Salutations and apologies for this terrible title, but to simplify everything - that's what I truly feel from day to day basis, but not quite that, so let me explain.
It's honestly weird. I am a normal guy by all means. Sure, got bullied a bit like all, but I fought back relentlessly, but there was something I never could fight back.
I grew up in a not so decent home with parents who acted more like teenagers, with all of the insecurities and lack of maturity. They always would put me through a rollercoaster of emotions that I, to this day, do not understand. At one instance, I was their beloved kid, worthy only of praise, yet, moments later, I would get beaten, ridiculed, diminished and get told that I "was a failed piece of shit", apologies for my language, and that I "should've been aborted".
Mind you, that was told to me by my beloved mother, who was the whole world to me growing up, and yet she would say such awful things to me, abusing me both physically and mentally, and then she would forget (or pretend to, for all I know) that she ever did anything bad to me, and it was extremely confusing to me while I was younger.
As I got older though, I understood her more. She was a victim of far more abuse, so my siblings would tell me "not to take it close to heart" and to "man up and stop whining". I tried. I failed. I tried again, and so on.
My siblings...
I am the youngest kid in the family, so of course everyone looked at me like I was treated like royalty, and they were jealous that they "didn't get that love and pamper that I receive", so no wonder they would get mad at me. In their eyes, I was a milksop complaining about overeating again, and they were starving children.
I got beaten up a lot by my brother growing up. Got cracked bones from all of that and minor brain damage. Was told that "it ain't a big deal" and to man up again. I failed and tried.
They, however, all of them, mother and siblings, would relentlessly dump their trauma and frustrations onto me, like I was a mop used to clean up stains of rotten juice and urine, yet I didn't complain, even when they would start to get physical in venting out their frustrations by hitting me.
I was raped by a woman at the age of 13. I didn't tell my siblings, for they would only sing their same old song, and didn't tell to my parents, for fear of ridicule and abuse. So, in my defiled, awful state, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
That was my first suicide attempt. It failed due to a stranger helping me. I sometimes curse that tourist for that to this day for cutting the rope, and myself for not properly checking the forest. Then came another attempt - same happened, but this time the dead branch snapped. So I tried again, and on the fourth attempt, I got scared of ending it all. I mean, funerals are expensive, and I wouldn't want to burden my family even more, so I decided to stop.
It didn't last long. My mother had another meltdown, and she and my brother beat me up severely, but no one really cared about that, except for my nephews and niece, who tried to comfort their young, beaten and scared uncle, while themselves shivering and crying too.
That day, I tried to shoot myself with my father's shotgun, but it jammed on me. I remember thinking to myself something among the lines of "I am cursed."
Due to all of that, my father and mother had a big fight, and I moved to a town where my sister lived. I finished 9th grade there, and went to a post-soviet analogue of a trade school to study geophysics.
It was rough. I lived in a terrible dorm, and studied in an environment even worse. The professors there where absolute assholes who were basically failed geologists and geophysics trying to feel better about themselves by abusing students and misusing their rights as educators to simply be assholes for the fun of it.
My mental health worsened. I couldn't get help because I then would get kicked out for not meeting the qualifications, and I didn't want to disappoint my parents even more. I finished it, and now I am a geophysical technician, heh.
Point is, I don't think anyone or anything can help me anymore. No one cares about me. Nobody. I am completely alone, at least I feel like it. And I also feel like a failure. I mean, I had 9 attempts that didn't put me down, what can you call a guy like that?
So, I guess I do deserve all of it. I deserve to be ridiculed, not taken seriously and beaten when I get out of my line, so I just wonder why.
Why shouldn't I kill myself?
Why does God, or the universe, or whatever/whoever you, the person reading this, believes, why does it not let me end this pathetic existence with some dignity?
And more importantly - how can I become normal again? Just how?
Hi,
One comment "'low IQ" has reduced your morale. It was hard blow to your self esteem and confidence. Work on your self esteem. Start loving yourself. when you do this what others says wont bother you. We need to build on your self confidence and esteem.
1.Start facing your fears
Ask yourself why does this statement "low IQ" bother you.
Did this statement make you feel inadequate or ashamed? then why did you feel ashamed?
Do you feel you have low IQ?
Do you feel just because you don't answer one question you fall into category of low IQ?
you need to dig the past and answer all the questions of why did you feel that about you?
3.Self compassion
practice self compassion through these steps:
# if yes then talk to them they are your friends. if they understand you they will be aware of where they are going wrong.
# if you feel no i cant be around such people then do express your feelings to them and create a distance. distancing yourself from friends would be painful initially but its necessary for you to be away from negativity.
3.Let go, forget it
if you feel off course one situation cant decide my IQ, then let go off the comment from your head. Bury the past. Forgive and move on.
4.Self Esteem activity
5.self confidence worksheet
This worksheet will empower you and make you confident whenever you feel low.
This task will always help you when that hurtful remarks play in your head next time. If you need further any help email veena.pragmatic@gmail.com