memes

I once cut a small artery above my left elbow right before I left work (We were young and just fucking around) Cant remember my exact age, probably late 16 early 17. I took my undershirt off and tied it around my arm to try to slow the bleeding while I drove home. The blood goes threw the shirt, and is all over the inside car door, seatbelt and created a puddle on my pants in the creases because they were those Dickies work pants that are water resistant. When I got out of the car I heard the blood splat on the ground so I figured it was to much. Went inside tied yarn tightly above it and wrapped an old shirt again around it to replace that one as I didn't have any superglue. I spent the hours of 330am-630am crawling in circles around the house with 2 bottles of resolve, paper towels and wet rags in a bucket trying to clean blood drops off the carpets and floors from when I walked in. The entire time dropping more blood in a near endless cleanup chain with only one thought on my mind. My mother is going to fucking kill me for getting blood on her carpets. At 630 (they open at 7), dizzy as all get out from lack of sleep and blood loss I got back in my car to drive to the clinic just hoping no one pulled me over or I passed out driving. I got there with a blood soaked rag wrapped around my arm and the lady handed me a 2 page clipboard to fill out and I remember staring at her with an expression that clearly said, can't I fill this out while he stitches my arm? Of course not, so 5 minutes later I hand her a clip board mostly free of blood and paperwork that says I have no insurance.

The clinic doctor was great. Told him I had no insurance and couldn't afford anesthetic and asked if he could just do it without. He cleaned it a bit, poked me with a needle of some kind and put in 7 or so stitches. Then marked it down as a consult or something, so I wasn't charged with any of the items he needed/used. (Like $40 for the visit)

I'll always remember that guy. Moral/point of the story though... If you are less afraid of bleeding to death than you are to ask your parents for help, your parents might be abusive as opposed to strict.

This post is starting to make me think people say "strict" strictly as a euphemism.

What I think it means: The parents never bend the rules for their kids.

What it apparently means: The parents have anger problems.

Your own judgement.

The most important office skill was taught by George Costanza: look angry and people will think you're busy working hard.

If anyone catches you, just explain your parents were depraved and totally into that kinda thing, so you're honoring them in a way they'd appreciate.

Only if you get caught.

Extreme strictness is a form of abuse. These symptoms are particular, though not individually exclusive, to strictness. As long as you "behave" you avoid the material effects of the abuse. Other forms of abuse typically have fewer "rules" that can be used as safeguards.

I'm having the exact same issue. Never taught me any life skills. My mum was told by the GP to get me tested for aspergers (as it was then) when I was 15, and she sat on that for over 10 years. Meanwhile I grew up hating myself for not being able to do things that my peers could. Things got worse when I had to get a job and I didn't have the social knowledge to pass interviews. My self esteem got worse, my anxiety ruled my life. I would keep attracting men who treated me like dirt and I couldn't let go because I was so desperate for someone to love and accept me.

She passed away three months ago and now my dad wants to kick me out and I have no freaking idea how to survive in the adult world. I don't know how to go about renting or setting up utilities, I struggle with navigation so my fear of getting lost stops me going places. I'm going to have to leave London because I can't afford a place here. All I get is, when are you moving out? Dad wants to sell the house. It's not fair to deprive your sisters of their share of the house. No offers of help. No acknowledgement that decades of my mum wrapping me in cotton wool and controlling me has left me dysfunctional.

Our parents used to lock up the TV, their room, and food. Guess who got really good at breaking into things and making it look like anything was amiss

The difference can often be negligible to a child's eyes depending on how 'strict' lessons are worded or otherwise expressed. If it is always with scolding after a lack of instruction turned in to idle entertainment that went awry, it sometimes doesn't really matter how relevant the information was.

I got paddled once at school in 6th grade (this was in the '70s when they still did that shit). Two whacks for talking during class or maybe it was because my desk was messy. The teacher let me choose between two paddles (an evil all by itself) and I foolishly chose the one with holes drilled in it (which leads to greater whack speed and less surface area hit). She took me out in the hall and her first blow missed badly - hit me on my hamstrings behind my knees and they kept hurting for days. She said "oh that one doesn't count" and hit me on my ass twice more.

Weirdly enough, she had marched with Martin Luther King Jr. during the civil rights era and played his "I Have a Dream" speech for the class (not on the say day as my paddling, though).

Also, strict doesn't necessarily equal bad in the first place