Right now, I am more or less fine. I say more or less, because I have a feeling of dissociation most of the time. But it's not serious. I just feel that the reality I perceive is not real, and that I am in a dream. It's not a dream, as such, it's the feeling of being inside a dream. And that if your friends, parents, acquaintances die, everything will remain the same, because you are alive.
Before, a year and a bit ago, I used to constantly self-harm, and have moments where my mind would go out of my body and I would start screaming and hitting objects; whatever was in front of me, at that moment. During those attacks, I would remember situations (bullying experiences, generally) that made me go out of control. It wasn't purely voluntary, because these memories would come intrusively. At those times my parents would call me crazy (with good reason). We almost always ended up fighting verbally. We would call each other horrible names. My mother instigated me to commit suicide, told me that she wished she had had an abortion, etc. I would also say things like that to her (like I wish she would die, etc.). And, on occasion, we even pushed each other. All this was solved through therapy and medication. And I'm glad, honestly. But I have realised many things. For example, my father never took care of me. He left everything difficult to my mother. My mother, too, didn't let me do anything. No cooking, no cleaning, no going out with friends. She didn't think I was capable of those activities. And every time I failed to do something, she would tell me that I was not capable of doing it.
And every time I failed at something, she forbade me to do it, while complaining about how useless I was. Then, my mother, despite criticising me in everything I did, flattered me for no apparent reason, trying to make me see other people as inferior to me. My parents never taught me not to hit others, and no matter how much I was punished in kindergarten and school, I still hit and insulted my classmates. I was also never taught that animals had feelings, and I don't know how they didn't realise that, as a child, I mistreated family pets. I stopped doing it because I learned it on my own. But it took me years to do it. My father wasn't a good person either. He always tried not to take care of me. One day I discovered a picture of a naked woman on his mobile. Then I got on his WhatsApp at night, and I found out he was cheating on my mother. Instead of telling her, I spent years collecting evidence. I hacked into his email account, I hacked into his Skype, into his other WhatsApp. I also read all his personal diaries. That's when I discovered that he had been cheating on my mother for years. That he used to be a whoremonger. That in his diary there were sexual fantasies of power (rape) with female co-workers. That when he started dating my mother, he had another girlfriend. I also discovered that when I was sick with the flu, he preferred to continue cheating on my mother, ignoring me. And the worst thing is that I know that all of this was done so that I wouldn't be able to live on my own.
Because they are afraid that they can no longer control me. And, in part, they have achieved something. I am not able to take care of myself, and I need someone to tell me what to do all the time. I try to be alone, but I start to feel terrible. I used to feel disgusted when I was with my flatmates. Because I was very envious to hear how they called their parents almost every day, to tell them how they were doing. I never called them, unless I really needed to. In fact, I don't usually talk to my friends on the phone, including WhatsApp. Honestly, I only talk to them when I meet up.
Also, my mother doesn't allow me to get "broken" jeans, tattoos, piercings, etc. It's not like I want, but it makes me angry when she threatens me to never allowing me go into her house again if I get any of those things.
Were they abusive or am I just stupid?
They were abusive. Your mom might have been better at parenting if she had an "easier" child to take care of, but having a child with an emotional disorder is a risk you take on when you have a child, and it's the parents' job to make sure that their child gets the psychological help that they need, or at least to do their best to work with their child if psychological help isn't available where they live. So I have a little empathy for your mom being left to raise a child who needed some extra help regulating emotions alone (she didn't do a good job, but few parents are equipped to). I have no sympathy for your dad, however. He sounds like the type of man who always intended to leave 100% of the parenting up to his wife, and selfishly focused on his own annoyance at having a "difficult" child, instead of on how hard things were for his daughter or wife. Maybe your mom could have been a better parent to you if she had been given more support.
At any rate, there's no point in being weighted down by the past. It sounds like you've come a long way in developing empathy and learning appropriate behavior on your own, despite not having parents to teach you those things. Focus on learning as much as you can from your peers and online about how to take care of yourself and slowly establish more independance from your mom. It sounds like your mom plays a big part in limiting your self confidence and ability to learn, so limit your interactions with her as much as you can reasonably do so.
I am nurodivergent myself, and while my parents were wholly unprepared to raise a child with emotional regulation/behavioral problems, they at least tried to do their best, because they still loved and cared about me. I am sorry that you didn't have parents in your life who could do the same.