UNDERSTANDING EMOTIONAL ABUSE AND ADHD IN MY CHILDHOOD
Emotional abuse and ADHD
Growing up with both Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD) can be a profoundly different experience, especially when juxtaposed against the common narratives of childhood in toxic environments. My story diverges significantly from those often told about manipulative or narcissistic parents.
Part One Childhood - ADHD RSD Emotionally Abused
My Childhood Experience
Unlike the typical tale of growing up in a toxic household, my childhood was defined by a degree of independence and a lack of direct parental manipulation or control. I didn’t grow up with manipulative parents. Instead, my childhood was characterized by a unique blend of freedom and inattentiveness from my mother, balanced by a more involved but traditional father.
A Different Kind of Parenting
My mother lived a very outdated lifestyle. She didn’t work, didn’t drive, never left the house, and never handled grocery shopping or bill payments. She didn’t parent me in the conventional sense. My father was the primary caregiver, taking on all parental responsibilities. He was the one who took me to doctor appointments, checked me out of school, picked up my medication, and lectured me when necessary. He was the one who expressed disapproval when he didn’t like something I did.
Looking back, I realize my mother had little to do with me. I never gave her a problem; I stayed out of her way. I wasn’t the little girl who needed her mommy or the girl who craved attention. I think she was content with that. She let my dad handle all the parenting duties. She never yelled at me, never made demands, and never exerted control over me. I was a free child, in a sense.
Growing up with both attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD) can be a profoundly different experience, especially when juxtaposed against the common narratives of childhood in toxic environments. My story diverges significantly from those often told about manipulative or narcissistic parents. That doesn't mean my pain is any less real just because the story is out-of-order.
My Childhood Experience
Unlike the typical tale of growing up in a toxic household, my childhood was defined by a degree of independence and a lack of direct parental manipulation or control. I didn’t grow up with manipulative parents. Instead, my childhood was characterized by a unique blend of freedom and inattentiveness from my mother, balanced by a more involved but traditional father.
A Different Kind of Parenting
My mother lived a very outdated lifestyle. She didn’t work, didn’t drive, never left the house, and never handled grocery shopping or bill payments. She didn’t parent me in the conventional sense. My father was the primary caregiver, taking on all parental responsibilities. He was the one who took me to doctor appointments, checked me out of school, picked up my medication, and lectured me when necessary. He was the one who expressed disapproval when he didn’t like something I did.
Looking back, I realize my mother had little to do with me. I never gave her a problem; I stayed out of her way. I wasn’t the little girl who needed her mommy or the girl who craved attention. I think she was content with that. She let my dad handle all the parenting duties. She never yelled at me, never made demands, and never exerted control over me. I was a free child, in a sense.
The Role of ADHD and RSD
Having ADHD meant that I was always on the go, constantly engaged in some activity or another. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t an outcast and wasn’t bullied. Like many kids from the 90s, I spent most of my time out of the house—at a friend’s place, school, or work. By the time I got home, my parents were usually in bed. This lifestyle suited my restless nature.
RSD, characterized by intense emotions and heightened sensitivity, added another layer to my experience. It amplified the pain of living in a world where emotional responses could be overwhelming, yet it wasn’t influenced by direct parental manipulation. My emotional struggles were more about my internal reactions than external pressures.
Realizing the Difference
It wasn’t until my mother lived with me 30 years later that I started to reflect on our relationship. I realized that while I wasn’t abused as a child, my mother’s absence in my life was significant. She didn’t have anything to do with me, which in some ways was a blessing because it allowed me to be free. However, this freedom also meant that I lacked a maternal figure who could provide emotional support or guidance.
Understanding the Impact
Growing up with a parent who was physically present but emotionally absent is a different kind of challenge. It’s not the overt manipulation or control associated with narcissistic parenting, but a subtle, almost invisible void. My father’s involvement was crucial, yet the lack of a nurturing maternal presence shaped my emotional development.
Concluding Thoughts
In conclusion, my story underscores that the experiences of individuals with ADHD and RSD can vary widely. Not all stories involve toxic, manipulative parents. Some, like mine, involve a more nuanced absence of maternal involvement and a father who shouldered all parental responsibilities. This unique blend of independence and inattentiveness allowed me to believe my childhood was normal, but also left gaps in emotional support that I only recognized much later in life.
Reflection
Reflecting on these experiences is essential for understanding the diverse ways ADHD and RSD manifest in different family dynamics. It's crucial to acknowledge that not all childhoods are defined by toxicity and manipulation. For those who share a similar background, recognizing the nuances of parental involvement—or the lack thereof—can provide valuable insights into their emotional development and current relationships. Unfortunately, just because it didn't happen when I was a child didn't protect me from it happening as an adult.
One of the reasons I have a blog is to learn how to express how I feel. I stay away from conversations with myself and others when the subject emotions come up. It isn't easy knowing that I have a faulty wiring system. I either don't care enough or care too much, I am constantly shifting between the two. I'm not referring to shifting moods, I seem to be trying to separate myself from what happened. I'm putting distance between myself and what had happened. I would assume this is just another way my brain is trying to protect me from the emotional warfare this lady has caused me,
