mob
Student
- Jul 19, 2023
- 141
Here I am again with another vent.
I didn't have a nice childhood. I grew up in a strict muslim family with four siblings.
My parents were unhappy in their marriage. I would hear my father beat my mother often, while I hid under my blanket and tried my hardest to ignore it - I still know how exactly her screaming sounded. I don't think I'll ever forget.
My father was always nice to us, and bought us gifts with money he didn't have. Debt after debt. He took my mother's money and gambled it all away. My mother was a victim, being forced to just deal with it. My father did his best to try to make us like him. He's a raging alcoholic. I don't like him. Now he eats his meals alone, with a whiskey bottle being his only company.
My mother used to hit us, especially me. I was always the problem-child, with my "bad" grades. She needed a reason to be angry at me. She needed to let her frustrations out. So she used me. From elementary school to until I quit high school I had to bear with it. My older sister was also aggressive and would become violent.
My older brother was my only friend - but we don't talk anymore. He thinks I'm a failure now and became religious.
One night when I was thirteen and my younger sister twelve she sexually assaulted me. Sometimes I can't look her in the eyes. I remember and I won't ever forget. I only ever told my current partner and ex about it. I feel dirty and ashamed. I hate how I froze up, how I couldn't stop her because I was so very shocked.
One time, my mother beat me badly. I had a male best friend when I was thirteen and I hugged him sometimes. My brother found out and told my parents. I was called a whore and slut by my parents and those words hurt more than any slap or punch. Since then my mother thinks of me as nothing but a whore.
When I was fourteen I started abusing pills and at some point I tried to kill myself. While I was throwing up everywhere my mother was scared. Not scared about my well-being, but scared that I was pregnant. I was fourteen - and definitely not pregnant.
I left home. Police had to get involved because my father had locked me in. He took my electronics because we'd gotten into an argument about me wanting to go out for a few hours with my friend. The police had to break the door open. One of the police officers knocked my father down and he ended up having an asthma attack. I felt so bad for him. I had to go to court. I didn't testify against him.
My family thinks I'm a failure. The guilt still eats me up, even though it's been over four years.
I will never, ever be normal. These are just a few things that have happened to me that I've been needing to get off my chest. And a painful reminder of the person they turned me into. A depressed, suicidal mess. No amount of therapy or medication will erase this.
I didn't have a nice childhood. I grew up in a strict muslim family with four siblings.
My parents were unhappy in their marriage. I would hear my father beat my mother often, while I hid under my blanket and tried my hardest to ignore it - I still know how exactly her screaming sounded. I don't think I'll ever forget.
My father was always nice to us, and bought us gifts with money he didn't have. Debt after debt. He took my mother's money and gambled it all away. My mother was a victim, being forced to just deal with it. My father did his best to try to make us like him. He's a raging alcoholic. I don't like him. Now he eats his meals alone, with a whiskey bottle being his only company.
My mother used to hit us, especially me. I was always the problem-child, with my "bad" grades. She needed a reason to be angry at me. She needed to let her frustrations out. So she used me. From elementary school to until I quit high school I had to bear with it. My older sister was also aggressive and would become violent.
My older brother was my only friend - but we don't talk anymore. He thinks I'm a failure now and became religious.
One night when I was thirteen and my younger sister twelve she sexually assaulted me. Sometimes I can't look her in the eyes. I remember and I won't ever forget. I only ever told my current partner and ex about it. I feel dirty and ashamed. I hate how I froze up, how I couldn't stop her because I was so very shocked.
One time, my mother beat me badly. I had a male best friend when I was thirteen and I hugged him sometimes. My brother found out and told my parents. I was called a whore and slut by my parents and those words hurt more than any slap or punch. Since then my mother thinks of me as nothing but a whore.
When I was fourteen I started abusing pills and at some point I tried to kill myself. While I was throwing up everywhere my mother was scared. Not scared about my well-being, but scared that I was pregnant. I was fourteen - and definitely not pregnant.
I left home. Police had to get involved because my father had locked me in. He took my electronics because we'd gotten into an argument about me wanting to go out for a few hours with my friend. The police had to break the door open. One of the police officers knocked my father down and he ended up having an asthma attack. I felt so bad for him. I had to go to court. I didn't testify against him.
My family thinks I'm a failure. The guilt still eats me up, even though it's been over four years.
I will never, ever be normal. These are just a few things that have happened to me that I've been needing to get off my chest. And a painful reminder of the person they turned me into. A depressed, suicidal mess. No amount of therapy or medication will erase this.
