I realized that everything that happened in childhood lasted forever, at the age of 30, in the process of tremendous depression and the subsequent therapy. I think I had a happy childhood and I was ravaged. As I talked, I've been depressed since I was a kid.
Why I'm so introverted, why I can't trust myself, why I break so easily, why I give up quickly. It's like every time I dig into it under my every dislike feature.
My mother didn't do this to me. Sometimes she wanted to protect me, sometimes she just tried to show me that she loved me. But what he did, almost everything he said, left me deep wounds. He threw away the seeds of my faulty personality. I mean, of course he wouldn't.
He would not have done so if he knew that his overprotective and anxious situations could lead to all of this and that he could leave me with so much pain and deep marks on my personality. He didn't do anything he did deliberately. I keep repeating them all the time, trying to appease my anger. It's not easy, it's not easy.
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