Typical narcissistic mother behavior

[JulienSorel]

I am Chinese, both sides of my family are sick people, and they made sure I would turn out the same way. I was born in China, and I lived in Colorado between the age of seven to eleven. When I returned to China, I found school impossible to adjust to. The main factor was the level of gentility, and there was always this impossibly thick aura of animosity towards each other. Everyone was either passive aggressive, or just flat out aggressive, and if you weren't so, you would be picked on. I spoke perfect American English but hardly any Chinese at the time, and to make matters ridiculous, none of the teachers could actually speak English, and that was made evident only when I arrived.

The teachers and the students hated me, I represented the truth that the education system there was terrible, and the oppressive authority they prescribe is just to cover up their lack of expertise. The teacher also made sure to talk about how I had an expensive computer at home, how I had a good life in America and I wasn't used to their conditions, and how I must think I was above them all. She wanted everyone to internalize jealousy towards me. We were canned like sardines in classrooms too small and tables too short for our legs, but we were screamed at if the tables and chairs did not line up a certain way with the tiles on the ground. The teacher loved screaming about that.

I was 13 and in grade 8. A guy shoulder checked me twice one day. I had only spoke to him once in what I thought was a friendly conversation, and I remember he was half a head shorter than me but four times as wide. The second time he shoulder checked me, I punched him twice on the back. He kept walking, turned around, and asked if I wanted to fight. This happens several times between people everyday, and the rule is you simply say yes and do not back down. I did that. He walked away, and I thought that was the end of it.

For the rest of the day, people started swarming me telling me I am dead, and that it was good knowing me. It was literally everyone, and this is a Chinese school with 45 students per classroom. It was disgusting. I realized I was being mobbed, and everyone in the mob began to understand that as well. These were jealous people. As I walked out of the school, some 20 people were around me constantly saying how it was nice to know me, and how I would be dead in a very brutal fashion. I walked out of the school gate and saw the fat guy with almost 20 people around him, and even a guy with a moped. Some of them looked ecstatic. I started walking towards home, and they followed me. I had some 40 people around me constantly threatening me, the fat guy was absolutely determined I was going to fight him, and the moped guy circled around me nonstop. I said fuck it, and walked back towards the school gate.

I approached the security guards at the school gate. I told them that those people were out there for me. He told me to sit down in the office and gave me the phone to call my parents. The fat guy approached him in the security who blocked him at the door. He started him down for almost 10 seconds and walked away. There were about 100 people now outside, I was terrified, and I started crying. They eventually dispersed, and I walked home with my some friends. This was Monday.

I told my mother, I explained the entire event and I told her I wanted to change schools. I understood immediately after that day how the school really felt, and how much jealousy they had internalized. I knew I needed to get out of there. My mom refused to help me in any way, and even asked me "so what do you want me to do? What can I do?" I told her we could switch schools or she can talk to the principle. She refused to do either, and said she will tell my uncle, who will ask the principle for the bullying to stop or he will threaten to write about it because he is a newspaper editor. I didn't understand why this was her solution, and she said she will talk to my uncle about it. I thought it was insane that she wasn't doing something immediately, She told her she will ask her parents to come over from my uncles house to walk me after school. I didn't know why she was suddenly dragging the family (who didn't like us) into preventing me from being bullied instead of dealing with it directly, but she smiled so sweetly and said it so gently, and then immediately put up a face of disgust when I mentioned any other alternative. She was so adamant about it that I went with it.

The next day (Tuesday), the bully confronted me every day after class, and a large bunch of my classmates joined him. Nobody wanted to help me, and even some people who I had tried to avoid were now using the opportunity to criticize me. Everyone acted what happened was my fault. I was getting exhausted by a threat to my life every 5 seconds by 45 people in a classroom. Even the teacher started joining in, when I didn't seem attentive, she asked if she should get the fat guy to visit me. He became their champion.

At home, I told my mom again of what happened. She said she couldn't do anything, and she wouldn't know what to say to the principle. I remember she told me that before she put me in that school, the principle likes to sing, and that I like to sing, and that we can sing together. She said that. I kept asking her to tell something to the principle or to switch schools for me, but I didn't know how to explain the anxiety caused by death threats every 10 seconds by my 45 classmates, I could only show it. She said my uncle is busy and he will talk to the principle on Friday.

By Wednesday, I felt like a zombie. I walked to school waiting for more death threats. Some people had started asking me for protection money, and I even saw some people fighting over each other to ask me for protection money. The fat guy started asking me for money as well, and even some of my classmates joined in as a joke. This all happened with our teachers just 20 meters from the classroom in their office. I was so worn down by that many faces every day that seemed so happy I was being bullied that I eventually thought I had to give the fat guy what he wants.

I went home again to my mom, who told me my uncle is busy and it would have to wait until Friday. I kept asking her why she was letting me endure this, and she just kept saying both her and my uncle are very busy with work, and they couldn't do anything. My friends also started criticizing me for not being more friendly and open with people, and not being more generous to them.

On Thursday, the fat guy said he I wanted things to stop, that he would have to punch me once in the bathroom in the back for what I did, that I would also have to give him money to get it all to stop. I resisted at first, but he got everyone to join in. By the afternoon, it was too much, it was just too many people talking to me about it. I agreed. I went to the bathroom, he punched me once as hard as he could in the back. I still have a blue scar from it on the back of my shoulder. Everyone jumped around excitedly, it was the happiest I have ever seen everyone. It was over for me too, I walked back like an idiot actually smiling that it was all over. I gave him money later and he said everything is okay now.

I went home, and I told my mom my uncle would finally get a chance on Friday to tell the principle on Friday. She also told me that she had an idea, that I should make friends. If I made friends, we can get together and beat him up. I thought that was a great idea. I had lost my free will already. I just went with it.

On Friday, the bully gave me back my money, I was surprised. We went to the principles office shortly after. He made is write a note stating we would stop fighting. I just wanted the abuse to stop, it was so constant, and so many Chinese people. I hated my people from that day on, and myself included. He left me alone after that.

From that day onward, everyone would tease me and ask me if I wanted to go to the washroom and have another talk, and if they should get the fat guy to ask me for money. I eventually started skipping that school, hating everything and everyone about it. I hated my mother, I hated my uncle, I hated everything that spoke Chinese. When I skipped school, I would bring with me a copy of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, the signet classic edition. I still have it. It was the thickest thing I could find on my mom's bookshelf, and I read it while eating takeout pizza or whatever groceries I have on the rooftop of my apartment if it was warm or the fire escape if it was cold.

I read other books too, like The Intelligent Investor, His Dark Materials (Philip Pullman), and the Redwall series, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings. That was my education for over a year, with no math and certainly no Chinese. Only English like I knew and loved. I also started working out, because people in America always seem to be killing themselves outside doing some form of high intensity training, so I would do body weight exercises during my reading sessions. Nothing was done for fun, only utility, just like my impression of the education system. My personal education regime would evolve into into math, ballet, and kale shakes, but this occurred too late in my life. My mother simply assumed I was going to school.

After that event, I gave up on my mother for good. The hate that was internalized in me in that moment made me the perfect psychopath. We began developing the most passive aggressive mother son relationship after that event, and in moments where she goes on her narcissistic rage, I am occasionally pushed to physically assault her while humiliating her in the worst way I can imagine. I know there really is no love behind there, and I sincerely do not feel guilt or remorse, only annoyance at the noise she keeps making. I even find enjoyment in it sometimes. I have read enough literature and studied enough psychology and philosophy to accept myself for what I am, and I feel no shame.

We moved to Canada when I was 15. I lived with no money and hardly any meals, we fought and fought and fought, and I almost never knew what the fight was about, it was just her screaming. She told me she would be gone for a week during October, and she was gone for a full year. I lived the first year in Canada by myself, having fun figuring out groceries and winter clothing. I started taking drugs, drinking, smoking weed, and had rollar coaster grades (I was smart, but not consistent). A friend introduced me to shoplifting, and that kept me fed so well. Shoplifting cheese is what made me 6'1, but I don't do it anymore. I graduated from York University in Economics at 22 but by then, my sanity had been eroded by my mom's more creative attacks. Things have kept getting worse, but I have had a few beautiful moments.

I'm not going to be able to last longer.

 

[Futility]

Oh this hurt me so much to read.
I'm sorry you've been through so much, that's so heavy. I wasn't sure whether to use the hug, cry, anger or surprise reaction, it's a mix of all of them.
So many hugs from me.

 

[JulienSorel]

Oh this hurt me so much to read.
I'm sorry you've been through so much, that's so heavy. I wasn't sure whether to use the hug, cry, anger or surprise reaction, it's a mix of all of them.
So many hugs from me.

Thank you. It hurts to think about, especially how much the people around me enjoyed it.

People you love can and sometimes will create chaos in your life and indulge in your struggle. I cannot find a connection with anyone. All I see is selfishness.
I would add that even my own mother would taunt me about it during her narcissistic vents. She would ask me when I look depressed if people are beating me up at school again. If there is a holiday, she would refuse to believe it and fight me anyways and demand I go to school myself to check to see if it is closed. If I refuse, she would ask me if I'm getting bullied again.

When I am sick, she knows that is when I am at my weakest state, and most prone to breakdowns. If it is on a school day, she will scream the entire day until we fight, and she will threaten to call the police, or take off her clothes and run to the neighbors screaming for help. I'm typically crying and begging to be allowed to sleep and rest away my sickness, wondering why every time I am sick we have the biggest fights. She would ask me if kids are picking on me, if she needs to go to the school to ask if people are bullying me (to make a scene of course, she loves drama). In my house, if you look weak, you get picked on. Hunger, sickness, any silly physical ailments, she will use the moment of anxiety and weakness to scream as many obscene things in my face until I break, and she will then play the police card or simply run out the house naked again.

Of course, the trick is to avoid becoming sick. But there is never food or money available for me. Most of my days involve several fights for food, and I usually manage enough patience to fight for one meal. Other times, she will use the need to request her for food as an opportunity to pin me for another fight, and I have often hit her physically. I hated hitting her, but I learned to love it later. Why does physical abuse exist? Because it works well. Beyond the rule of law, there is nothing wrong about physical abuse. I try to dish it out smartly enough so that she is kept in check and at least cooks something. There is never anything readily edible in the house, only frozen chunks meat wrapped in a thin layer of plastic wrap. Vegetables are always pungent things like spring onion, onion, garlic, bok choi, spinach with the entire stem and stalk, 20 different Chinese sauces I never touch, fermented tofu, and picked mustard greens. No milk, but there are eggs occasionally.

So I'm sick a whole lot, and the more sick I get, the more fights we get into, and the less food there is. I am bowlegged as a result She married some guy and a bought a big house later in my life, and now she puts on this disgusting guise of gentility, but she will break it often and lash out at me verbally. She will always ask me to cut my hair. She has told me to cut my hair thousands of times, and no matter how I cut it, she just says it is not cut enough. I would learn later that this is just her getting enjoyment from the control, and I would beat her sorry ass to the ground for manipulating me all those years to cut my hair the way she wants it just so she can feel better about herself. I wish you could get away with killing snakes in Canada.

However, I have a great relationship with a Japanese hairstylist and I have been going to her for over 5 years. The key to great hair is essentially forming a great relationship with your hairstylist. Fuck you mom.

 

[sad_frog]

Damn... I am so sorry for the abuse you've gone through in your life and proud of how far you've come. I came here to see if I could possibly give you advise on this "typical narcissistic mother behavior," BUT HOLY SHIT, youve been through HELL!

tell us more
vent it all out

 

[JulienSorel]

The Alleyway

We were 19, and we were handsome as Gods. One Polish, two Chinese. Robert was 6'3, Polish and over 230 pounds of soccer and hockey, and looked like he could command an army and stop a child's tears with equal effortlessness. Kai was a natural academic, 6'1, crosscountry, grew up in Jane and Finch, masculine but secretly feminine, smokes weed but wins physics competitions, down to earth, and the gentlest soul I have ever known. I was 6'1, tennis, angry, malevolent, ambitious, monstrously intelligent, graceful, majestic, more beautiful than most girls and more masculine than most men, and well-read decades beyond my years. We had height, contrast, and most of all, youth. We made an awesome group.

We drove to Montreal during what I thought was reading week, which I thought should coincide with Halloween. Neither assumptions were true, but we made the decision on shrooms in my living room. Our boredom superseded any sense to check the schedule and we swore with a few shots that we would go to Montreal together for a weekend with a lot of drugs. I just got my first car, a 2001 Chevrolet Malibu LS, navy, v6, and I wanted to take advantage of the newfound freedom.

The goal was to go clubbing on as many drugs as we can handle because life demands such an act when such circumstances presents themselves. We checked in to a Best Western on Friday exhausted, Robert got a case of 24s, we had molly, shrooms, green, and a lot of alcohol. Saturday came, we got high, drank, smoked, and in what little daylight there we took a demented stroll around downtown trying to figure out what we were supposed to be doing out here. It was Halloween that day, it was freezing, I didn't have a hat, and the Moose Knuckle Leather jacket and April 77 Warsaw Joeys accentuated my hips but did not protect it from the wind, but I was grateful for the maroon scarf that kept my neck warm. I wore a pair of Clark Desert Boots from a year ago. We smoked cigarettes, we took bong hits, we drank beer, we felt invincible and didn't even care that we did so while driving.

When we would walk down the street, people would make an opening for us, and people would look. We were all in university, gifted physically and mentally, and we basked in each other's presence. Every walk down the street is different. It will be different if your hair is different, if your clothes are different, if the time of day, your mood, your body language, your expression, every little change in ourselves presents a unique reaction in others, creating a unique pattern of interactions every walk we take down the street. This pattern is what paints impression of ourselves towards the outside world. This experience is even more greatly affected by who we in the company of, and people invariable attempt to imagine stories that may explain your presence, your friendship and the cause for the want in each other's company. I loved how imposing yet gentle we appeared.

When guys to clubbing, there is always a pregame ritual. The goal is essentially to arise from the ritual in a state of mind that we imagine women may find us most confident and attractive. This is normally done with alcohol and drugs, or if you're really desperate, lifting at the gym. I had my doubts about this ritual at this point, and I was a champion of femininity in men. Men have every reason in the world for aggression, and I already had experienced life enough to know that the best course of action is to pick what is contrasting, what is rare, what is difficult or seemingly impossible, what is perfectly counter intuitive, and that where and when the need for aggression presents itself, one should seek a method of resolution through gentility.

I had suffered plenty of abuse by then. Kai lived through hell but is so pure at heart that it has not affected him. Robert was physicality himself, and he was extremely violent and would threaten me while drunk, but he always calmed down when I would hug and kiss him. As much as I had suffered, as much reason I had to hate, some part of me suggested beauty is always found in the opposite direction one usually expects, and I knew that it was not drugs and lifting that would give us some true sense of gentility, but some form of sacrifice much like a tribal inoculation. We were in the hotel around 8pm. We were on shrooms, we were high, we were drunk, and we even had molly with us. Before we went out, I couldn't stop them from going to the gym on the rooftop of the hotel. They apparently wanted a quick lift before heading out, but I did not join them. I observed, and I felt my friends looked more beautiful without the tension, the stress. I didn't like seeing them with the necks strained and the veins pulsating, their faces red and jaws clenched. I realized in that moment that it wasn't just me who had anger from childhood, but everyone. We were taking drugs, lifting, and going out to rid ourselves of the anger we've had from disappointments and from meaningless suffering. It wasn't just me who was angry about life, they were also.

We took the molly before we drove to Rue Saint Laurent, and by the time we parked, it was hitting us. We had some alcohol we wanted to drink before heading into the club so we went down an alleyway. The molly created an insatiable need to bond, and we all felt it. However, I also felt that the very thing that stopped us from being able bond was essentially the culmination of all the disappointments and transgressions we had suffered, and each of us had already accumulated a wall of insensitivity and emotionlessness. Meeting a girl should be the most natural thing in the world to us at that point in life. However, we could hardly communicate with each other, and we were certainly not meeting girls in this terrified mindset. You could say it was toxic masculinity, or just the world being a bit too much. This was pathetic. I had an idea.

I explained to the guys what I had just realized. I explained how we need to first feel that we are able to trust each other and that letting down our guard is the only way to relax ourselves into meeting women. It is perfectly natural and normal for a guy and a girl to meet and want to get to know each other, what is not natural is whatever behavioural tendency that exists to prohibit that. So I explained to the guys that what we need to do is punch each other once in the shoulder each time, to break ourselves of that tendency towards insensitivity and to accept the violence and anger in each other. In a strange way, I felt like that made perfect sense, and it was the right thing to do. We were from Toronto, a city, and like any city, people eventually come to realize that it's a concentrated crab bucket.

The crab bucket mentality is ugliness, and at the age of 19, it is the most pervasive thought one may have. We were insecure about our social and economic status, and we were insecure about how we looked. Most of all, at that moment, we were insecure about each other, and about seeing each other do better than one another. If one succeeded, the rest would fail, and what emotional bonds we created would be wasted as one of us would run off with a girl or be dedicated towards a career. We were afraid of losing one of us first, and it seemed to us that even amongst our circle, the same coldness that we felt in the outside world was forming even between us. It was the same form of jealousy that got me entangled with the fat guy years ago, and I still remember how they led me into the washroom so he could get a punch back at me. People want each other's success only in so far as it benefits them, nobody actually just wants to each you succeed, succeed, and succeed.

It was raining lightly and slightly below freezing. I asked Robert to punch me first. I figured that would get the ball rolling in the right direction. I was about 150lbs at the time, I have a girl-like frame but very board shoulders, but taking a punch from him would let them know that I was not fucking around. I remembered this moment, and I wanted to overcome it. I knew for certain they felt the same anger, but while it was not from the same set of memories, we all suffered from the same original sin. I braced myself, and he hit me. It wasn't as bad as I thought, so I knew he went easy on me. I told him go for a real one instead, and he does. I staggered, but I was alright. He took a drink and braced himself to ask me to punch him. I did, and threw whole weight into it like I would in tennis pushing from the legs first. It made a loud thud. We hugged. Kai and I then took our turn. He punched me first, and then I punched him next. We hugged and took a drink. Kai and Robert then exchanged punches. Robert held back like he did with me. We all hugged and took another drink, making note that if Robert actually used his full force, neither of us would standing.

We finished what alcohol we had and walked back towards the street. I can't explain that feeling, but it was a calm I never felt before. I'm sure the feeling was mutual, despite having no true understanding of what we just did. We remained good friends many years later, and you could hear the tone of true respect when we say each other's names in conversations.

 

[RememberWhatUCameFor]

lol fuck this fat dude and your mom

instead of killing yourself you could go no contact with her and try to leave everything behind?

 

[sad_frog]

I'm having trouble finding what I want to express...Except maybe "thanks," thanks so much for sharing. It is obvious that youve spent many hours trying to understand and cope with the pain inside.. That takes a lot of determination and you should be proud.

Though our lives aren't that similar I have found much comfort reading this last post.
I spend a lot of time thinking about the boundaries I have put up and how they came to be. I think about how everyone experiences pain and that our planet is controlled by cruelness. I think about opening up because I can no longer deny that I need someone to have my back but then watch myself struggle to be honest with myself and others. Life feels so redundant and confusing, I don't know if the pain will ever fade or if we are forced to learn the same lessons over again...Regardless, it makes it all a bit easier when one can open up and relate with other people.

I'm glad you were able to find a group of friends you could feel comfortable with. I hope that the future holds the same.
peace be with you

 

[Sadwind]

It's nice to meet another narcissist. I am sorry for all the pain you're going through with your life and your mother. I can relate, with mine she is nearly physically violent and insane. She should never have been a mother, but it's easy to have a child when you're attractive. people overlook everything about you when they see what they want to see. She's a monster underneath.

I feel for you, truly.

 

[JulienSorel]

It's nice to meet another narcissist. I am sorry for all the pain you're going through with your life and your mother. I can relate, with mine she is nearly physically violent and insane. She should never have been a mother, but it's easy to have a child when you're attractive. people overlook everything about you when they see what they want to see. She's a monster underneath.

I feel for you, truly.

Thank you.

My mother was made a monster by my father. My father by his environment, and his environment by communism. At the end of the day, the true monster is the serpent who persuaded Eve to tempt Adam into eating the apple, so it all really just ties to the original sin.

In other words, despite the horror I have endured, there is always a beautiful side to it, and that I was no better or worse than any of them.

However that moment in my life was just too fucking horrible for anyone's good faith.

 

[pole]

I am Chinese, both sides of my family are sick people, and they made sure I would turn out the same way. I was born in China, and I lived in Colorado between the age of seven to eleven. When I returned to China, I found school impossible to adjust to. The main factor was the level of gentility, and there was always this impossibly thick aura of animosity towards each other. Everyone was either passive aggressive, or just flat out aggressive, and if you weren't so, you would be picked on. I spoke perfect American English but hardly any Chinese at the time, and to make matters ridiculous, none of the teachers could actually speak English, and that was made evident only when I arrived.

The teachers and the students hated me, I represented the truth that the education system there was terrible, and the oppressive authority they prescribe is just to cover up their lack of expertise. The teacher also made sure to talk about how I had an expensive computer at home, how I had a good life in America and I wasn't used to their conditions, and how I must think I was above them all. She wanted everyone to internalize jealousy towards me. We were canned like sardines in classrooms too small and tables too short for our legs, but we were screamed at if the tables and chairs did not line up a certain way with the tiles on the ground. The teacher loved screaming about that.

I was 13 and in grade 8. A guy shoulder checked me twice one day. I had only spoke to him once in what I thought was a friendly conversation, and I remember he was half a head shorter than me but four times as wide. The second time he shoulder checked me, I punched him twice on the back. He kept walking, turned around, and asked if I wanted to fight. This happens several times between people everyday, and the rule is you simply say yes and do not back down. I did that. He walked away, and I thought that was the end of it.

For the rest of the day, people started swarming me telling me I am dead, and that it was good knowing me. It was literally everyone, and this is a Chinese school with 45 students per classroom. It was disgusting. I realized I was being mobbed, and everyone in the mob began to understand that as well. These were jealous people. As I walked out of the school, some 20 people were around me constantly saying how it was nice to know me, and how I would be dead in a very brutal fashion. I walked out of the school gate and saw the fat guy with almost 20 people around him, and even a guy with a moped. Some of them looked ecstatic. I started walking towards home, and they followed me. I had some 40 people around me constantly threatening me, the fat guy was absolutely determined I was going to fight him, and the moped guy circled around me nonstop. I said fuck it, and walked back towards the school gate.

I approached the security guards at the school gate. I told them that those people were out there for me. He told me to sit down in the office and gave me the phone to call my parents. The fat guy approached him in the security who blocked him at the door. He started him down for almost 10 seconds and walked away. There were about 100 people now outside, I was terrified, and I started crying. They eventually dispersed, and I walked home with my some friends. This was Monday.

I told my mother, I explained the entire event and I told her I wanted to change schools. I understood immediately after that day how the school really felt, and how much jealousy they had internalized. I knew I needed to get out of there. My mom refused to help me in any way, and even asked me "so what do you want me to do? What can I do?" I told her we could switch schools or she can talk to the principle. She refused to do either, and said she will tell my uncle, who will ask the principle for the bullying to stop or he will threaten to write about it because he is a newspaper editor. I didn't understand why this was her solution, and she said she will talk to my uncle about it. I thought it was insane that she wasn't doing something immediately, She told her she will ask her parents to come over from my uncles house to walk me after school. I didn't know why she was suddenly dragging the family (who didn't like us) into preventing me from being bullied instead of dealing with it directly, but she smiled so sweetly and said it so gently, and then immediately put up a face of disgust when I mentioned any other alternative. She was so adamant about it that I went with it.

The next day (Tuesday), the bully confronted me every day after class, and a large bunch of my classmates joined him. Nobody wanted to help me, and even some people who I had tried to avoid were now using the opportunity to criticize me. Everyone acted what happened was my fault. I was getting exhausted by a threat to my life every 5 seconds by 45 people in a classroom. Even the teacher started joining in, when I didn't seem attentive, she asked if she should get the fat guy to visit me. He became their champion.

At home, I told my mom again of what happened. She said she couldn't do anything, and she wouldn't know what to say to the principle. I remember she told me that before she put me in that school, the principle likes to sing, and that I like to sing, and that we can sing together. She said that. I kept asking her to tell something to the principle or to switch schools for me, but I didn't know how to explain the anxiety caused by death threats every 10 seconds by my 45 classmates, I could only show it. She said my uncle is busy and he will talk to the principle on Friday.

By Wednesday, I felt like a zombie. I walked to school waiting for more death threats. Some people had started asking me for protection money, and I even saw some people fighting over each other to ask me for protection money. The fat guy started asking me for money as well, and even some of my classmates joined in as a joke. This all happened with our teachers just 20 meters from the classroom in their office. I was so worn down by that many faces every day that seemed so happy I was being bullied that I eventually thought I had to give the fat guy what he wants.

I went home again to my mom, who told me my uncle is busy and it would have to wait until Friday. I kept asking her why she was letting me endure this, and she just kept saying both her and my uncle are very busy with work, and they couldn't do anything. My friends also started criticizing me for not being more friendly and open with people, and not being more generous to them.

On Thursday, the fat guy said he I wanted things to stop, that he would have to punch me once in the bathroom in the back for what I did, that I would also have to give him money to get it all to stop. I resisted at first, but he got everyone to join in. By the afternoon, it was too much, it was just too many people talking to me about it. I agreed. I went to the bathroom, he punched me once as hard as he could in the back. I still have a blue scar from it on the back of my shoulder. Everyone jumped around excitedly, it was the happiest I have ever seen everyone. It was over for me too, I walked back like an idiot actually smiling that it was all over. I gave him money later and he said everything is okay now.

I went home, and I told my mom my uncle would finally get a chance on Friday to tell the principle on Friday. She also told me that she had an idea, that I should make friends. If I made friends, we can get together and beat him up. I thought that was a great idea. I had lost my free will already. I just went with it.

On Friday, the bully gave me back my money, I was surprised. We went to the principles office shortly after. He made is write a note stating we would stop fighting. I just wanted the abuse to stop, it was so constant, and so many Chinese people. I hated my people from that day on, and myself included. He left me alone after that.

From that day onward, everyone would tease me and ask me if I wanted to go to the washroom and have another talk, and if they should get the fat guy to ask me for money. I eventually started skipping that school, hating everything and everyone about it. I hated my mother, I hated my uncle, I hated everything that spoke Chinese. When I skipped school, I would bring with me a copy of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, the signet classic edition. I still have it. It was the thickest thing I could find on my mom's bookshelf, and I read it while eating takeout pizza or whatever groceries I have on the rooftop of my apartment if it was warm or the fire escape if it was cold.

I read other books too, like The Intelligent Investor, His Dark Materials (Philip Pullman), and the Redwall series, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings. That was my education for over a year, with no math and certainly no Chinese. Only English like I knew and loved. I also started working out, because people in America always seem to be killing themselves outside doing some form of high intensity training, so I would do body weight exercises during my reading sessions. Nothing was done for fun, only utility, just like my impression of the education system. My personal education regime would evolve into into math, ballet, and kale shakes, but this occurred too late in my life. My mother simply assumed I was going to school.

After that event, I gave up on my mother for good. The hate that was internalized in me in that moment made me the perfect psychopath. We began developing the most passive aggressive mother son relationship after that event, and in moments where she goes on her narcissistic rage, I am occasionally pushed to physically assault her while humiliating her in the worst way I can imagine. I know there really is no love behind there, and I sincerely do not feel guilt or remorse, only annoyance at the noise she keeps making. I even find enjoyment in it sometimes. I have read enough literature and studied enough psychology and philosophy to accept myself for what I am, and I feel no shame.

We moved to Canada when I was 15. I lived with no money and hardly any meals, we fought and fought and fought, and I almost never knew what the fight was about, it was just her screaming. She told me she would be gone for a week during October, and she was gone for a full year. I lived the first year in Canada by myself, having fun figuring out groceries and winter clothing. I started taking drugs, drinking, smoking weed, and had rollar coaster grades (I was smart, but not consistent). A friend introduced me to shoplifting, and that kept me fed so well. Shoplifting cheese is what made me 6'1, but I don't do it anymore. I graduated from York University in Economics at 22 but by then, my sanity had been eroded by my mom's more creative attacks. Things have kept getting worse, but I have had a few beautiful moments.

I'm not going to be able to last longer.

Oddly enough i go to the same school right lol.

 

[gingerplum]

It was your mother's job to make you feel safe, secure, and loved; she failed you in every possible way.

It's heartbreaking to hear how neglected you were growing up, insecure emotionally, about your own safety, and even about food.

Your mother should never have had children, period.

 

[heartless_95]

I'm really sorry that youve been through hell. You're incredibly strong for still being here despite all of this crap that you've been put through. You're still able to develop personal relationships with others and it sounds like you still have empathy and the ability to forgive judging from your relationships with your friends which speaks to your strength of character.
I don't think you're a psychopath.. you're traumatized emotionally from being treated like a pariah at your school for no reason at all other than that you had a Western upbringing and also living with that with zero support from your own family who is supposed to love and protect you during times like these. Your mom definitely failed you and it sounds like she has huge issues of her own that need sorting out.
If theres any resources you can find for complex PTSD, please seek them out. You're not a lost cause and you've come very far.
Sounds like we are from the same area. My inbox is always open if you want to chat/vent.

 

[Pan]

I am Chinese, both sides of my family are sick people, and they made sure I would turn out the same way. I was born in China, and I lived in Colorado between the age of seven to eleven. When I returned to China, I found school impossible to adjust to. The main factor was the level of gentility, and there was always this impossibly thick aura of animosity towards each other. Everyone was either passive aggressive, or just flat out aggressive, and if you weren't so, you would be picked on. I spoke perfect American English but hardly any Chinese at the time, and to make matters ridiculous, none of the teachers could actually speak English, and that was made evident only when I arrived.

The teachers and the students hated me, I represented the truth that the education system there was terrible, and the oppressive authority they prescribe is just to cover up their lack of expertise. The teacher also made sure to talk about how I had an expensive computer at home, how I had a good life in America and I wasn't used to their conditions, and how I must think I was above them all. She wanted everyone to internalize jealousy towards me. We were canned like sardines in classrooms too small and tables too short for our legs, but we were screamed at if the tables and chairs did not line up a certain way with the tiles on the ground. The teacher loved screaming about that.

I was 13 and in grade 8. A guy shoulder checked me twice one day. I had only spoke to him once in what I thought was a friendly conversation, and I remember he was half a head shorter than me but four times as wide. The second time he shoulder checked me, I punched him twice on the back. He kept walking, turned around, and asked if I wanted to fight. This happens several times between people everyday, and the rule is you simply say yes and do not back down. I did that. He walked away, and I thought that was the end of it.

For the rest of the day, people started swarming me telling me I am dead, and that it was good knowing me. It was literally everyone, and this is a Chinese school with 45 students per classroom. It was disgusting. I realized I was being mobbed, and everyone in the mob began to understand that as well. These were jealous people. As I walked out of the school, some 20 people were around me constantly saying how it was nice to know me, and how I would be dead in a very brutal fashion. I walked out of the school gate and saw the fat guy with almost 20 people around him, and even a guy with a moped. Some of them looked ecstatic. I started walking towards home, and they followed me. I had some 40 people around me constantly threatening me, the fat guy was absolutely determined I was going to fight him, and the moped guy circled around me nonstop. I said fuck it, and walked back towards the school gate.

I approached the security guards at the school gate. I told them that those people were out there for me. He told me to sit down in the office and gave me the phone to call my parents. The fat guy approached him in the security who blocked him at the door. He started him down for almost 10 seconds and walked away. There were about 100 people now outside, I was terrified, and I started crying. They eventually dispersed, and I walked home with my some friends. This was Monday.

I told my mother, I explained the entire event and I told her I wanted to change schools. I understood immediately after that day how the school really felt, and how much jealousy they had internalized. I knew I needed to get out of there. My mom refused to help me in any way, and even asked me "so what do you want me to do? What can I do?" I told her we could switch schools or she can talk to the principle. She refused to do either, and said she will tell my uncle, who will ask the principle for the bullying to stop or he will threaten to write about it because he is a newspaper editor. I didn't understand why this was her solution, and she said she will talk to my uncle about it. I thought it was insane that she wasn't doing something immediately, She told her she will ask her parents to come over from my uncles house to walk me after school. I didn't know why she was suddenly dragging the family (who didn't like us) into preventing me from being bullied instead of dealing with it directly, but she smiled so sweetly and said it so gently, and then immediately put up a face of disgust when I mentioned any other alternative. She was so adamant about it that I went with it.

The next day (Tuesday), the bully confronted me every day after class, and a large bunch of my classmates joined him. Nobody wanted to help me, and even some people who I had tried to avoid were now using the opportunity to criticize me. Everyone acted what happened was my fault. I was getting exhausted by a threat to my life every 5 seconds by 45 people in a classroom. Even the teacher started joining in, when I didn't seem attentive, she asked if she should get the fat guy to visit me. He became their champion.

At home, I told my mom again of what happened. She said she couldn't do anything, and she wouldn't know what to say to the principle. I remember she told me that before she put me in that school, the principle likes to sing, and that I like to sing, and that we can sing together. She said that. I kept asking her to tell something to the principle or to switch schools for me, but I didn't know how to explain the anxiety caused by death threats every 10 seconds by my 45 classmates, I could only show it. She said my uncle is busy and he will talk to the principle on Friday.

By Wednesday, I felt like a zombie. I walked to school waiting for more death threats. Some people had started asking me for protection money, and I even saw some people fighting over each other to ask me for protection money. The fat guy started asking me for money as well, and even some of my classmates joined in as a joke. This all happened with our teachers just 20 meters from the classroom in their office. I was so worn down by that many faces every day that seemed so happy I was being bullied that I eventually thought I had to give the fat guy what he wants.

I went home again to my mom, who told me my uncle is busy and it would have to wait until Friday. I kept asking her why she was letting me endure this, and she just kept saying both her and my uncle are very busy with work, and they couldn't do anything. My friends also started criticizing me for not being more friendly and open with people, and not being more generous to them.

On Thursday, the fat guy said he I wanted things to stop, that he would have to punch me once in the bathroom in the back for what I did, that I would also have to give him money to get it all to stop. I resisted at first, but he got everyone to join in. By the afternoon, it was too much, it was just too many people talking to me about it. I agreed. I went to the bathroom, he punched me once as hard as he could in the back. I still have a blue scar from it on the back of my shoulder. Everyone jumped around excitedly, it was the happiest I have ever seen everyone. It was over for me too, I walked back like an idiot actually smiling that it was all over. I gave him money later and he said everything is okay now.

I went home, and I told my mom my uncle would finally get a chance on Friday to tell the principle on Friday. She also told me that she had an idea, that I should make friends. If I made friends, we can get together and beat him up. I thought that was a great idea. I had lost my free will already. I just went with it.

On Friday, the bully gave me back my money, I was surprised. We went to the principles office shortly after. He made is write a note stating we would stop fighting. I just wanted the abuse to stop, it was so constant, and so many Chinese people. I hated my people from that day on, and myself included. He left me alone after that.

From that day onward, everyone would tease me and ask me if I wanted to go to the washroom and have another talk, and if they should get the fat guy to ask me for money. I eventually started skipping that school, hating everything and everyone about it. I hated my mother, I hated my uncle, I hated everything that spoke Chinese. When I skipped school, I would bring with me a copy of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, the signet classic edition. I still have it. It was the thickest thing I could find on my mom's bookshelf, and I read it while eating takeout pizza or whatever groceries I have on the rooftop of my apartment if it was warm or the fire escape if it was cold.

I read other books too, like The Intelligent Investor, His Dark Materials (Philip Pullman), and the Redwall series, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings. That was my education for over a year, with no math and certainly no Chinese. Only English like I knew and loved. I also started working out, because people in America always seem to be killing themselves outside doing some form of high intensity training, so I would do body weight exercises during my reading sessions. Nothing was done for fun, only utility, just like my impression of the education system. My personal education regime would evolve into into math, ballet, and kale shakes, but this occurred too late in my life. My mother simply assumed I was going to school.

After that event, I gave up on my mother for good. The hate that was internalized in me in that moment made me the perfect psychopath. We began developing the most passive aggressive mother son relationship after that event, and in moments where she goes on her narcissistic rage, I am occasionally pushed to physically assault her while humiliating her in the worst way I can imagine. I know there really is no love behind there, and I sincerely do not feel guilt or remorse, only annoyance at the noise she keeps making. I even find enjoyment in it sometimes. I have read enough literature and studied enough psychology and philosophy to accept myself for what I am, and I feel no shame.

We moved to Canada when I was 15. I lived with no money and hardly any meals, we fought and fought and fought, and I almost never knew what the fight was about, it was just her screaming. She told me she would be gone for a week during October, and she was gone for a full year. I lived the first year in Canada by myself, having fun figuring out groceries and winter clothing. I started taking drugs, drinking, smoking weed, and had rollar coaster grades (I was smart, but not consistent). A friend introduced me to shoplifting, and that kept me fed so well. Shoplifting cheese is what made me 6'1, but I don't do it anymore. I graduated from York University in Economics at 22 but by then, my sanity had been eroded by my mom's more creative attacks. Things have kept getting worse, but I have had a few beautiful moments.

I'm not going to be able to last longer.

A very painful read, and as only a true survivor can recount it. Sadly, IT never goes away, but haunts its victims forever. I know even now, some thirty years later, I still feel the pain and fear.