Long time listener 1st time forum post
Posted: September 18th, 2014, 10:36 am
Hello everybody!
I have been listening to the podcast since I first enrolled in college at the age of 33 in 2012. During that one year in college, I had a complete meltdown and was at the abysmal depths of despair.
This podcast really helped me through it, I don't think I would even be here if it were not for the Mental Illness Happy Hour.
I'll try to keep the introduction brief.
I was born in southern China in the 80's. My father was a drunken womanizer who had no business have his own family. My mother was controlling obsessive control freak.
They were emotionally absent and never guided me through the challenges of life. All they cared about were my grades.
My birth givers would often use physical punishments if my behavior would not suit their standards. The earliest memory of me being hit was when I was 4.
I used to stutter when I was that age. I asking my father a question and stuttered, which earned me a slap to my face.
The second earliest memory of being hit was when I received my first report card at the age of 6. My younger brother and cousin were in the dinning with me and my father.
My father had seen my report card and was not pleased with results. He asked my brother and cousin to leave and shut the door.
What ensued was the most horrific experience in my life, he grabbed the feather duster and beat me relentlessly with it.
There was no compunction. No Mercy. Just shear unrelenting, vindictive rage.
My mother on the other hand, is narcissistic and sarcastic. That mouth of hers can rapid fire sharp, bee sting, piercing insults that would shatter the will over time.
Her image to the outside world is of the utmost importance. No matter what the cost, including the feelings and dignity of her eldest son.
Growing up, I had never ever seen my father lay a hand on my younger brother. He was always more affectionate with him than with me. I was just his whipping boy
to absorb his frustrations.
For as long as I can remember, I had extreme anxiety towards people. I also didn't start talking until I was 4 years old. I didn't socialize with other people.
My overlords didn't find that odd and did nothing about it.
Being an extreme shy quite boy resulted in me being bullied at school. I went to them for help, but the call fell on deaf years. They told me to take it and eventually,
the bullies will leave me alone. And so I did. The bullies never left me alone.
The teachers were just as vindictive and malicious. The material taught was mind numbing and monotonous. I would daydream all the time
to escape the drudgery that was forced fed to me. I had no desire to excel in academics.
In the year 1990, my parents decided to immigrate to Vancouver Canada. We went on vacation there a few times and my parents loved it there. Also they feared the
inevitable take over of the communists in the distant future. My family was not wealthy by any means, but they were well off in their homeland. Immigration would mean a huge blow to the family finances. It would result in them working menial jobs for low pay. But they made the sacrifice, for fear of the communists, and also for the educational opportunities for my
brother and I.
We went from well off to dirt poor overnight.
We inhabited this crummy rat hole basement. My parents were never around because they had to bust their asses to make ends meet.
I would often come home from school, with my brother, alone.
The bullying was much worse in Canada. I was single out for being Asian, and also for being poor.
This went on for the 1 year in elementary school and through out high school. I never had a girlfriend and rarely talked to girls. I was so fearfully shy in front of them.
When high school was over, I was so relived that I was finally free from that hell hole. I never graduated and I didn't want anything to do with education.
I would lock myself in my room, playing video games, masturbating to porn and sleep. Boy do I love sleep.
I would sleep during the day and stay up all night.
After a few years of wasting my youth, I found myself some dead end low wage menial jobs. I would go to work, come home, play video games,
jack off, and sleep.
At the age of 23, my father died from late stage cancer. At the funeral everybody was crying their balls off but me. I felt nothing for his
departure from this realm. I could breathe a sigh of relieve from his constant belittling of what a good for nothing loser I am.
I returned to the hedonistic self indulging routine for the next 10 years.
Time flies in a blink of an eye, and my mother is close to retirement age and cannot support my lifestyle for much longer. The long hours
of work required to maintain a family household in Vancouver are finally catching up to her.
At the same time, I was tired of working menial jobs. So I studied on my own and got my GED to went to college.
I had a complete nervous breakdown during my time there. I actually put effort in school. Attending classes and doing the assignments to the best of my ability.
But every time I would work on my homework, I would have an emotional flashback to the time when I was beaten by my father for low grades.
I would wake up on school days with panic attacks. My heart feels like it would jump out through my mouth. I never had the confidence that I could
graduate. I always thought my assignments were not good enough.
In class, I would keep to my self and not talk to anybody. I was one of the oldest ones there.
I was jealous of my classmates. They were happy and comfortable with who they are.
And then there is me, shy quite werido who never says anything.
Then I found the Mental Illness happy hour podcast. It help me so much to overcome that difficult time.
That and going to the school counselor on the advice of Paul.
I finished the program and graduated. But I didn't find work my field, because I never bothered to try. I just assumed I would not be hired.
I also didn't brush up on my skills and portfolio because the the severe depression. I would work on something and I would just completely shut down.
2 years after graduation. Still living with in my mother's basement, unemployed, playing video games, jacking off and sleep. Only this time the excessive sleep was more
severe.
One day I received a call from my aunt in my hometown. She can get me a job in a famous major luxury hotel.
I had practically nothing going on in Vancouver. Few friends, no job, and a very bleak future. I also disliked Vancouver a lot. So I took the plunge. It was also a great chance for me to stop
leaching off of my mom and be independent.
But coming back has its own challenges. I would have to interact with people a lot more. My job requires me to smile a lot. I don't like smiling and I have nothing to smile about.
The job is shift work and I have to work longer hours than in Vancouver. The company demands a lot from the employees for little pay.
Also with me living as a shut in for 10+ years means I can't relate to people. I really seem awkward to other people and it shows. I can see it in their faces.
All my life my mind has a tendency to shut down from time to time, making a complete retard of myself. It was happened at work a few times and it did not make a good impression.
The curse of being a loser has reared it's ugly head again. This is just like high school, being looked down on by everyone else. Not being taken seriously. People thinking I'm a fucking retard.
Fuck my life.
I have been listening to the podcast since I first enrolled in college at the age of 33 in 2012. During that one year in college, I had a complete meltdown and was at the abysmal depths of despair.
This podcast really helped me through it, I don't think I would even be here if it were not for the Mental Illness Happy Hour.
I'll try to keep the introduction brief.
I was born in southern China in the 80's. My father was a drunken womanizer who had no business have his own family. My mother was controlling obsessive control freak.
They were emotionally absent and never guided me through the challenges of life. All they cared about were my grades.
My birth givers would often use physical punishments if my behavior would not suit their standards. The earliest memory of me being hit was when I was 4.
I used to stutter when I was that age. I asking my father a question and stuttered, which earned me a slap to my face.
The second earliest memory of being hit was when I received my first report card at the age of 6. My younger brother and cousin were in the dinning with me and my father.
My father had seen my report card and was not pleased with results. He asked my brother and cousin to leave and shut the door.
What ensued was the most horrific experience in my life, he grabbed the feather duster and beat me relentlessly with it.
There was no compunction. No Mercy. Just shear unrelenting, vindictive rage.
My mother on the other hand, is narcissistic and sarcastic. That mouth of hers can rapid fire sharp, bee sting, piercing insults that would shatter the will over time.
Her image to the outside world is of the utmost importance. No matter what the cost, including the feelings and dignity of her eldest son.
Growing up, I had never ever seen my father lay a hand on my younger brother. He was always more affectionate with him than with me. I was just his whipping boy
to absorb his frustrations.
For as long as I can remember, I had extreme anxiety towards people. I also didn't start talking until I was 4 years old. I didn't socialize with other people.
My overlords didn't find that odd and did nothing about it.
Being an extreme shy quite boy resulted in me being bullied at school. I went to them for help, but the call fell on deaf years. They told me to take it and eventually,
the bullies will leave me alone. And so I did. The bullies never left me alone.
The teachers were just as vindictive and malicious. The material taught was mind numbing and monotonous. I would daydream all the time
to escape the drudgery that was forced fed to me. I had no desire to excel in academics.
In the year 1990, my parents decided to immigrate to Vancouver Canada. We went on vacation there a few times and my parents loved it there. Also they feared the
inevitable take over of the communists in the distant future. My family was not wealthy by any means, but they were well off in their homeland. Immigration would mean a huge blow to the family finances. It would result in them working menial jobs for low pay. But they made the sacrifice, for fear of the communists, and also for the educational opportunities for my
brother and I.
We went from well off to dirt poor overnight.
We inhabited this crummy rat hole basement. My parents were never around because they had to bust their asses to make ends meet.
I would often come home from school, with my brother, alone.
The bullying was much worse in Canada. I was single out for being Asian, and also for being poor.
This went on for the 1 year in elementary school and through out high school. I never had a girlfriend and rarely talked to girls. I was so fearfully shy in front of them.
When high school was over, I was so relived that I was finally free from that hell hole. I never graduated and I didn't want anything to do with education.
I would lock myself in my room, playing video games, masturbating to porn and sleep. Boy do I love sleep.
I would sleep during the day and stay up all night.
After a few years of wasting my youth, I found myself some dead end low wage menial jobs. I would go to work, come home, play video games,
jack off, and sleep.
At the age of 23, my father died from late stage cancer. At the funeral everybody was crying their balls off but me. I felt nothing for his
departure from this realm. I could breathe a sigh of relieve from his constant belittling of what a good for nothing loser I am.
I returned to the hedonistic self indulging routine for the next 10 years.
Time flies in a blink of an eye, and my mother is close to retirement age and cannot support my lifestyle for much longer. The long hours
of work required to maintain a family household in Vancouver are finally catching up to her.
At the same time, I was tired of working menial jobs. So I studied on my own and got my GED to went to college.
I had a complete nervous breakdown during my time there. I actually put effort in school. Attending classes and doing the assignments to the best of my ability.
But every time I would work on my homework, I would have an emotional flashback to the time when I was beaten by my father for low grades.
I would wake up on school days with panic attacks. My heart feels like it would jump out through my mouth. I never had the confidence that I could
graduate. I always thought my assignments were not good enough.
In class, I would keep to my self and not talk to anybody. I was one of the oldest ones there.
I was jealous of my classmates. They were happy and comfortable with who they are.
And then there is me, shy quite werido who never says anything.
Then I found the Mental Illness happy hour podcast. It help me so much to overcome that difficult time.
That and going to the school counselor on the advice of Paul.
I finished the program and graduated. But I didn't find work my field, because I never bothered to try. I just assumed I would not be hired.
I also didn't brush up on my skills and portfolio because the the severe depression. I would work on something and I would just completely shut down.
2 years after graduation. Still living with in my mother's basement, unemployed, playing video games, jacking off and sleep. Only this time the excessive sleep was more
severe.
One day I received a call from my aunt in my hometown. She can get me a job in a famous major luxury hotel.
I had practically nothing going on in Vancouver. Few friends, no job, and a very bleak future. I also disliked Vancouver a lot. So I took the plunge. It was also a great chance for me to stop
leaching off of my mom and be independent.
But coming back has its own challenges. I would have to interact with people a lot more. My job requires me to smile a lot. I don't like smiling and I have nothing to smile about.
The job is shift work and I have to work longer hours than in Vancouver. The company demands a lot from the employees for little pay.
Also with me living as a shut in for 10+ years means I can't relate to people. I really seem awkward to other people and it shows. I can see it in their faces.
All my life my mind has a tendency to shut down from time to time, making a complete retard of myself. It was happened at work a few times and it did not make a good impression.
The curse of being a loser has reared it's ugly head again. This is just like high school, being looked down on by everyone else. Not being taken seriously. People thinking I'm a fucking retard.
Fuck my life.