thewhitedove29
Member
- Apr 1, 2020
- 10
[I'm going to go into my backstory here, but feel free to skip it all and just write your own experience below.]
So a month ago I'd just moved into my own place where I am now, at the brink of the pandemic starting up here in the UK. I finally escaped my abusive family, adjusted to living alone, cooking and cleaning and taking care of myself. I shared a room with my mother and it was a total nightmare and I had no space. She would go to sleep early, at about 8.30-9, and start screaming at me when I came in the room any later than that. I could never do anything late at night like pack my stuff for the morning, get a change of clothes or even just collect something in my room because A. I'd have to do it in the dark and B. she'd start screaming her head off because the noise would wake her up. Even opening the door to actually go into the room would set her off. She hated being woken up. She had this dehumidifier machine which pumped cold air into the room, and would always make me feel sick to my stomach when I woke up every single day. But she didn't care. She wanted the air to be less stuffy and that's all. She'd get pissed when I'd turn it off but I just couldn't handle how much it hurt my stomach. She'd have these huge temper tantrums at nothing and just start smashing stuff up in the room and throwing shit everywhere, tipping out boxes of my clothes and other belongings and stomping over stuff. She cannot handle her emotions, and acts like a toddler.
I was already cooking for myself before I moved out. I have an older brother who moved away to uni, and when he did my mother just stopped bothering to cook for anyone but herself unless it was microwaved chicken nuggets or shit like that. She really wasn't assed. My brother would come back for a weekend visit or something and leave again and she'd be joyful saying to me how relieved she was that she didn't have to cook anymore. And I literally was scared to spend more than 2 minutes in the kitchen because my family would come in and start arguing around me or causing shit. I always avoided being around them because shit would literally always stir up so I'd just hide out in my small room. But I sometimes even still got shit for being in there. I got given shit just for existing in the house.
I couldn't really cook anything apart from noodles and pasta, only for a lack of space and resources, and lived off that shit. The oven was broken, I was scared to keep stuff in the fridge because they'd eat it. My dad would regularly go in and help himself to whatever I'd bought without a second thought. And everything I ever did in that house was commented on, what did she buy today, when did she leave the house. They'd talk obessively about me from morning til noon for 5 hours, speculating what I was doing. I never told them anything because they'd constantly give me shit. I remember going for a job interview at a hostel as a receptionist and I told my auntie, and begged her not to tell my family, but she did anyway and they gave me shit for 2 weeks laughing their asses off questioning why I ever thought I'd be successful. It became their daily routine and bonding time to constantly make fun of me and debate and discuss what I was up to. There was all sorts of crazy theories - she's dealing drugs (based off a train ticket to Croydon I had to visit a friend - ha! they thought I was dropping off drugs a whole train ride away from the city. WTF.)
My dad would constantly threaten to throw out my shit because my room was messy (I was only allowed space the size of like a small desk to keep my things in so it was nearly impossible to keep clean) and he would just throw shit like my skateboard out I'd had for 7 years and not tell me until I realised it was missing. He was an insane control freak, down to the way you sat down, walked around (he disliked these things he called "jerky movements" and would shout at you for it because you just moved too fast and he didn't like it). He had a hunger for power and control. I'd order books and useful stuff like that to the house and it would be discussed all day. (I once ordered a book called "The Rules of Work" and it just teaches you how to be efficient in the workplace and stuff like that and my dad and bro near pissed themselves when they saw it) Pretty much they became more like bullies than family. We've never had a good relationship but it just grew into extremes over the last 2 years or so.
Me and my brother aren't close either, he grew up not having friends and being addicted to his computer and being jealous of how many friends I had and my social life. He came back from uni and told my dad he plans to live in that house until he dies. My dad has already agreed to buy the flat for him. He's, by all accounts, a fucking loser. Doesn't leave the house for days, plays games on his laptop morning until night, still doesn't have friends to this day and kisses the ass of both my parents all day (my aunt has even commented that they're unnaturally close, and he seems to have a mother complex). He'd also just pick fights for no reason and be violent and abusive as all hell. There's this and so many other more details to this shitty story that I don't have all day to go into.
Anyway, finally to the city lights at the end of that tunnel, last month I got really lucky with finding a dirt cheap room for rent and moved out. Finally. (I am 20 btw)
I worked at a cinema from December until January (a job which i LOVED) and made a decent wage from (it was high paid). I loved the people I met there, my managers, the staff room, the perks, the atmosphere. It was my favourite job (i've had 5 so that is really saying something. I finished my studies at 18 and went straight into work instead of university to start earning money because - and I don't want this to sound snooty at all, I'm sorry - I was sick of education. I just couldn't do it anymore.) I was only there on a contract during the seasonal period and was let go in January. They said they really wanted to keep me on, but they just didn't have the hours and the company was tight-fisted meaning they wanted to pay as little staff as possible. I thought this might have just been some generic stuff they said to wave me off, but I spoke to others who didn't make the cut and they got really blunt honest answers ("you weren't professional enough" "we saw more from other people").
Well, they had another spot opening up again in March in time for the release of a new film, which has now been pushed back thanks to this virus. But they urged me to reapply and made it clear they wanted me back. I got an email, just before everything went downhill, saying to come in for paperwork as a "formality" and i'd come back. I was so looking forward to it. And then it got pulled out from under my feet. Then the cinema shut down entirely.
I was so unhappy living where I was in that shitty family, it was a living hell to come home to. I know my dad and mother are definitely ripping each other apart. They never got on well in the first place, and would just have moments of tolerating each other in a shitty balanced void. They've been fighting ever since I can remember. They'd break each other's shit and cause a ruckus in the neighborhood. You could hear them arguing and shouting from down the street. I don't know how my neighbours get any peace. I know spending 24/7 around each other is going to make them want to throttle each other. Also my mother has no income apart from her job as a childminder so she relies on that. I just know they are going to struggle, and sorry, but it brings me much joy to think about. I don't have to be part of that sh*t anymore. I am delighted being alone, and answering to no one, and only taking care of myself, and being able to do whatever I want whenver I want without anyone commenting on it or giving me shit. I have more space in this small room than I ever did, and being my own adult came more naturally to me than anything.
I am elated to be out of there. When I was living there, I stopped doing things I enjoyed. I had so many visions and goals for myself. I've always been ambitious and wanted to make the most out of life and do great things and go very far. I put everything on hold. I would turn down opportunities or postpone stuff until I was finally in the right headspace and place. And now I am, and now it's pointless.
I wanted to get into fitness. Join a running group. I've had back problems because I slept on a shitty bed for around 3 years where the slat was broken in the middle, and my mum did not care, and I did everything to fix it but it still left an effect. I wanted to finally see a GP and then a physiotherapist to sort this out. And while I was at it, finally get help and diagnosis for some mental health problems I've had. I've always had the concept of "carry your burden and say nothing" because my mother HATED mental health issues. It disgusted her. She was repulsed by some of the things I was experiencing during my teenage years. She'd spit at the thought of it. She's also hugely racist and homophobic, and I wasn't allowed to have black friends or anyone that wasn't of a certain race over at my house, not that I'd fucking want to anyway because of my nightmare family 100% causing shit if I did bring anyone.
Anyway, I would have finally gotten acknowledgment and help for what's going on in my head.
I wanted to start exercising and taking care of my body more, and I still can now, but not in the same way. My good buddy had given me a fob key to get into any gym of that chain for free using a buddy scheme where he could bring me for free. I loved the mental health benefits of exercising, but had to sort out my back problems before I did that. I was going to get in shape and feel so good and have a proper sleep schedule and everything.
I love languages and that's my special skill - I speak 3 and am learning 2 more. When I left education, I didn't want to stop learning, so I self-taught a lot of things - finance, work, languages. I was going to buy more books and do online learning to pick that up again. I'd saved enough money to start my driving test for my license, which has now been postponed.
I also love skincare and doing a routine, but I stopped bothering when I lived at that home. I didn't see any point in taking care of myself. People have always told me I'm an attractive girl, but I'm sad to think that I never bothered to look my best all the time - or at least feel my best. I never wore my favourite clothes, picked good outfits, etc. The spirit was kinda drained outta me. I have so many skincare products now which I can use - and it adds an amazing sense of routine and stability in my life and I love it and I love feeling good from it - but it's not much use in lockdown now.
I also wanted to travel more - I'm lucky enough to have a kind friend with a sailboat who would have taken me to small pretty islands on weekends and even let me work for him.
So in short, fitness, education, great job, travel, skincare, appearance, and driving licence were all on the cards for me this year. It was meant to be a new decade, a new start, and now here we are. I really was so close to getting my shit together.
If you've bothered to read all of it this far, you are AMAZING and WONDERFUL. Thanks.
What is your story? Where are you now?
So a month ago I'd just moved into my own place where I am now, at the brink of the pandemic starting up here in the UK. I finally escaped my abusive family, adjusted to living alone, cooking and cleaning and taking care of myself. I shared a room with my mother and it was a total nightmare and I had no space. She would go to sleep early, at about 8.30-9, and start screaming at me when I came in the room any later than that. I could never do anything late at night like pack my stuff for the morning, get a change of clothes or even just collect something in my room because A. I'd have to do it in the dark and B. she'd start screaming her head off because the noise would wake her up. Even opening the door to actually go into the room would set her off. She hated being woken up. She had this dehumidifier machine which pumped cold air into the room, and would always make me feel sick to my stomach when I woke up every single day. But she didn't care. She wanted the air to be less stuffy and that's all. She'd get pissed when I'd turn it off but I just couldn't handle how much it hurt my stomach. She'd have these huge temper tantrums at nothing and just start smashing stuff up in the room and throwing shit everywhere, tipping out boxes of my clothes and other belongings and stomping over stuff. She cannot handle her emotions, and acts like a toddler.
I was already cooking for myself before I moved out. I have an older brother who moved away to uni, and when he did my mother just stopped bothering to cook for anyone but herself unless it was microwaved chicken nuggets or shit like that. She really wasn't assed. My brother would come back for a weekend visit or something and leave again and she'd be joyful saying to me how relieved she was that she didn't have to cook anymore. And I literally was scared to spend more than 2 minutes in the kitchen because my family would come in and start arguing around me or causing shit. I always avoided being around them because shit would literally always stir up so I'd just hide out in my small room. But I sometimes even still got shit for being in there. I got given shit just for existing in the house.
I couldn't really cook anything apart from noodles and pasta, only for a lack of space and resources, and lived off that shit. The oven was broken, I was scared to keep stuff in the fridge because they'd eat it. My dad would regularly go in and help himself to whatever I'd bought without a second thought. And everything I ever did in that house was commented on, what did she buy today, when did she leave the house. They'd talk obessively about me from morning til noon for 5 hours, speculating what I was doing. I never told them anything because they'd constantly give me shit. I remember going for a job interview at a hostel as a receptionist and I told my auntie, and begged her not to tell my family, but she did anyway and they gave me shit for 2 weeks laughing their asses off questioning why I ever thought I'd be successful. It became their daily routine and bonding time to constantly make fun of me and debate and discuss what I was up to. There was all sorts of crazy theories - she's dealing drugs (based off a train ticket to Croydon I had to visit a friend - ha! they thought I was dropping off drugs a whole train ride away from the city. WTF.)
My dad would constantly threaten to throw out my shit because my room was messy (I was only allowed space the size of like a small desk to keep my things in so it was nearly impossible to keep clean) and he would just throw shit like my skateboard out I'd had for 7 years and not tell me until I realised it was missing. He was an insane control freak, down to the way you sat down, walked around (he disliked these things he called "jerky movements" and would shout at you for it because you just moved too fast and he didn't like it). He had a hunger for power and control. I'd order books and useful stuff like that to the house and it would be discussed all day. (I once ordered a book called "The Rules of Work" and it just teaches you how to be efficient in the workplace and stuff like that and my dad and bro near pissed themselves when they saw it) Pretty much they became more like bullies than family. We've never had a good relationship but it just grew into extremes over the last 2 years or so.
Me and my brother aren't close either, he grew up not having friends and being addicted to his computer and being jealous of how many friends I had and my social life. He came back from uni and told my dad he plans to live in that house until he dies. My dad has already agreed to buy the flat for him. He's, by all accounts, a fucking loser. Doesn't leave the house for days, plays games on his laptop morning until night, still doesn't have friends to this day and kisses the ass of both my parents all day (my aunt has even commented that they're unnaturally close, and he seems to have a mother complex). He'd also just pick fights for no reason and be violent and abusive as all hell. There's this and so many other more details to this shitty story that I don't have all day to go into.
Anyway, finally to the city lights at the end of that tunnel, last month I got really lucky with finding a dirt cheap room for rent and moved out. Finally. (I am 20 btw)
I worked at a cinema from December until January (a job which i LOVED) and made a decent wage from (it was high paid). I loved the people I met there, my managers, the staff room, the perks, the atmosphere. It was my favourite job (i've had 5 so that is really saying something. I finished my studies at 18 and went straight into work instead of university to start earning money because - and I don't want this to sound snooty at all, I'm sorry - I was sick of education. I just couldn't do it anymore.) I was only there on a contract during the seasonal period and was let go in January. They said they really wanted to keep me on, but they just didn't have the hours and the company was tight-fisted meaning they wanted to pay as little staff as possible. I thought this might have just been some generic stuff they said to wave me off, but I spoke to others who didn't make the cut and they got really blunt honest answers ("you weren't professional enough" "we saw more from other people").
Well, they had another spot opening up again in March in time for the release of a new film, which has now been pushed back thanks to this virus. But they urged me to reapply and made it clear they wanted me back. I got an email, just before everything went downhill, saying to come in for paperwork as a "formality" and i'd come back. I was so looking forward to it. And then it got pulled out from under my feet. Then the cinema shut down entirely.
I was so unhappy living where I was in that shitty family, it was a living hell to come home to. I know my dad and mother are definitely ripping each other apart. They never got on well in the first place, and would just have moments of tolerating each other in a shitty balanced void. They've been fighting ever since I can remember. They'd break each other's shit and cause a ruckus in the neighborhood. You could hear them arguing and shouting from down the street. I don't know how my neighbours get any peace. I know spending 24/7 around each other is going to make them want to throttle each other. Also my mother has no income apart from her job as a childminder so she relies on that. I just know they are going to struggle, and sorry, but it brings me much joy to think about. I don't have to be part of that sh*t anymore. I am delighted being alone, and answering to no one, and only taking care of myself, and being able to do whatever I want whenver I want without anyone commenting on it or giving me shit. I have more space in this small room than I ever did, and being my own adult came more naturally to me than anything.
I am elated to be out of there. When I was living there, I stopped doing things I enjoyed. I had so many visions and goals for myself. I've always been ambitious and wanted to make the most out of life and do great things and go very far. I put everything on hold. I would turn down opportunities or postpone stuff until I was finally in the right headspace and place. And now I am, and now it's pointless.
I wanted to get into fitness. Join a running group. I've had back problems because I slept on a shitty bed for around 3 years where the slat was broken in the middle, and my mum did not care, and I did everything to fix it but it still left an effect. I wanted to finally see a GP and then a physiotherapist to sort this out. And while I was at it, finally get help and diagnosis for some mental health problems I've had. I've always had the concept of "carry your burden and say nothing" because my mother HATED mental health issues. It disgusted her. She was repulsed by some of the things I was experiencing during my teenage years. She'd spit at the thought of it. She's also hugely racist and homophobic, and I wasn't allowed to have black friends or anyone that wasn't of a certain race over at my house, not that I'd fucking want to anyway because of my nightmare family 100% causing shit if I did bring anyone.
Anyway, I would have finally gotten acknowledgment and help for what's going on in my head.
I wanted to start exercising and taking care of my body more, and I still can now, but not in the same way. My good buddy had given me a fob key to get into any gym of that chain for free using a buddy scheme where he could bring me for free. I loved the mental health benefits of exercising, but had to sort out my back problems before I did that. I was going to get in shape and feel so good and have a proper sleep schedule and everything.
I love languages and that's my special skill - I speak 3 and am learning 2 more. When I left education, I didn't want to stop learning, so I self-taught a lot of things - finance, work, languages. I was going to buy more books and do online learning to pick that up again. I'd saved enough money to start my driving test for my license, which has now been postponed.
I also love skincare and doing a routine, but I stopped bothering when I lived at that home. I didn't see any point in taking care of myself. People have always told me I'm an attractive girl, but I'm sad to think that I never bothered to look my best all the time - or at least feel my best. I never wore my favourite clothes, picked good outfits, etc. The spirit was kinda drained outta me. I have so many skincare products now which I can use - and it adds an amazing sense of routine and stability in my life and I love it and I love feeling good from it - but it's not much use in lockdown now.
I also wanted to travel more - I'm lucky enough to have a kind friend with a sailboat who would have taken me to small pretty islands on weekends and even let me work for him.
So in short, fitness, education, great job, travel, skincare, appearance, and driving licence were all on the cards for me this year. It was meant to be a new decade, a new start, and now here we are. I really was so close to getting my shit together.
If you've bothered to read all of it this far, you are AMAZING and WONDERFUL. Thanks.
What is your story? Where are you now?
