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Hi all, this is first post here - I am looking for advise from like - minded peope who have been in similar situation. Any tips are greatly appreciated. Thank you. It's been a year since I have been in thereapy and discovered FreedomainRadio - it's been the best year of my life and I never felt more alive. However, with self knowledge come dealing with toxic people in my life (including my family). Especially dealing with my parents is tough and I woudl be greatful for your support and insight. Here is some background that I think is important: My father: he was brought up in communist era, his mother was working since he was 3 months-old and he was put into a daycare ever since. His parents cared about him, but didnt really know him. They preised him for his academic and sport achievements. He always had to be him + some sort of success. There was verbal abuse in the family. Financially, they were doing really well and had a good socio-ekonomic status in their society. My father is very inteligent and succesfull man, however he struggles with proximity. If there is important topic to discuss, he often gets annoyed and agressive - he must win the discussion. He is not used to negotiate in peaceful way. Lately he tries, but the topic / issue is not opened unless someone else brings it up. My mother: was born into family with 8 other children (she was the youngest). Her family was very poor and abusive to the point that my mother was taken away from them (not sure at what age exactly but I think she was about 4-7). Since then she grew up in a childcare facilities. Until this day I am not sure how bad her abuse was (I am aware that she had been beaten / had had cigarete burns and I am not sure if the abuse was of sexuall nature as well, but its possible). She doesnt like to talk about anything realted to her early childhood before she was taken away from her family. She also claims that her past is not important because she is not in touch with her parents or siblings (note, that we have never met or seen any of them and I think she hasnt seen them since she was a teenager). She says that she had a great time in those childcare facilities! and that it has not affected her at all! Its hard to get any sort of inforamtion from her about her past. She can not admit she is/was wrong in anything- ever. Its very difficult for her to apologize. My mother always cared about me and my siblings in terms of having enought food, clean clothes, playing with us and preparing us for school, however, this lasted only until we became teenagers and had our own opinions and created our own personality. She had no idea how to deal with us once we were not dependent infants. She cant deal with anoyone disagreeing with her. The relationship of my parents wasn't good. Their argues got rather agressive, they were not able to communicate and solve issues and in addition, they were cheating on each other. They got divorced eventually (I was 13 at that time). The divorce was not discussed very much and we simply moved out with our mother. My father paid child support and we saw him every other weekend (or more) - he was happy in his new relationship (woman he later married and are still together). In the meantime, the situation home with my mother escalated. Our mother was very nervous and constantly complaining about not having enough money. We started to argue a lot - at one point she told me she hated me and that I was the same as my father (mind: the man she married and had 3 children with)! She started to physically attack me - this confuse me a lot, it seems the parents stop hitting their children when they grow up, but she started to beat me when I was 13 - 15. At that time I knew I could attahk her back but I was afraid that I woudl hurt her! Obviously, she didnt have the same concern about hurting me. Seeing how little empathy she had towards me really hurts my feelings. I havent had much contact with my mother since I was 19 (its about 10 years of very little contact / close to none). Last time I talked to her was about 5 months ago and I tried to discuss what I learned in therapy. She eventually apologized, but it wasnt genuine and she keeps saying I just need to move forward and dont bring the past up. She is quite a bully and doesnt want to work on herself. In her mind, something is wrong with me to bring issues from the past up. I never said anything to my father about the beating and argues with my mother. I think deep down I knew he wouldnt get involved to fix it. Recently I told him and his answer was quite shocking - he said: "I thought something was going on between you and your mother"! He didnt know how bad it was, but he didnt even ask! This makes me angry. On one hand, i woudl like to have relationship with at least one parent but on the other, how can you not care about your children when they are being hurt? My father has done some work on himself and he is able and willing to discuss things. He will be comming over soon. I woudl like discuss it with him. Do you think I am hypocrat for talking to my father but not my mother? Does any of you have similar issue and how you approached it? Did this sort of discussion helped you? Thank you so much - any feedback welcomed.

The monsters inside us and how they get there. Why do targets stay with narcissistic abusers? Why do people stay in contact with abusive family members?

Every once in a while, targets who have gone no contact with their family of origin will start daydreaming and remembering the “happy good times” with the narcissist in their family. Well, I’m here to remind you that those were not fun, happy times. Those were disgusting, humiliating times. Those were very sad times. Self-Knowledge Daily — Doing the daily work of knowing who we are, and creating the conversation we want to see in the world. Search the growing archive of articles and videos by topic on our website. Follow us on Twitter and Facebook http://selfknowledgedaily.weebly.com/about.html

Most of us have years of experience being dependent on abusive caregivers. As children, this is not chosen, but a consequence of being small, fragile, and powerless. However as adults, I believe it is a choice to remain dependent on abusive former-caregivers. I think there is reason why we are influenced to make this decision to remain dependent. I will speak primarily of my own experience in this regard. I have had over two decades of experience being financially and emotionally dependent on my abusive mother. A primary theme in our relationship has been verbal and physical conflict. This was present from my earliest memories, and persists today. There are more than a handful of these conflicts that I can look back on and say "I cannot imagine how this could have gotten worse." I feel I have "seen it all" when it comes to the extremes of how a conflict could escalate between us. What comes with this two-decade long experience is a certain set of skills. I have enormously more experience managing abuse than I have had developing any other skill. Therefore, despite being traumatic and emotionally unhealthy, my continued chosen exposure to abuse contains a vast familiarity, predictability, and ability to manage. And what is worse, the development of these skills has come at a huge cost of developing the opposite skills necessary to flourish in a life without abuse - some of which are negotiation, patience, sobriety, and mindfulness. Therefore, I feel that abuse is predictable, and can therefore seem comfortable and alluring, while a rejection of abuse is unpredictable, challenging, and therefore uncomfortable and frightening. TL;DR My question is this: what is your experience in manifesting the courage needed to reject and move on from a state of dependency on abusive care-givers? What precautions did you take? How did you manage the anxiety? Did your independence come slowly, or did you make deliberate, powerful decisions which you knew would make you very uncomfortable in the short term for the benefit of the long term? I personally want to move on from my state of dependency, but I realize the allure of being comfortable can distort my decisions and my plans to become independent. I am wondering what time horizon I should expect of myself, whether I make rapid decisions to leave my abuse ASAP, or whether I should take relatively more time to make sure when I leave, that I will be able to sustain myself for good. Any personal experiences you share are much appreciated.

So I'm currently trying to DeFOO but I'm not sure how to go about it. I remember Stefan mentioning a few times that talking to your parents about your childhood is very helpful but to be honest, I couldn't be bothered. I've been seeing a therapist for over a year and we're discussing the options of either writing a letter to them or confronting them in person. Let me give you some background to better understand my situation. I'll try to keep it short: I have an ACE score of 7. I've never been close to my parents and they've never taken any interest in me, the youngest, or my 3 other brothers. We've never, ever had a meaningful conversation as far as I know - it's only ever superficial like "how's work?" or "how's the weather?". I think I've been depressed most of my life. School was hell with being bullied about my weight, feeling like an alien and my mother managed to make things worse. In my teens I was self-harming, almost committed suicide, became a truant and eventually moved out at 17 when I graduated from the shit pit that was high school. I was really messed up at 17 but getting away from home was probably the smartest thing I've ever done. My childhood: I have a lot of memories of violence in my family. My two eldest brothers are around 10 years my senior and I have memories of my father beating the shit out of them and choking them against the wall while my mother screamed and threw plates. With the rest of my siblings, I was spanked and hit on a regular basis; anything from once a week to once a month. Until I was 17 I suppressed the memories of being sexually abused at around 5 or 6 by my second eldest brother (Let's call him Dave). Only recently I started remembering more details of sadistic behaviour from Dave, such as pinning me to the ground and spitting in my face while I screamed, or he would pick me up by the ankles and purposely swing me around close to the wall of our house outside, making me believe he was trying to smash my face in, or even kill me. My parents blamed me for his behaviour by saying shit like "you shouldn't be playing with him then". As for the sexual abuse, my parents knew about it. I have a memory where my mother walked in on Dave manipulating me to touch him inappropriately and she didn't do anything about it. Instead she pretended nothing was wrong and even thought that leaving me in Dave's care ALONE was an okay thing to do. Recently I realised that I started piling on weight and started a very long war with eating disorders after the sexual abuse. In my teens my mother saw the scars on my arm from self-harming and instead of talking to me or getting me help, she pointed an accusatory finger at me and, of course, I would completely shut down and lock myself in my room. If she heard me crying in my room, she would get angry. I spent the next 10 years moving further and further away. My parents live in the arse-crack of nowhere in south-west Ireland and I ended up moving to the Netherlands 4 and a half years ago. I spent the past 10 years feeling guilty about not seeing my family enough and spent a lot of money on travelling back and forth. Not once have my parents bothered to visit me, and they never had a mortgage and don't have any debt as far as I know. I have thought about confronting them in person but at this point I don't see why I should spend so much time and money and resources on people who never loved me and never protected me. I know for sure that I will never get a satisfying answer and I will never be able to repair this relationship. Am I justified in just writing them just a letter telling them that I never want contact again? The idea of confronting them physically is terrifying so I sometimes wonder if I am just chickening out or not? I've thought about calling into the show but I feel like I'm all over the place and I would just be wasting Stefan and Mike's time. Thanks in advance and sorry for the lack of structure in my post. I'm having a hard time putting my thoughts and feelings together.

Does anyone have any experience dealing with psychological and social neglect from families of origin? There is a lot of discussion about overt abuse on these forums, but negligence seems more difficult to pin down and achieve any kind of certainty. I've been trying to discuss my longstanding childhood social isolation and drugging (Ritalin, antidepressants, and the occasional sedative) with my parents and younger sibling, and they've mainly been saying "We did the best we could with the information we had", "We don't understand why you're so upset", and "It's your biology" lines with me. I feel enraged and contempt towards my parents, and disappointed in my sibling. They have never asked me any unprompted questions or done any research on the topics that I brought up. My father compared the show to a cult and me to an actual mass shooter in the news last year (I have never shown any inclinations towards violence). The drugs seemed to have made me dissociated and caused problems with my short term memory, the latter of which affected me into my late twenties. I also had the social skills of a child when I went away to college at the age of 18, and it took me many years to learn how to make friends and get a date. I have also struggled with finding my footing career wise. Despite bringing these topics up with my therapist and girlfriend, I still feel a bit of doubt as to what's going on. I'm mostly leaning towards saying "fuck them all" with regards to my immediate family, but would that be a failure to take responsibility for my life in some way? I'm now in my early 30's, so I've obviously been responsible for my decisions for a number of years now. I am making great progress in my social and romantic life, and am training in a new career that shows promise. It's just my family that is really bothering me at present, and some outside perspective might help in finally putting this to rest. I know this might be a bit general, but I'll elaborate as necessary if anyone wants any specifics.

What We Lose, and Gain, When a Family Separates Imagine that... DeFOOing is proper. As a person that did my best to DeFoo many years ago, prior to knowing what it was, I've been offended by those that believe that no matter what you stick with your family.

Didn't find this elsewhere posted, was quite surprised that this article supports DeFOOing. The Debt

A while back I had the idea to compile a playlist of songs with a philosophical bent and that had meaning to me. As the list grew I divided it into four parts: 1) Anarchy; 2) Atheism; 3) Defoo; 4) Virtue. Below is the first part, and I'll be posting the others before the year's end. I hope this music brings a tiny bit of joy into your day. https://8tracks.com/mdrake88/philosophy-playlist-part-1-of-4-anarchy "I started this playlist series because sometimes music can speak louder than arguments. The first part contains songs relating to power and anarchy. The progression from beginning to end is one that mirrors my own journey from self-described conservative to political libertarian to philosophical anarcho-capitalist."

The second interview with Daniel Mackler. Here, we talk about the topic of relationships: one's template for relationships, friendship, romantic relationship, sex, boundaries, parent-child relationship, and much more!

I posted Steph's video about Robin Williams and my cousin posted a "::jerking off::" motion in my comments. I feel so angry that being Anarcho-Capitalist means friends and family refuse to debate and would rather attack my character than discuss or defend the opposite positions. The implications mean I lose more and more of my old circle but then I realize I never had friends to begin with and I feel sadness and anger that I had ever had loyalty to people when they end up just having a lack of compassion like my mother is with me. I have anxiety because during the holidays I will see my cousin and I don't want to see my family now.

Hi there!I have been listening to FDR since 2009 and been into selfknowledge and therapy since 2010. In september 2013, I deFOO'ed. Now I am almost completely lonely, certainly if you count deep and comitted realtionships.I have recently run into a major snag on my journey and I don't really have anyone to talk about it with. I used to see a therapist, but I've since left my home country and am living on very litmited means in my continnued effort to self-actualise.I figure this must be a pretty common situation for FDR members who leave all their bad relationships, but don't immediately find good new ones. Is there any kind of FDR support group for us, I haven't been hanging around the board much so I don't know what the usual procedures look like.Kind Regards,Victor

I graduated university about a year ago and deFOOed a few months ago. l now have no one in my life which I never thought would be such a problem considering how introverted I tend to default to. Until all of this became a reality though I had never realized how important others were in my life, even if they are corrupt, or statist, or religious, or boring. The only thing I truly enjoy in my day is the podcast, listening to at least two or even up to eight on my days off. I've just gotten a good job and am busting my hump trying to save up for therapy. In the meantime, I cry just about everyday for an hour or two, and hard. This has become a serious problem as I work 14 hours a day and I need to stay friendly and pleasant to customers. It's all commission based so if I'm not at the top of my game I'm not making the money I need for therapy in the first place. I do my best to get it all out in the morning or night but half of the time I end up needing to hide in the bathroom and try to keep my weeping as quiet as possible. Has anyone been in a similar situation or have any advice for what to do until I can afford therapy?

Hi, this is my first post on the board, and have been listening to FDR since Stef first did the Joe Rogan podcast back in September. I’ve gained a lot from it so far, but I think its been made clear to me that the road ahead is a life long ride so I’m strapped in but right now I’ve got a flat and a spare with no tire iron or jack. I’m feeling very anxious as I’m writing this, and a little nervous. WHOO, here goes nothing… My name is Louis, I’m 20 years old, currently living in northern San Diego, CA, USA. I moved here just 13 months ago from Staten Island, New York, where I was born and raised. I moved to California with my Mom, Stepdad, a mutual friend of theirs, and my girlfriend who had been living with me in my mom’s house for 2 years before the move. California was my mom and stepdad’s plan since I was little. He’s a screenplay writer so the move was a step so he can have more opportunities. Right before moving, my mom expressed she no longer felt in love with my step dad, who had been in my life since I was 3, and felt that it would not change. While making the move, we drove in an RV and currently live in it, they didn't sleep together, and upon arrival, she began sleeping in the same bed as the mutual friend. (I guess not so mutual). This drove my stepdad crazy, every night they slept in the same bed together 2 feet away from him. He expressed his discomfort and anger in this situation but it did not matter, after 2 months he had gotten his own place. This stirred me up a lot, it still does. It was clear what was going to happen the whole time, just not explicitly , and until then I just didn’t want to except it. I expressed my sadness about the situation with my mother when she had approached me while my stepdad was away before he had moved out of the RV, with the option of my girlfriend and myself moving into an apartment with her and her new bedmate. That was when it was made explicitly clear to me that my stepdad and her were over and she was indeed going to be with this guy. Who I had known since I was about 5. Obviously the move with them did not take place. But when we had that interaction, I cried as I wanted to ask her how she could be so heartless, such a monster, so wrong, but I couldn't ask her that. I said I didn't want to just abandon my stepfather in the RV, especially where we are living is very far from anything. I can’t remember what I said but I tried to express how I felt, and I can only remember her yelling and tearing, “What about how I feel?!” I went silent, I didn't realize at the time but the whole interaction was all too familiar. She had said that she felt not in love with him for nearly 5 years, but didn't know it herself, and once she realized she did what she wanted to “feel happy” cause thats all she’s ever wanted, and yeah maybe it wasn't pretty but now she’s happy. She has since gotten a DUI and is without a license and probably the most miserable I’ve ever seen her. But I can never tell, she’s impossible to read, every time I see her I feel like she is mad at me, or she’s got something to say and just won’t. Thats one half, maybe the smaller half in my mind for now. But not irrelevant, as the big one is around my Bio-Dad. Before I moved out here, I worked with him doing construction for 2 years after I graduated high school. He knew my mom and step dad were moving but not that I was planning to go with them, I put off telling him for 6 months, and then a month before, I told him, with my girlfriend present. I could not initiate the conversation towards that topic, so we sat at the table awkwardly, until late when I gave the okay for my girlfriend to start. She went with “Mr.B, we have something we would like to talk with you about.” My heart was pounding the entire time, and I was fighting back sweat, and shaking. He took it okay. If it was what I wanted to do then he was happy, I suppose. It was all there but I didn't want to see it then, but I wanted so desperately to take this chance to move to California so I can get away from him. I see it now. All of it for what it is, abuse. My dad has always been a yeller, some would call it short-fuzed, others just an asshole. He's always been one for violence. He always told me stories of him getting into fights at school, or into trouble in school, and then my grandfather beating the shit out of him all the time; always with the caveat that he was BAD. My grandma would call it “Fresh”. I don't know who told me but I was once told that my dad once drowned kittens in a sewer. And boy oh boy does he love his beer. My parents married young, had me at 19(both of them), and separated when I was young, (about a year), but didn't get divorced until right before my mom remarried, some 7-8 years later. My mom had full custody of me but I always went back and forth until I was 16, then I stayed only at my mom’s. I’m my mother’s only child, but my dad, had a girl with a woman he was dating and proposed to, but turned him down, when I was 6. My sister’s mom was no longer living with us about 2 years later, and when I was 11 my dad introduced me to, lets call her Rita, a woman he once dated in high school and left for my mom. Rita had a son (9 at the time) from a man who ran out on her and denied paternity when she was 18. My dad moved them in with me and my sister about 2 months after the meeting, and married her all alone in Jamaica 4 months after that. They would go on to build a custom house together, and when I was 15 they had a baby girl, and my dad legally adapted her son, then when I was 17 they had another girl. After Rita lost her job after having the first child, they started to struggle, so after the second child was born, they were looking to sell the house they just built. It sold and we moved the last of their stuff out of that house and into the new one, the morning before Hurricane Sandy hit Staten Island. My dad would sometimes brag about his power over us by saying things like ‘when me and my sister would start to get out of line all he had to do was look at us and we knew’. I have many vivid memories of my dad hitting my first little sister and beating our dog. I always remember there being a hole in the wall somewhere that my dad made with his fist, even before my sister was born. Before I moved and knew better, I know he was doing the same to my 2 youngest sisters, then 4 and 2. But I know it has been going on as since they were less than a year. This caused me look at my early childhood where there’s really not a lot of memory before 5-6, so I talked with my mom. She left him because of the way he is, with his temper, so I asked about being spanked, she says he spanked me as early as 8 months old, but she insisted that she wasn't as worried about that as she was his verbal abuse, and rages. She admitted that she also spanked me but she said specifically 8 times. When I asked her, ‘You won in the legal system, 100%, why did you not take me away from him if you left because he was violent?’ Her response haunts me, “Well you really looked up to him at the time this was going on, and wanted to still see him, he was your dad, and when I grew up hating everyone who took me away from my parents, I just knew whatever I experienced I wanted to be opposite for you.” Now the older girl just turned 5 yesterday, and the other turned 3, 2 months before. And I know they are experiencing all the same kind of trauma that I have, living with my dad, they might have it worse considering the mother. I recently asked my oldest sister about how often has she seen my dad, hit, push, grab, slap, spank, or anything violent towards, either of the 2 youngest, her response was about twice a day. And I already know that the verbal aggression and abuse is constant. I also asked my stepbrother but in the context of, my sister says twice a day, would you agree? He said “at least from what I SEE.” I desperately want to confront my father on this issue but the fear level for me is so overwhelming. Ive spoken to him all of maybe 6 times in the year that I've been living in CA, but the last time, I tried to RTR him but couldn't speak it and I needed to get it out, so I texted him, explaining that I have fear around talking with him honestly and openly. Needless to say he didn't get it, but left with the good old, “You know I love you, when you're ready, I’ll be here.” I know this is long, so to anyone who’s read this far, I am truly thankful, and if anyone can offer up any comments, questions, advise, or criticisms, would all be helpful here. I would also like to acknowledge that this post as my very first may come on as very strong, but that would be why it is so lengthy. Thank You anyone and everyone, Louis

Hey everyone, I'm going to jump right in. I'd like to give a little background first so you're on the same page. If anyone has time, I would really appreciate opinions on the conversation below. My name is Andrew. I'm 26, and I'm a long time listener of FDR (my first post on the boards). I just started some serious self-work due to a tipping point finally being reached in my family. About three weeks ago I told them that I wanted a break. I expressed my desire to have space in order to figure things out. Without going into the full history, there's some serious emotional abuse and neglect that I feel I've been subjected to. I haven't seen them or spoken to them for about three weeks now. I've confronted my Mom in the past about these concerns I have of my childhood. What I'm trying to do right now is write down every single detail I can remember about my past. I'm trying to put together a timeline of sorts containing all of the events and experiences I can remember of as a child. So a couple days ago I asked my Mom if I could pick up all of the childhood school papers / pictures she saved. I told her that it would really help me in this whole process during therapy. (I found an amazing one thank god). She told me that she would put together a box with everything and that I could pick it up today (Sunday the 19th). All day today I've been a nervous wreck. And to make a long story short I decided not to go over. I couldn't do it. I just can't see her face to face yet. I'm not ready. So the below conversation is what followed through text message. (I purposely left the typos in the conversation. I felt that it would help paint a more accurate picture of my Mom. Also the lost key conversation happened through email earlier in the day). Me: "I'm sorry mom I cant make it over tonight. I have the day off tomorrow...would you mind leaving the box in the backyard or garage? I could swing over during the day and pick it up." Mom: "Why can't you make it over" Me: "I don't know...I guess I'm scared to..." Mom: "We'll Andy that really hurts me I didn't know I scared you wow! I guess all I can say is when you get your courage back you can come over and get the stuff I put together for you this week. Come over tomorrow if you want after I get off work at 2:30 and pick it up I would like to talk. Love you mom" Mom: "Did you loose all your keys can you still drive your car.? Please reply thank you" Me: "Yeah I got all new keys made last week. I don't think im ready to talk face to face yet, im sorry. Would you mind leaving the box outside? I'd still like to look at the files if you don't mind." Mom: "I don't know what files your talking about I put together dates on a piece of paper dates where we lived and when we lived there. Also the box of your time at meadow lake school and pictures when you were little. I'm not putting them outside it's going to snow tomorrow if you can't see me after work then you can pick the stuff up when you can you can face I'm sorry you can't even see me I love you andy." Mom: "I just don't understand why your feeling this way towards me what did I do? For you to feel this way ." Me: "What about putting the stuff in the garage? You usually leave that unlocked right? I really really want to look at these things. I appreciate very much that you took the time to write down dates...it would help me a lot..." Me: "I don't know mom...that's what im trying to figure out in therapy right now." Mom: "Sorry Andy if you want the stuff tomorrow you can get it from me I want to see you . You don't have to stay and talk. You said you would come over today well I'm going to hold you to that." Me: "Ok. I'll pick up the stuff when I'm ready to talk face to face." Mom: "Ok I'm sorry you feel that way about me remember you have mail to pick up to when ever your ready to see me love mom:-*" I just can't believe that she's holding these things "hostage" in a way. I feel disgusted, completely neglected, and angry as hell. I'm starting to remember her doing this kind of thing to me when I was a kid. Ugh.

Has anyone else read Daniel Mackler's recent new book "Breaking From Your Parents"? It's become available at amazon / kindle a couple of days ago. I'd be interested in other peoples' thoughts on the book!

Here is my previous post on some of my story: http://board.freedomainradio.com/topic/38334-hi-from-norway/ I live far apart from my family. I used to live in my dead grandfathers house before they sold the house. When they sold the house I drove 1000km far north to Tromsø. My parents tried to talk me out of this decision, but I ignored it. In october/november or so they contacted me and wanted me to visit them. I refused. My mom managed to talk me into agreeing that they (my father and mother) come and visit me. When they came my mother had brought gifts, she said "I brought you this cooking pot, which I have promised you". I felt uncomfortable, I specifically said before they came to not bring any gifts. Now she said she had promised me this pot? The pot was bought with my dads money as usual. Not completely sure this is a manipulative strategy to make me feel guilty to give something back, I feel cynical about taking this point of view, but it certainly did not feel right. I wanted to refuse taking it, but gave in. There where other people around (those that shared my apartment) and I didn't want to make a scene. Also I decided to just play along, counting days until they left again. Anyway. We used a lot of time looking at houses. I have gotten 100k $ from my grandfather on my fathers side. My father was really excited and had lots of enthusiasm. Checking the internet for different houses and apartments, arranging several each day. Some where really expensive, but managable. I would just be able to pay the interest of the loan. It did not feel right, but I got excited as well, I quite tired of living with strangers... After they left I felt relieved. My mother called on the phone and started nagging me that I had to remember ordering airplane tickets for the Christmas holidays. I procrastinated it, I just couldn't do it. I really did not want to come and spend Christmas with them. I told her so. She said something like, come on it will be alright. It will be good for you. I ended up giving in. The tickets where quite expensive, since I waited for it so long. After that I got really depressed. I started to isolate myself in the room and could not concentrate on the exams. I went back into a completely dysfunctional state that I have suffered from in the past. I ended up sleeping in the day and being awake in the night to avoid my room mates. All the exams went terrible, even though I had done a lot of ground work earlier in the semester. I started to realize that I could still change my mind, even though I had bought expensive tickets. Those money where gone anyway. I flipped back and forth, unable to make up my mind. Two days before I was supposed to go, I decided to not go, just enjoy my own company. All the roommates would leave and I could enjoy the silence. I had been hiding in my room, cooking food on a rice cooker and small hot plate. Now I could enjoy the living room and a real kitchen. On the day I was supposed to leave I called my mother (around the time I was supposed to arrive). I told her that I really did not want to visit them, and that the truth was that I really did not enjoy Christmas, that it made me depressed spending time with them with all this exterior stuff; presents, food etc. but with an empty feeling inside. The "topics" of conversation also dives me insane. They are so vacuous and uninteresting. She got angry and sad. She kept saying what am I going to tell the others? She said she somehow had to bear the responsibility of me not coming, now they would be disappointed at her. At a later phone call I told my mom that I did not want to see them anymore. I complained about their emotional neglect in my childhood. She kept saying thet they did as best they could. I was quite angry in this phone call and said that it was not good enough. She started crying. I said that crying was not going to change my mind. Then she started to say that I put the blame on them for my own misery. That I made up stories to justify my position in life. I threw the same thing back at her. That it could be argued that her story served her purposes in the exact same way. Then she got really angry and that really sharp voice came out of her. I can remember this voice from my childhood. It's really scary, really sharp and angry. It doesn't affect me ass much anymore though. Next phone cal she pretended like nothing and started to tell me really detailed stuff about what had happened, the weather etc. I just told her, that I really did not care about all this, could she not remember our last call? She kept trying to just pretend like nothing and bring the conversation back to normal. Now she keeps sending me text messages. Hope everything is fine! Hear the weather is nice. We have just been skiing etc.She keeps calling as well, but I don't pick it up. It's freaking annoying! I talked to my oldest sister the other day. She said I was being childish. Then she wanted to send me a gift, I said that I really did not want it, but she kept insisting. I felt guilty and gave in. The package has arrived, but I haven't picked it up yet. Should I send it back again? So what is going on here. Why does my mother keep sending me text messages that are all happy happy, and just pretending she doesn't know that I really just want to be left alone? My father has stopped all contact. He kept asking me if he could transfer the money from my grandfather. I kept saying that it was not in a hurry and that I didn't want them cause I was afraid that would make me unable to take student loans. Now I have decided to drop out of university. I told him he could send the money, but I have not heard anything from him. What's going on there? Is he afraid I will just waste them, now that he know I don't want to have anything to do with them? Or is he playing some kind of game? I'm afraid calling him cause I know he will keep saying that I shouldn't have dropped out of college etc. All he ever talks about is what I'm supposed to do according to "the script". I have followed that script long enough now and it makes me miserable. If I talk about his emotional absence when I was growing up he either goes into anger/rage mode. Or he uses the pity game, making me feeling guilty. A long rant. I just could not sleep and felt like venting. (also I checked my phone and there it was another message from my mother)

Hello FDR. Recently, over the last couple of weeks, I've been planning a trip to south-east Asia. I think I want to go over there to live a life that is simpler, slower and more focused on meditation, travel and meeting new people. I have found that that is probably the best region in the world to do those sorts of things. The cost of living is low compared to where I live, Eastern Canada. The weather is also warm all year, and there are basically two patterns(sunny or rainy). I'm currently saving money for this trip working as an administrator at my mother's driving school. I work just over 30 hours a week, and I take care of appointments, giving out information to students and answering the phone. I get paid a pretty good wage, just over 12$ an hour, for work I find very easy. I spend a lot of time when I'm in the office browsing the web or listening to audiobooks or podcasts. I also live in my mother's house, and it enables me to save more as I don't pay rent or pay for my food. Now there are some issues with this. I don't believe my mother ever really connected with me. I vaguely remember abuse, taking the form of verbal humiliation and spankings. My parents divorced when I was 14 years old. I don't remember talking to them about it, or them bringing it up with me. I didn't get to process it at all and was feeling very anxious and depressed at that time. I couldn't get empathy from them in any way. Now, I've tried to talk to my mother about my issues with my past, and her actions. She was extremely defensive and denied or manipulated me into "forgiveness". After a heated "debate", I decided to leave the house. I went to live with a friend of mine for just over 4 months, and barely contacted my mother or my father. I forgot to mention that I have since completely stopped to see my father. I know what choice I am currently making: I am not going to talk to her about anything that is meaningful to me, no matter the cost. I do need to talk to her about my trip, though, and I am sure she will mention how she wants me to contact her when I'm there, and other things. I am thinking of using this trip as a way to divorce myself entirely from my family of origin. I am unsure of how to talk with her about this, or if I even want to. I'm considering just leaving, with her thinking that I will stay in contact, and never do so. But at the same time, I want her to know exactly how I feel. I am thinking of leaving, and meditating/reflecting for a month or so, and maybe write her an email or call her directly to let her know what it is that I am doing. I think a phone call might be the best way. Now that I think of it, I might also want to talk with her in person about this. I'm really confused about what to do in this situation, but I don't feel like I can get her to admit any wrong that she has done. I'm not sure what the best course of action for my long-term happiness is. My question is: How do I find out what to do in this difficult situation? Please leave me any feedback you believe can be useful and don't hesitate to ask me questions. Thank you very much, I highly appreciate your attention to this issue which is extremely important to me.

Where I give a backdrop to my self-knowledge journey so far I suppose my journey over the last few months has reached something of a full cinematic conclusion within my dreams, one of which I have not previously experienced in my life. I don't experience lucid dreams, and this one surely wouldn't qualify as one, but it was at least tangential to a lucid dream in its intensity. I should start by saying that I was raised in a life of fear. My parents through their carefully crafted manipulation put me through a gradual process of transformation from a curious and outgoing young child into a shell of a person by age 11 with a crippling panic of public interaction rendering me nearly catatonic when it came to simple tasks such as checking out at a cash register. I was changed countries 3 times, I was relocated through multiple states and cities, I changed schools nearly every year from age 4 to 12, having to adapt myself to each new public school prison and its corresponding juvenile inmates. Empathy and love never existed in my childhood, only from a few good teachers and older models did I learn any sense of a faint echo of what these things might be. My mom was and is a narcissist, she learned this from a childhood of poverty surrounded by 5 older sisters who would strangle the life out of her and dominate her will, something I assume she resolved to never allow to happen again in her adult life. Consequently she sought out to only find those she could exercise control over. Not a big surprise she became a staunch leftist. She was and is full of feminist venom and malice, though she would never say as much in words. To her I was the distant reflection of an alcoholic absent father who might leave again (which ultimately lead to the one thing she feared in any case). She was a master manipulator, she developed a method of affection and affection withdrawal that would leave me constantly seeking her good graces. If at any early age I did not demonstrate any consideration for the "error of my ways", if I was not apologetic, she would escalate the situation by increasing my punishments until I relented. My mom loved to echo socialist rhetoric in a manner, it was always for what was "good for the family as a whole", especially the last move we made at age 12 when I was finally starting to make friends at the school I was at in the suburbs of Chicago. The entire family moved for the last time to South Florida, for "the good of the family" which was in actuality nothing more than her desire to live in warmer climate, there was zero economic reason to move otherwise, my father did not change companies, he just transferred offices. She was also very fond of forcing me to apologize to her or my sister or anyone regardless of whether I agreed with her reasoning or not. This was the most vile brainwashing of all, having to affirm something I did not believe over and over. Consequently my inate intelligence which far surpassed anyone else in my family became subdued and I behaved aloof and brutish, like my father. My father was and is a shell of a human being. His childhood from what I can gather from uncles and hearsay, was incredibly violent. So violent that he refuses to discuss it. He was my mom's enforcer. When I was "misbehaving" she would send me to my room and then send my father late at night upon his return from work to give me the verdict and the threat of escalation if I continued disobeying. This threat dominated my entire childhood. He rarely hit me but it was enough to issue these threats in his aggressive tones to continuously keep me at bay. I wanted to have nothing to do with him and really despised him as a person, his cowardice disgusted me to my soul, but I did not know to what degree I felt this until recently. He enjoyed humiliating me at public gatherings he had with office workers or his mom's friends. Always cracking a joke at my expense when I felt the most vulnerable as a forced social introvert; the betrayal would tear at me and make me feel like I could die. On one occassion I was dreading giving a speech in class that had been offered as an extra credit opportunity, and I decided to seek his advice the night before to see if he'd reassure me it would be ok to not do it. It was an extreme rarity for me to seek any sort of counsel from my father but I was so terrified of the speech I thought I might convince my father it would not be necessary. He responded with rage at the idea of abandoning the chance to marginally improve my grade and when I told him I didn't want to do it and I would not do it, he threw the chair he was sitting in at me. It was a plastic lawn chair and didn't really hurt physically, but the sense of sociopathy and betrayal of confidence echoes within me to this day. At times I would feel so exasparated and hopeless from the complete lack of understanding of my feelings I would explode with rage within my room lashing out violently at any inanimate object I could find until my mom would knock on the door and threaten to make things worse for me if I didn't stop, and so I learned that I must resign to be a slave and live passively within that existence or else not survive. Even at the age of 13 they managed to subdue me; the first overwhelming passionate rebeliousness when puberty was hitting me hard and all my understanding of the world was being flipped and inverted. The threat of sending me off to military school was sufficient in that case. Is it not bizarre and yet completely logical how that which deeply repulses us the most as a child is what we come to depend on the most to exist? At age 20, still living with my parents, I developed severe and devastating panic attacks. They would often last entire nights and leave me in complete fear for my life and drained and exhausted once they had passed. Eventually I went on antidepressants for it and subdued all these feelings for a time, but I had to increase dosage as time went on to continue to subdue the feelings. After a time the antidepressants had me so sick I could barely digest food or get out of bed. It wasn't until later on when I had changed my dietary habits, quit the meds, and left my parents' home that I began to slowly recover. Unfortunately, that was not until 26 years old. I was somehow stuck within the cycle of abuse and dependency at home, I became the same as a prisoner who had grown too institutionalized to exist outside in the real world on his own. I went to the local university though I had plenty of opportunity to leave. I took trips to Europe to try to escape them with some faint dream of finding a job with my EU passport and never coming back. Inevitably I would come home after only a week suffering from a depressive meltdown of loneliness. My mom had bred dependency in me to the point I was a cripple without her presence. I did not keep romantic relationships and my parents had no problem with the state I was in so long as I remained submissive. I could not talk to strangers or even make a phone call to a business without difficulty. In time I managed to become more independent but it was with great difficulty. Fast forward to two years ago, I discovered FDR and began to examine very critically everything I'd been taught. After reading On Truth and RTR I began to seriously question the falsities behind my family, but it still took me a great deal of time to unravel just how deep the trench was. 6 months ago I began a relationship with a girl who was a self-proclaimed libertarian. In the initial period I told my mom about her and she immediately went snooping on her facebook profile to try to dissect her, subsequently telling me she might potentially be trying to use me or kidnap me. She was actively trying to sabotage my relationship before it had began and this from an entirely different state. Incidently she has repeated this pattern in the past and yet I allowed for her abuse and manipulatition to continue in order not to upset her. Unfortunately my ex was not at all what I had initially expected (though for entirely different reasons than my mom's initial paranoias), demonstrating serious irrationality steming from a fire and brimstone strict Christian childhood. When things inevitably broke apart between us I realized at the time I had really just been trying to replace the affections of my mom with someone else, not actually solving any of my own problems or exploring self knowledge in any meaningful way (in spite of the material I had read up until then). For the first time in my life I was honest about what I wanted out of my relationship with my mother: Nothing. I told her I didn't want to talk to her anymore and blocked her everywhere I had her as a contact online. She of course sent me a pitiful narcissistic email about how I spent my whole life trying to run away from her in spite of her best efforts. It's important to note here that I did not defoo my father. At that time I was so angry with my mother and the realization of how deep her manipulation was, that I felt some pity for my father as this empty shell who was being driven around by her for decades. I had the naive view that a sense of empathy still might inhabit my father and upon a confrontation he might feel remorse for the past reign of fear and bullying and humiliation he had exposed me to. So I kept communication with on a very casual basis by phone only discussing the bare minimum until he came into town last week. Where I confront my father and all illusions are destroyed The entire night before my father and I were scheduled to meet outside a Panera Bread near my house I was filled with trepidation and enormous fear. I felt as if I might arrive at the meeting and die right there on the spot, such was the intensity of the fear. When I got there he was sitting in a table outside the restaurant with the family dog, a tiny perfectly groomed Maltese who my mom had molded into her perfect specimen of affection and loyalty.. He'd dropped off my mom beforehand at a mall to go shopping, thankfully she had no desire to see me either. I was immediately emotional and it took me at least 5 minutes stewing in fear to finally mutter anything of significance. Finally I broke loose. "Do you know the difference between sympathy and empathy?" "Yes, of course," he said. "Well, I have been thinking about it for a while, and I don't think there was ever any empathy in our family" My father rolled his eyes, "Why does this matter, why do you bring this up?" "Because there was never any consideration for my feelings, no curiosity as to why I felt a certain way, why I was acting out, nothing" "I wasn't a psychologist, I was your father, I wasn't responsible for you feelings, only for raising you" (wtf?!) "So you mean that my feelings didn't matter to you, you had no interest in learning about them?" He dodged the question, "when you turned 12 years old you started to despise us and think we were terrible people, I have no idea why you decided we were terrible people but I think we were very leniet with you considering your attitude in that time." I get indignant, "did you never stop to think how destructive it is to change a kid from a school every year for 8 years in a row, did you not think it would have been helpful to understand what I felt about that?" "So what if you changed schools? I don't see a problem with that. My responsibility was to be your father not to fix the whole family around your feelings." "Was it your responsibility also to humiliate and make fun of me at your private parties with friends, to throw a chair at me when I came for your advise the one damn time I had the guts to do so?" He laughed nervously and pathetically. "It's not funny, I said, half in tears. My father became all of a sudden tranquil and with a very seemingly introspective tone he blurted out the following abomination, "you're right about me throwing a chair at you, that wasn't right, but let me tell you, in that time I really feel that I should have hit you more to teach you respect back then, you were out of control and we let you get away with it then." My illusions all suddenly ended with that exact moment. How could I possibly still be afraid of this pathetic human being? He'd not only not shown any empathy but actually doubled down in spite of seeing me in clear emotional pain when expressing these things. "Ok," I said. "I see that you don't get it." I immediately stopped feeling overwhelmed and calmed down pretty quickly. I resolved to reserve my inevitable and unavoidable defoo with him for some other time and continued with some petty small talk for a few minutes more, which was all I could stomach before getting the hell out of there. It is amazing how greatly illusion and mythology can obscure the truth about relationships. In spite of all the self knowledge work I had already done, in spite of all the reading and journaling and exploring of some painful subdued emotions, I had not been aware of how disjointed from a logical perception of reality I was when it came to my father. I realized that my father for me had just been a sort of last chance desperation for me to salvage and reconcile my past. I had known all along that my father was completely unfeeling, but I simply hadn't been ready to accept it. The fear was too enormous and crippling. After the encounter I had very little fear left of him at all, it was all relegated to remnants of past fear and emotion. It was within this context that I had an incredibly powerful and vivid dream only 10 days later. A true gem of a dream. Where the dream happens and I discover my rage I was in the kitchen inside a strange home I did not recognize. I was sitting at a table apparently waiting for dinner to be prepared while my father and mother were actively cooking. My dad was holding a knife and actively cutting away at something imperceptible. I apparently muttered a comment which irritated my dad and he feigned a motion with the knife in his hand as if he was going to throw it at me. This seemed to me to be something I had seen him do before but I could not place it. I immediately reacted with unusual anger and blurted out "Why don't you try it you fucking coward?!" Incredibly, this enraged him so much that he actually threw the knife at me but missed. I was initially shocked and appalled that he'd gone through with it but did not let my anger subside, "I can't believe you did that, I'm calling the police immediately!" Suddenly my father and mother seemed to grow panicked at the realization of what he had done and my father started throwing other knives at me. As I dodged them I ran out of the kitchen and up a flight of stairs I did not recognize to the second floor. I ran into a room and in a panic tried to lock the door behind me but it would not lock. I looked around the room for something to use to defend myself and found lying next to the bed my warhammer. A warhammer is an enormous medieval hammer used for piercing and brutal blunting of armor piercing. In an era where swords would not penetrate armor with ease, the warhammer was devastating. This was the only object in the entire dream that I recognized, because I own one in real life and also keep it next to my bed as a home defense tool. As soon as I grabbed the warhammer my fear of dying ended, I felt suddenly empowered and ready to face the attack. I discovered my rage. My father burst into the room with a baseball bat and swung at me but missed. I walloped him across the torso hard with the blunt end of the hammer and he went down. I then ran from that room onto a balcony and resolved to jump but just then my mom popped out from behind me and started firing a cross bow. She missed me and I turned and knocked the crossbow away from her as she was loading another arrow and pushed her away. I then finally jumped out of the window and began running as I hit the ground. Decades of fear began to fade away. I woke up calm and relaxed, though tired. As I type this I am smiling and still reflecting upon the complete relief at finally escalating to the point I always longed for in past confrontations before the pang of regret would hit, the inevitable realization that the threat to my life would be too much to bare, the resignation to slavery. No longer will I be slave to ghosts or the living dead. I know now I am so much stronger than they, that their decades of abuse could not enslave me. I am free. The warhammer is still propped up next to my bed and it will stay there.

Does anybody know of novels/movies that challenge the default virtue of family? Instead of just making reccommendations as I love to do for you guys, I want to know if there are more than the ones I'm about to tell you guys about that you know of. I've only watched the movie for Precious and later found out it's based on a book, but this story is really emotionally rivetting, very moving, but also quite disturbing. It's about an overweight black teen who gets pregnant and has to learn how to survive in the ghetto amidst her unplanned motherhood. For those of you who don't care for spoilers and still like watching or reading despite of having that knowledge: I don't mind minor spoilers, I'll still watch or read to see how it gets there, but if there's something big(like Fight Club's plot twist), I would prefer to let it be a surprise. Then there's Island Girl, which you can read an excerpt here if you'd like, written by my own college professor. I think I must have read this book about 2-3 times by now. It's about a self proclaimed juniour-senior named Ruby, who is diagnosed with early onset alzeihmer's, and lives in a house that her grandparents built on Ward's Island off the coast of Toronto. She has two daughters named Liz and Grace. Grace lives with Ruby, has a mild retardation and is also under arrest, while Liz is an alcoholic who used to be a lawyer and also lives on her own in downtown Toronto. Basically, Ruby is afraid that once her mind goes, she fears that Grace would be unable to keep the family home that doubles as their family business (they run a salon together), and her deepest desire is that Liz sobers up and comes home to take care of her and take over the owneship over the house. This is the first book I read that challenged the default virtue of family because although Ruby is stricken with a horrible disease, she hasn't been a very good mother, so Liz is reluctant to really give a shit. It's a fascinating read, it's written in all three of their perspectives, their voices are very distinct, and each of their own sublots provide a ton of variety to the story. Having this multiciplicty of perspectives to see the story through makes for a heightened sense of empathy as you begin to understand each woman's motivations and how if the others only knew how one of them felt and thought, things would just work out for the better. Not to mention it is also hilarious at times despite the amount of feels it'll provide lol. I highly suggest you order it or download the e-book. I believe there needs to be more novels like this that are written in such a clever and genuine style that PUNCHES YOU IN THE SOUL!!! Anyways, got any of your own recommendations? I feel like FDR is a goldmine of sharing stuff, I've certainly become a big fan of a few things people have recommended to me like the work of John Bradshaw or a variety of podcast series based on writing.

I talk about my history and explain what lead me to make decisions about primary relationships: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mTeHnfGEVJc

To make everything concise.My father took $500 out of a joint account we have (that I have been placing my paychecks in) without my permission, on the basis that he needs to regain his lost income from me going to college on his money. I need to know how to escape this situation in the most productive manner?Background about the situation:I recently stopped attending college, after 2.5 years because of the financial burden and my lack of initiative and motivation toward the subject that I had pursued. I instead took to philosophy and self work, and also found a job that could help me save for paying off the $6000+ loan I had incurred.I choose to stay with my parents, but in the past months it has become increasingly harder and harder to feel emotionally stable and just safety. If I don't want to do something that my father requests, the consequence is that he will stop providing some service that helps me achieve my goals like going to work. I can see this as a form of manipulation and I am just fed up.Going back to the money issue, I am currently trying to transfer the money out of the joint account into another account that is just my own.My initial step, out of fear and desperation, was to call a friend that offered to help me out with shelter, and let him know what happened, and ask for his help. This is not a guarantee, nor do I expect it to be.I just don't really know what to do since this manipulation will continue, and I don't know what other ideas are being planned against me if I don't follow what my father wants me to do. My father's response to me stopping my education, has become increasingly verbally abusive and manipulative.Here are some relevant questions.Should I let my current employer know of the full circumstance, if I am to relocate too far from the workplace?Should I ask for the money that was taken back? (Already have made it clear that I did not approve of the money being transferred)Should I talk about how I feel to my mom about her inaction in this situation?If I cannot find a place to temporarily stay soon, what are my other options?What steps can I take to proactively remain focused on my needs being met, and not appease my father's commands?What other things should I expect to arise in this situation?

I essentially de-fooed from my family about three years ago. It wasn't a formal conversation, but rather an argument that escalated. I realized that I was happier when I didn't have any contact with them (my parents and my younger sister) as we had had previous times when we weren't speaking. Since that argument I haven't had any contact at all with my parents or my sister. The problem is, I still think about them and wonder about them. I found out that my sister was getting married because I google-searched her name and found her wedding registry online. But I can't figure out why I am google-searching her name in the first place. I know that I don't really miss my sister or my parents, but rather the idea and fantasy of having a loving and supportive family. But every time I think about them now, it just stirs up hurt all over again and makes me feel angry and sad all over again (like I'm going back in time and de-fooing all over again). Thoughts?

Hi everyone! Background: I try to keep it as short as possible. I would title my problem with my family at the moment with "To ignore accomplishments"; I suffer middle/heavy depression (without psychotic symptoms) for a few years now, with better months and ... bad months. I'm at the moment in the process of re-normalizing my life: Job hunting, slowly building up a new social life and of course re-building self-esteem. Besides psychotherapy I take medication and after switching and taking a higher dose, the meds finally assist me in my endeavors ... less so my family. Acute problem: My problems with the illness are either fully ignored or downplayed to the point of absurdity / laziness, despite being diagnosed by 4 different doctors, taking medication and obviously showing nearly all symptoms of depression. I get (indirectly) called a liar, lazy, non loving and my job type is of course the wrong one ... well here I am. I don't want to suffer any longer under those charges and sacrifice the small energy I have ... but on the other hand I am not ready to deFOO. I don't know how you can help me out here, but I have to try to find some answers. Thank you very much.