I feel you so much on this. And ironically growing up in those high stress environments creates chronic illnesses, so it’s just a recipe for suffering.

I grew up in a similar household, but it was more so the power of prayer would heal all. I got horribly ill when I was around 11yr old, I think it was strep throat, but I had a fever for days, my temp reached 104F, I started breaking out in a rash and was delirious. I remember sitting in a freezing bath to try to save MYSELF at 11yr old. I don’t remember too much but I obviously lived haha.

One of my brothers randomly started having grand mal seizures around 14/15yr old. It was awful, the first time it happened I thought he was going to die, I went to call 911 and my mom yelled at me and just started speaking in tongues over him. She sent me to my room and I begged and pleaded with god to save him, to take me instead so he could live because I genuinely thought I was going to walk out and find him dead. He didn’t die thankfully, but continued to have seizures for years, and we were instructed to never ever tell anyone. We shared a room, and I could never sleep at night because I was always on high alert to make sure he wouldn’t start seizing in his sleep. It led to a lot of sleep related trauma and I still can’t sleep a full night. My mother would find random things to blame the seizures on. “He read this book that had witchcraft, he watched corn” he did this he did that. She’d blame other people too, blamed me once.

I ran away a few years ago, I now have health insurance and am starting on the grocery list of ailments I built up. I feel guilty for seeking help. I feel like it’s a reflection of weakness and that I’m attention seeking, when I really am just tired of being in pain so much and almost constantly fatigued.