bunintherug
husk of a girl
- Jan 1, 2024
- 25
I don't think I was supposed to make it this far. My dad was born several weeks premature in the 50s in rural florida, he survived against all odds. My mom attempted via overdose when she was pregnant with me. Both me and her survived.
After I was born, my dad started sexually abusing me when I was 2 days old, my mom never knew. When I was 2 years old my mom left while my dad was recovering from open heart surgery, she says I was better off without her, she has borderline personality disorder and was emotionally and physically abusive until she went to therapy when i was 14. But i can't help but almost wish I had that instead.
From the time i was 11 i started having issues with self harm, as well as several attempts. When I was 12 I was in a coma for a week after an attempt, and ever since then my memory is incredibly bad. That's on top of how bad it was with the dissociation from sexual abuse every day my whole childhood. My family talks about how scary it was to watch me turn into the "creature" or "monster" that i was becoming. They all think it's funny, since i'm so much calmer now, but they don't know why I was acting like that. They don't know what I was going through.
When i was 15 I told my mom what my dad had been doing, but not everything. I only told her about one incident, my dad had groomed me so well that i couldn't stand snitching about all of it. she still doesn't know everything. I was put in foster care for 2 weeks but they couldn't get any evidence so they put me back with my dad.
My mom still wasn't ready to take care of me, so she sent me to live with her sister across the county, who i had never met. After 2 months and 2 hospitalizations my aunt gave up on taking care of me, she didn't call me and let me know, she didn't tell anyone, she just gave up. If she had told someone, my dad would've flew and gotten me in a heartbeat. She left me in an inpatient hospital and refused to pick me up when they discharged me, so I was put into the foster system.
I was supposed to go back with my dad after I finished a treatment program. At this point, I 100% wanted to go back with my dad. I had been away from him for months, and had been allowed to stay in contact with him the whole time so his grooming was in full effect once again.
So, I went to a group home and agreed to do the program, I was expecting something like the residential programs I had been to in middle school, but hopefully better due to living in a much more liberal area. It was nothing like that, and I was relentlessly bullied while there for being LGBT. It came to a head when 4 kids there jumped me, breaking my nose, making the inside of my eye fill with blood, and cracking my skull.
Since I didn't finish that program, I had to start at a new one. And thus begins a 3 year limbo of trying to get back to my dad and having to get over every barrier they decided to put up arbitrarily. All the while being traumatized in dozens of different ways by the awful people in the group homes and foster homes.
At 18 I finally got diagnosed with autism, borderline personality disorder, OSDD, ehlers danlos syndrome, and POTS. I finally understood why I am how I am after 7 years of being told I only had depression and anxiety, and hating myself for not being able to function as well as other people with those diagnoses.
But with a BPD and EDS diagnosis is the understanding that I cannot get better. Even with years of therapy, I might go into bpd remission, but anything could trigger me to go back to square one. With the EDS, my body is already starting to get bad. My shoulders and wrists dislocate several times a day, my hips hurt if I sit with my legs together for too long or apart for too long, and I can't walk more than 40-60 minutes without my legs entirely collapsing, and I'm in pain the whole time. I used to go on hikes I used to walk around town for hours, just listening to music and forgetting I exist. And now I'm a loser. I can't even do housework properly without getting stoned first to manage the physical pain. Even if it weren't for those disorders, my dad still destroyed my body physically. Sex is painful if I go longer than a few minutes, and I've had 3 miscarriages, one just 3 weeks ago. I will most likely not ever be able to have kids, the one thing I want out of my life more than anything. All because my dad couldn't keep his dick in his pants and just be a dad.
I'm just tired of fighting. Even if I fix all the other little issues in my life, even I do all the work and do everything right, I'll still be hurting, and I'll still hurt other people. I just wish I could leave without hurting anyone.
I told my partner last night what I'm planning. I wasn't going to tell them, but they figured out what I was doing when I tried to say goodbye to them. Their first boyfriend killed himself, with my partner's gun, so they recognized what was happening. They asked me if I was going to kill myself, and I couldn't bring myself to respond. We talked for 4 hours. They cried, and held me, and begged. They told me all the reasons I should stay, the things they'll miss about me, and begged over and over for "this" to not happen again, they can't handle it.
After I was born, my dad started sexually abusing me when I was 2 days old, my mom never knew. When I was 2 years old my mom left while my dad was recovering from open heart surgery, she says I was better off without her, she has borderline personality disorder and was emotionally and physically abusive until she went to therapy when i was 14. But i can't help but almost wish I had that instead.
From the time i was 11 i started having issues with self harm, as well as several attempts. When I was 12 I was in a coma for a week after an attempt, and ever since then my memory is incredibly bad. That's on top of how bad it was with the dissociation from sexual abuse every day my whole childhood. My family talks about how scary it was to watch me turn into the "creature" or "monster" that i was becoming. They all think it's funny, since i'm so much calmer now, but they don't know why I was acting like that. They don't know what I was going through.
When i was 15 I told my mom what my dad had been doing, but not everything. I only told her about one incident, my dad had groomed me so well that i couldn't stand snitching about all of it. she still doesn't know everything. I was put in foster care for 2 weeks but they couldn't get any evidence so they put me back with my dad.
My mom still wasn't ready to take care of me, so she sent me to live with her sister across the county, who i had never met. After 2 months and 2 hospitalizations my aunt gave up on taking care of me, she didn't call me and let me know, she didn't tell anyone, she just gave up. If she had told someone, my dad would've flew and gotten me in a heartbeat. She left me in an inpatient hospital and refused to pick me up when they discharged me, so I was put into the foster system.
I was supposed to go back with my dad after I finished a treatment program. At this point, I 100% wanted to go back with my dad. I had been away from him for months, and had been allowed to stay in contact with him the whole time so his grooming was in full effect once again.
So, I went to a group home and agreed to do the program, I was expecting something like the residential programs I had been to in middle school, but hopefully better due to living in a much more liberal area. It was nothing like that, and I was relentlessly bullied while there for being LGBT. It came to a head when 4 kids there jumped me, breaking my nose, making the inside of my eye fill with blood, and cracking my skull.
Since I didn't finish that program, I had to start at a new one. And thus begins a 3 year limbo of trying to get back to my dad and having to get over every barrier they decided to put up arbitrarily. All the while being traumatized in dozens of different ways by the awful people in the group homes and foster homes.
At 18 I finally got diagnosed with autism, borderline personality disorder, OSDD, ehlers danlos syndrome, and POTS. I finally understood why I am how I am after 7 years of being told I only had depression and anxiety, and hating myself for not being able to function as well as other people with those diagnoses.
But with a BPD and EDS diagnosis is the understanding that I cannot get better. Even with years of therapy, I might go into bpd remission, but anything could trigger me to go back to square one. With the EDS, my body is already starting to get bad. My shoulders and wrists dislocate several times a day, my hips hurt if I sit with my legs together for too long or apart for too long, and I can't walk more than 40-60 minutes without my legs entirely collapsing, and I'm in pain the whole time. I used to go on hikes I used to walk around town for hours, just listening to music and forgetting I exist. And now I'm a loser. I can't even do housework properly without getting stoned first to manage the physical pain. Even if it weren't for those disorders, my dad still destroyed my body physically. Sex is painful if I go longer than a few minutes, and I've had 3 miscarriages, one just 3 weeks ago. I will most likely not ever be able to have kids, the one thing I want out of my life more than anything. All because my dad couldn't keep his dick in his pants and just be a dad.
I'm just tired of fighting. Even if I fix all the other little issues in my life, even I do all the work and do everything right, I'll still be hurting, and I'll still hurt other people. I just wish I could leave without hurting anyone.
I told my partner last night what I'm planning. I wasn't going to tell them, but they figured out what I was doing when I tried to say goodbye to them. Their first boyfriend killed himself, with my partner's gun, so they recognized what was happening. They asked me if I was going to kill myself, and I couldn't bring myself to respond. We talked for 4 hours. They cried, and held me, and begged. They told me all the reasons I should stay, the things they'll miss about me, and begged over and over for "this" to not happen again, they can't handle it.
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