are things that, if you don't resolve them... they will haunt you for your entire life. How do you change something that has been rooted in you since childhood? Good question! Personally, I don't think it can be changed, because that is who you are—you are a product of your past, whatever it may have been. That is essentially what makes you the person you are. So... don't torture yourself trying to change it... because you can't. But you can change the things in your life... the things that make you happy... and the things that don't. And by doing that... something within you will shift. Live a positive life... and you will feel positive. Be useful... be good... be constructive... and it will all reflect back on you. Simply... try being a child again. Find your old toys... play with them. Give yourself a chance. Be a child... call out what wasn't right. As for other people... most don't want to hear about problems. Most don't. Because they don't give a damn about you or your issues. But there are people who love you... those few real friends. They love you... and they have to listen... even if they can't specifically help. And that *is* the help. Having a support system... having someone who watches over you and supports you...

What we ate yesterday... we'll be shitting out today.

Tony... looking back at how we carried ourselves yesterday... well, if we don't change our tune, today is going to be a carbon copy of that mess.

We can’t go back and rewrite yesterday—that ship has sailed—but we actually have some agency over what happens today... provided we use it to make tomorrow a little less grim.

There is absolutely no sense in wasting our energy lamenting yesterday's failures; if we keep dwelling on the past, we’ll just find ourselves doing the exact same thing tomorrow.

Let's stop the endless complaining right now and actually start living for tomorrow.

Hey Bob Roman,
here's just another guy in this crowd of women offering a perspective on what you're going through. Even if we don't see eye to eye, I figure a few different viewpoints can't hurt.
I'm not sure if you're still keeping up with the replies here, but regardless...
Maybe you're already seeing someone? If not, I just wanted to offer some advice regarding therapy. I know how pricey private practice can get, but at a place like NYU, there are psychologists who work with people for free and get incredible results. They aren't "social psychologists" like you mentioned—I know that for two reasons. First, my girlfriend is a psychologist, and second, I was a skeptic myself until I listened to her and finally sorted out my own issues.
My situation was nowhere near as heavy as yours, but it felt significant enough at the time. I'm a musician (sorry if music brings back bad memories) and I teach pedagogy while performing classical music. Truly sorry for what you went through... if you don't mind me asking, did you attend that school downtown with the professor in glasses?
I really do hope you find some peace. It would be nice to hear how you're doing later on... and if there's any way I can help by connecting you with some professionals, just say the word.
anonymous ;o)

Yeah, I read the posts—whenever there actually are any.

It’s been so quiet lately, it’s almost hard to believe someone actually posted something.

Thanks so much for the advice regarding the therapist. I hadn't even considered the whole thing about the liberal arts degree.
I haven't started the sessions yet—mostly because my schedule was a mess, though now that things are settling down, I can finally afford it.
As for music school, unfortunately, the memories are pretty grim—but even so, music is still my life, and I can't bring myself to regret the good parts (despite all the bad).

Thank you so much for this post; you have no idea how much it means to me.

Let me know if there's anything I can do to help. I'm not sure what they call it at the philosophy department, but getting an appointment there isn't exactly rocket science. Besides, they’ll point you in the right direction and figure out a plan for you. Based on everything I've been reading from you... you aren't crazy. You don't need a psychiatrist. You just have some very solvable issues. You just need someone you can trust, a little self-belief, and some patience. That's really it. Everything is fixable. Plus, as far as I know, our mental health system here in the States is a total joke. They just bleed you dry, and the people working the insurance claims basically sleep through their shifts while screwing over patients. It's ridiculous. Honestly, I trust psychologists a lot more. I know a few through my girlfriend and could ask around for you if you want. No big deal.
By the way... about the music. If I'm being honest, I think you might be associating certain songs with bad memories. What kind of jerk is that professor anyway? You didn't mention if he was one of those guys from the Berklee College of Music crowd, but it doesn't matter.
Please, just try to enjoy the music. Not every musician is a predator.
Keep me posted on how you're doing and how life is going. You seem like a good person, you know?
That's all for now.