Emotional self-abuse/masochism

This is so strange for me to fathom, but I have always had low self-esteem and loathed myself aggressively and intensely. I never really thought about where it came from and just saw it as being too hyper self-aware and picking out my flaws as if I'm a celebrity. It became a way to fill my mind with thoughts because I'm always thinking and I always need something to analyze, so what better subject than myself? Hating myself and wallowing in my flaws became a compulsion and the thoughts I would fall into when I've run out of things to think about. It became enjoyable to me, sort of like emotional self-harm that I would do to punish myself for existing. I've self-sabotaged myself out of friendships and relationships with the mindset that people wouldn't like me if they saw me the way I saw myself, which made me feel like I deserved the isolated exile that I put myself in.

After living with these thoughts that grew more severe in my teen and young adult years, I thought there wasn't anything to benefit from therapy because I already knew how I feel about myself and I didn't see that changing any time soon. But after some persuasion from my aunt who put my cousins into therapy a few years ago, I thought I should give it a shot since I've reached a slump and roadblock now that I've graduated from university, and I don't know what I'm going to do for the rest of my life (and I don't want to do anything).

When I called to make my first therapy appointment ever, I talked to a lady who assessed me first, and one of her questions was "do you ever hurt yourself?" I said I do hurt myself emotionally, but then she asked if it was ever physical and I said no. Emotional self-harm and physical self-harm are not comparable, but when I said that, it felt like it wasn't even considered self-harm. The thing is, I put myself into more emotional pain because I know I'm not actually going to hurt myself physically, so the emotional abuse gets bottled up and I beat myself up even harder inside.

Then, I started therapy, and I told my therapist about these overwhelming self-loathing thoughts I'm having and how it's even enjoyable. While talking about this, I had no idea where it came from or why I tortured myself with my thoughts so much. I assumed it had to do with the high academic expectations my parents placed on me, which I eventually put on myself. It felt like nothing I did was ever enough. Even if it sounds impressive on paper, it never felt like my achievements were mine (I was taking college courses in high school, went to college and got my Bachelor's in 3 years, and my master's in a year after without taking any gap years). It always feels like one of my peers was more successful, has a high paying job, or in med school while I'm failing my Asian family with art degrees.

I think it's ironic that my aunt thinks I'm thriving and successful while I feel anything but that. I feel miserable and unhappy all the time, yet I can't stop fixating on areas I lack. A few sessions into therapy, I had the thought that this cycle of emotional abuse had come from my family. Growing up, there were endless comments about my appearance and my weight starting from when I was born, and then about school and not having enough friends. I internalized it and thought it was just an Asian culture thing, but now it's starting to feel like it was emotional abuse. It came in microaggressions and subtly manipulative comments. It consisted of tearing down my image and self-esteem for me not fitting into their image of what I should be. It was verbal, but it was never loud. It was gaslighting and guilt tripping me into changing myself. I became a people pleaser for people with no regards for my feelings. They probably thought it was helping, but all it did was hurt.

I think the way my family spoke about me is how I ended up speaking to myself like a punching bag. I have no other place to take out my frustrations, so I take them out on myself. I used to be desensitized to it until I started high school when I started becoming extremely attuned and even more emotionally sensitive to it. Still, I couldn't call out my family because they were the elders and there's a hierarchy of respect. I also didn't realize how much it impacted me until last week.

I just think about when my therapist asked if I had been physically or verbally abused, and I was waiting for her to ask if I had been emotionally abused so I could say yes, but she didn't. I understand that emotional abuse is not on the same level as physical abuse, but why isn't it ever asked about or talked about as often? I know all of this is something I need to bring up in therapy the next time I see her, but I don't really know how to approach it. It feels insane for me to even think about—to accuse my own flesh and blood of emotional abuse. The main perpetrators were my grandparents and my aunts while my parents and cousins were bystanders. I've respected and loved them my entire life, but now I feel like I can't respect or love them anymore even though the emotional abuse had mostly stopped except for one aunt who can't keep her opinions to herself. I'm just so shocked and angry right now at how I've endured it for so long.