Me, Myself and I *Not a nice story triggering typish thing*
Posted: Sat Dec 24, 2011 11:28 pm
I don't know if this story is appropriate but it's mine. Delete it if it's not. I don't care. Honest i don't, it's just my life.
My mum hates me. She is Schizophrenic. I grew up with 3 brothers and I was the only girl. When ppl hear that, they make presumptions, i let them. They presume that, as the only girl, I was spoiled rotten and treated like a princess and i adore the idology.
The truth is so very far from that, and i'll never understand it really, but when my mum had her periods of not being well, she hated all females. She hated neighbours, store attendants, ppl at church, anyone who was female. But for me that meant she hated me. She would beat on me, tell me i was evil. She was convinced i was possessed and was "out to get her". She would change between weeks of locking me in my room with nothing, no toy's; books, bedding, food or anything to other periods of constantly having to see where i was so she would know what i was up to. My first day of school, we made clown faces out of paper tissue and shoe boxes. I took mine home with pride to show my mum. I ended up in hospital after she beat me cos she said i was taking the micky outta her. I never told anyone what went on at home. Why? Cos i didn't know any different and i was overawed by the immense power this women had over me. I endured her beatings and mental torment for 16 years. I ran away a few times but always got brought home again and for some reason, i never told.
On my 16th birthday i left home. i can remember packing my bags as clear as day. I was sooooo sure of myself. My mum asked where i was going. I simply said, i'm outta here. I'm gone. She said "but we have cake for ur birthday". I'll never forget it. Like cake would make up for hating me for 16 years. Like cake would heal the physical and mental scars. Like cake would mean that her encouraging my 3 brothers to beat on me when she couldn't be bothered herself meant nothing. For giving them permision to treat me like dirt. For the fact that everyone in the neighbourhood knew what she thought of me and only had to threaten me with "telling my mother" to get me to do what they wanted which was sometimes the foulest things u can imagine.
So anyhow, i escaped. I spent a year living in a pub and working for room and board. I really enjoyed the freedom and respect i had there. Then the management at the place changed. Things changed rapidly and i was too niave to recognise the difference in peoples attitudes. I was raped by the new bar manager and head chef within a month of them joining. That's it really. Life over. I quit then. Ppl call what i have depression. They say i want to end it all because of a chemical imbalance in my brain. I defy anyone to live what i've lived through and be normal. I don't know what i am and neither do i care really. My mum and those men took that away from me. I will never escape. There's always someone ready, willing and able to hurt me.
My mum hates me. She is Schizophrenic. I grew up with 3 brothers and I was the only girl. When ppl hear that, they make presumptions, i let them. They presume that, as the only girl, I was spoiled rotten and treated like a princess and i adore the idology.
The truth is so very far from that, and i'll never understand it really, but when my mum had her periods of not being well, she hated all females. She hated neighbours, store attendants, ppl at church, anyone who was female. But for me that meant she hated me. She would beat on me, tell me i was evil. She was convinced i was possessed and was "out to get her". She would change between weeks of locking me in my room with nothing, no toy's; books, bedding, food or anything to other periods of constantly having to see where i was so she would know what i was up to. My first day of school, we made clown faces out of paper tissue and shoe boxes. I took mine home with pride to show my mum. I ended up in hospital after she beat me cos she said i was taking the micky outta her. I never told anyone what went on at home. Why? Cos i didn't know any different and i was overawed by the immense power this women had over me. I endured her beatings and mental torment for 16 years. I ran away a few times but always got brought home again and for some reason, i never told.
On my 16th birthday i left home. i can remember packing my bags as clear as day. I was sooooo sure of myself. My mum asked where i was going. I simply said, i'm outta here. I'm gone. She said "but we have cake for ur birthday". I'll never forget it. Like cake would make up for hating me for 16 years. Like cake would heal the physical and mental scars. Like cake would mean that her encouraging my 3 brothers to beat on me when she couldn't be bothered herself meant nothing. For giving them permision to treat me like dirt. For the fact that everyone in the neighbourhood knew what she thought of me and only had to threaten me with "telling my mother" to get me to do what they wanted which was sometimes the foulest things u can imagine.
So anyhow, i escaped. I spent a year living in a pub and working for room and board. I really enjoyed the freedom and respect i had there. Then the management at the place changed. Things changed rapidly and i was too niave to recognise the difference in peoples attitudes. I was raped by the new bar manager and head chef within a month of them joining. That's it really. Life over. I quit then. Ppl call what i have depression. They say i want to end it all because of a chemical imbalance in my brain. I defy anyone to live what i've lived through and be normal. I don't know what i am and neither do i care really. My mum and those men took that away from me. I will never escape. There's always someone ready, willing and able to hurt me.