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Warning: contains abuse, self and other, dont read if fragile.
When I was younger, I was abused, physically, mentally, emotionally. I wasn't allowed to say anything unless spoken directly too, or asked a question. At age 12 I made a attempt on my life. After learning that people cut their wrists, my first thought was "idiots people can see your wrists you should cut where they cant see." Thats when I decided to start cutting my feet. I cut deeply, I let the blood pull in my socks, and spent most of middle school walking funny. I HATED everyone, I hated my family, I hated school, I hated everything that my eyes could see. I wanted nothing more then to burn it down. Rip peoples arms off and beat them to death with them. I curbed my rage by playing videogames and fighting. By 8th grade I didnt speak. I only wanted one thing and that was to kill people. My anger fueled me, my rage ruled, and I felt no pain.
I was practically tortured for years. At my fathers I spent the nights fighting river rats. During the day I had to fight the dogs in order to eat. somedays I didnt get to eat. At home, my step dad, beat me, and told me how worthless I am. How I would never amount to nothing. When I wasn't being beatin, I was working my ass off. During one of my "punishments" I had to stand in the corner on my tip toes for an hour while up right nails was under my heels. If I disobeyed I was beat and forced to start over. Then as another one of his favorite punishments was having to write "I will not fuck up again, I will not fuck up again, I will not fuck up again." on every line of a colleged ruled paper. I was 13. And if I didnt finish what was required for the day I didnt eat and had to stay up late and write more before sleeping.
This torture and abuse continued until I was 15. I didnt learn to accept myself until I was 19. Im not who I was then but all the anger and pain and torment, its still here. Its just locked away. I pulled myself out with toothpicks, If I could be given one wish it would be to whole. To be able to say im ok and mean it. Sometimes if I dissociate just enough I can feel who I was, Hes burning away silently. I dread the person, who dares to speak to him, cause if they do his answer will be fury.
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How old are you now?
Are you a girl or a boy?
How did you come out of it?
Please tell me because even, I am in the same state and no clue what to do!
Replyi feel your pain.. you are not alone. remember the one's that are hurt and tormented the most will turn out to be really strong for this sick world we live in. all i want to tell you is to not let your past decide your future. no one can choose or change the house you grow in or those situations, but please.. i wish you start over a new chapter in your life by leaving that home and that town itself forever.
ReplyGuess what, you will fuck up again and its okey! I know because 30+ years ago I had the same type of father. A man who hated himself and took it out on his children. That hate spills into everyones life that he is supposed to love and protect. It replaces love and it replaces protection. Nothing was ever good enough and nothing was ever correct. My life and yours were merely useless in our parents eyes. I don't have a good answer for you. I know its very hard to learn to be a good person when all you have is a terrible teacher. I have two sons that I have saved from the loop of anger that was taught to me. I fought myself everyday to be a good parent. Sometime just doing the opposite of what my father did not knowing what was right. I do tell them I love them every chance I get. They are pretty much grown now. I still hate myself and still feel worthless. I just hope I have broken the cycle of hate by being a good a father as I could be. Its too late for me and maybe you but you can stop it from going further. I'm sorry your life resembles my own.
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