That is quite a story from @thisismarilynb and it mirrors my experience in many ways, and I thank you for taking the time to share your experience.

I too was always "teacher's pet" and throughout my early life, until I went to college I tended to seek out the parents of my friends, even calling them "mom." My mother was controlling and also a narcissist. My teenage years were difficult for me because of the abuse at home, having 2 alcoholic parents. I was also the youngest of three, my sisters 8 and 10 years old, so when I was a teenager they had already left home and while they too were abused, they were unaware of what was happening to me. While I was an outstanding student, I began acting out at school, which led to a referral to a therapist, at which time I told this person that I was having a relationship with my then 16 year old best friend, who is now a local celebrity on one of our news channels. After a period of time my parents wanted to know what I was telling the therapist and threatened her with a lawsuit to gain information. Subsequently, my parents were told about my relationship, which caused great turmoil in our household. It was at that point that my parents sent me to a sex therapist so I could be "fixed." I am laughing as I write this because I can still hear my father say, " it is just like if you have a broken arm honey, this therapy will "fix" you." My mother destroyed everything I had received from my friend, changed our phone number and things of that nature, even threatened to make me attend another high school. After a period of time I was "rewarded" with my first car, but still remained in contact, surreptitiously, with my friend.

Later, wanting to attend college and wanting my parents to pay for my education, I acted as though I had been "fixed." However, when my sister took me to the college, which was not my first choice, but rather my mother's, my sister told me that my mother had said I could not major in art, something that I had wanted to do. I was only allowed to take one art class each semester. A perfect set up to fail, as my major in college was Ag/Business which meant a lot of science, which was not my strength. During college I did all the "right" things, joined a sorority as one of my sisters had, dated boys etc. Essentially living a double life, which was difficult to say the least.

In any event, all of this shaped who I was or who I became when I graduated from college. I dated men and introduced them to my parents, who were thrilled. However, at some point after my then boyfriend broke off our relationship, I realized that I could no longer live such a lie, or rather live a "fake" life. While the breakup was rather heartbreaking, it was also fortuitous, as I met a woman, introduced her to my parents and we began a 10 year relationship. While it was imperfect as many relationships are, I recognized that I was drawn to people who were controlling, probably because I wanted someone to take care of me in some way. Afterall, my mother often lamented about how depressed she was after I was born, and how as a baby I was passed around to the women in our neighborhood for the first 6 months of my life because my mother could not take care of me. That care was left to my sisters and neighbors. Later, and after my mother died, I met someone else, the sociopath with whom I spent the next 10 years with.

It was not until I became afflicted with whatever disease I have that I have become more empowered, think I am a great person, humanitarian and my kindness to others knows no bounds, The exact opposite of my mother and one of my older sisters also a narcissistic bully, the one who stopped talking to me 2 years ago and who is homophobic The other night while working on my various art projects, I thought to myself, "it took me to age 60 to finally like myself and I think I am a great person." In some ways this felt sad because it took me so long to reach this revelation of sorts. Admittedly, I finally had that pity party that @brandysparks spoke about in an earlier post. And while no one was here to pick me up off the floor, it was as though my pity party was really more of a revelation.

Also, my recent experience with the Christian based therapist brought back to me so many memories of those times when I did not value myself or what I was doing currently in my life. I can still hear her telling me when I told her about my great sense of foreboding that " I am not getting this, God is telling me you are going to be okay." Total invalidation of my feelings. And for what it is worth I have gone ahead and submitted a formal complaint against this therapist with the California Board of Behavioral Health. It was not without great thought and consideration that I did this, because I know that the process of making such a complaint is long and arduous. However, I am at that point in my life where I am no longer willing to put up with instances where I feel there has been a great sense of injustice. I guess I must owe my "disease" a thank you, because in the past I would not have done something like this. Speaking up for myself and things of that nature. I am still kind and give much of myself to others, but now recognize that sometimes I have given too much of myself to the wrong people, and I have stopped doing this.

While I currently have "no one to talk to" a social worker from my insurance company is calling me next week, because I really do need someone to talk to about how I feel with this chronic illness. I am more tired than usual, not sleeping, but still force myself to stay up late to work on my art, still lift weights when I don't want to because I feel that if I stop, then I am giving into my "illness" and I do not want to give it any more power than it has presently. I hope this makes sense.

I have said before that I am not a great fan of "social media." However this platform feels like a safe place to share and exchange information. Not only do the experiences of others help me, it also gives me a chance to help and encourage others. It feels like a "safe" environment to tell my stories and speak of my experiences with the hope that my story might help another person. I still wake up everyday and tell myself, " I got another day, so many did not, and I am going to make this one count."

Thank you to anyone who reads this. I hope that you find a good therapist, knowing that good ones are hard to find these days. I wish I could teach you how to feel joy, but I know that has to come from within. I hope that this platform brings you some sense of peace, knowing that there are others who suffer as you do. If you were my neighbor, I would do everything possible to show you how I have developed more self confidence and more of a sense of self worth.

Hang in there, you have this.