I’m a (F24) and I have lucky enough gained 2-4 close ish friends in the span of my yearly twenties. Growing up I was pretty bullied for being weird and alternative. So, with that said I didn’t have any friends. I had one girl that where on and off friends with me, but that was mostly because we both had no friends.

My parents showed vulnerability in the way that they would say” I’m struggling right now” they would either BLOW UP like fight until the police came or just pretend that everything was “fine” leaving the whole room with tension that you could cut with a knife, especially my mom.

Fast forward to now, I have gained a couple of alt friends online and some in the larger cities that I really cherish and love. But after a while, they notice that I have this wall up, it’s like I don’t want them to get to close, I don’t want them to see my really depressing sides - where I don’t clean my room or when I’m struggling. They often say that I don’t have to keep up this perfect facade in order for them to like me - but I.. can’t really fully let my inner self trust that. So I often focus on asking them questions and being interested in their life, I get so flabbergasted whenever they ask about my life, which they often do, but I usually respond with, “I’m just a bit stressed and tired” and then I switch the subject. But I can always tell by the look in their eyes that they know something is up.

I really don’t know what to do. Please help me, I want to get rid of this weird and awkward wall of my weird feelings😞

Where do I begin? Well for starters when I was from 4-12 my mom would sexually spank me and she also would call out on my body. In the house she would do random check ups on my private parts. She once asked me to self pleasure in front of her and at the time I didn’t know what that meant. She sometimes would give me hickys on purpose. And when I would go out to public I had to wear a white t shirt with long sleeves underneath my clothing. If it was over 90°f she would allow me to wear shirts no shorter than half of my upper elbow. Until her “death” only was I then allowed to wear shirts without the undershirt. In 2020 I was graped. And I was sexually touched by an older family member. In 2021 - 2023 I would constantly be cat called by my friends and I was asked inappropriate questions about my sexual activity and my sexual parts. I felt so gross being in my body I would shower in my clothes for months on end just so I couldn’t look at my “sinful” body. And when I had to take of my clothes that I showers I literally felt like throwing up because I was naked. Sometimes when I was at a pool party and I wore my very modest clothes like my pants and my long sleeve shirts I would be asked to take of my clothes and swim and I was always pressured to take of my clothes even tho I felt uncomfortable. When I was in high school that’s where I experienced the most sexual tension. I was constantly being looked like in a sexual way, in P.E class the whole class periods the 4 classes were talking about my butt because it’s so “perfect and round”. And I felt very uncomfortable and wants to leave the gym hall but I had to sit there and suck it up. I still feel gross but now I embrace what I am. And I set boundaries. This has caused me to losing my virginity at a very young age. And honestly once I did it I felt like a part of me was filled… Like I felt a part of me was empty. But that filled up the black hole I had. Idk I am not a sexual person nor was I ever just that there was so much sexual tension in my life. Sorry I write about s*x so much but I had to write this out.

Healing hurts.

I am in tremendous pain - physical wound caused by psychic pain. Trauma has left its mark, and I am left to heal.

The last few days have been quite debilitating, it feels like I’ve gone through surgery, or been stabbed. It feels like every time I exercise, or stretch, or touch a certain place in my body, I’ll become triggered. The body keeps the score.

Meditating on this space, this poem came recognised that I was lacking a shield. That the abuse of my past has left its Mark upon the present. And that I felt without recourse to stop it impacting my future.

There is a level that comes from the reaping a wound into a shield. The lessons learnt, the strength gained, all of the power needed to survive, can help me to thrive. Can help me to push beyond and be more, do more and become more.

It is time to heal.

I’m sick of this. And I’m taking active steps to turn my attention inwards, to heal, to cleanse, to clean, to put up my shield, a mirrored wall that only lets in thoughts of others that are geared towards my highest calling, that only my truth, and my expression.

I refuse to let the past impact my presence, and my future any more.

(TW:abuse?)

I’m not sure to be honest

My parents aren’t horrible people or anything like that… I guess sometimes they just lose their temper which makes sense they’re people they’re allowed to make mistakes and I’m not exactly an innocent person either.

But,I feel like in this specific experience …it had just gone too far… I don’t even remember what we were arguing about or whatever I was being yelled at about I think maybe I talked back or whatever… but I remember it just being early in the morning, fourth grade or something like that… but all I remember is her grabbing me by the throat and I remember feeling my air cut off for only a few seconds but I remember that when I left, I left a little bit of a hurry… I’m tearing up just typing it, but it scared me because I trusted my mom. I never thought she would hurt me like obviously I’d get a smack here and there or whatever.… But this was different… This was scary. She could’ve killed me. I don’t care if it was just a couple of seconds my life was still in her hands, and made me realize that she wasn’t as good of a person as I thought she was… I know it scared the hell out of me and I remember shit. I walked down the driveway to wait for the school bus.(the school buses where I lived picked us up at our houses) and I remember just trying to push everything down so I wouldn’t have to think about it and I didn’t wanna cry cause I I had woken up late school bus bus was gonna come soon, trying to force myself to cry… obviously I don’t think that it’s the most traumatic story here at all, but I just wanted to share it because I feel like maybe it can help a little bit, I mean, I’ve had to edit like 16 words over here because my eyes are blurry and I feel like maybe it’s a sign that I haven’t fully healed yet(i’m not exactly that old so I don’t expect to heal anytime soon)

I have more instances, but I just wanted to share this one for today and see how it goes… thank you for reading my story.

I marked this post as NSFW due to mentions of SH and Suicide. People in this story: Me, Older Sister, Older Brother, Younger Brother, My Mom, her now ex-boyfriend, and their kid together My younger sister. (And our dog Maggie).

Growing up for the first 4 years of my life was amazing, and then my mom asked my dad for a divorce since they hit a really rough patch and my father wasn't able to handle the thought of being without my mom and offed himself 2 months before my 4th birthday. I don't have many memories of him, but the memories I do have, he was always smiling. I don't remember to much of my mom's boyfriends/husband after my dad passed, up until her last boyfriend. Anthony. Tony for short.

He was nice at first, but then only after 2 months of dating he moved in. At this point I was 7-8 years old. I liked him at first because he was always taking us out to eat, but then the excessive drinking started. It was no secret that he liked to drink, but only after 2-3weeks of him being with us, he got violent.

He would constantly get into screaming fights with my mom, whenever we did chores we never did them good enough so we'd have to do them over and over, eventually we just stopped doing them because if we didn't do them, we got bitched at, and if we did do them, we still got bitched at. Shortly after my older sister turned 18 (I was 12), he decided he wanted to shoot his shot with her. Y'know, his girlfriend/baby mama's oldest daughter. She obviously told our mom about it and his response, I kid you fucking not was "I didn't actually mean that, I see you as a daughter. Buuuut, if you wanted tooooo..... jkjk, unlessssss...". And once again she told our mom.

You'd think after that my mom would want nothing to do with him, and she didn't. For a month, and then she got over it. He never got violent with me (as a child) or either of my sisters, but my mom and two brothers are a different story.

He pushed my mom to the ground for trying to stop him from taking my younger sister out of the house at 6 in the morning during winter in just her pajamas, no socks, no coat, no shoes. He was once again, drunk out of his mind. During verbal fights he would get in her face and act like he was gonna punch her, but never did. He did, however, bite her nose before sprinting out of the house (his signature move after doing something he knows he shouldn't have.) He put my older brother in a choke hold, but luckily my older brother wasn't as weak as he looked back then and was able to get his hand up to his throat and dig his thumb directly into it so he couldn't breathe either. Tony later told everyone that my brother attacked him unprovoked. When my older brother was 21 (I was 17), he was in our backyard having a beer with a friend while working on his motorized bike, when Tony came out back also, got in his face, and once he smelled the beer on his breath, he punched my brother in the face, because according to him, my brother was only drinking to trigger him because at this point Tony was a 'recovering' alcoholic/drug addict (spoiler alert, he still does both to this day).

It sounds fucked, but when he would come over I would purposefully open soda cans around him cause I overheard him tell my mom that it caused him to bug out. Now my younger brother. To start, about a year after my mom had my younger sister, they (my mom, Tony, my younger brother, and younger sister in a stroller) were in the alley that led to the entrance of our house, and my younger brother (who was 5 at the time) was attempting to push her down the walk way, which was primarily really badly placed gravel. The wheel of the stroller got caught on a rock and it tipped over. My sister was fine, just spooked from the sudden fall. Tony decides in that moment that my brother did it on purpose, picks him up and throws him into a muddy puddle. He ended up banging up his arms and legs to the point that the puddle he landed in started to turn a slight red, and my brother ended up pissing himself out of fear. Once again, you'd expect my mom to call the cops on him or even just leave him, but this happened before the whole hitting on my older sister thing.

Later, when my brother was closer to maybe 7 or 8, Tony was playing darts with a friend of his while drunk. He calls my younger brother over and turns to his friend and tells him to 'Watch this' and proceeds to attempt to stick a dart through my brothers hand, he didn't make it through, but he did break skin, this was also before hitting on my sister.

We have a dog that we got during one of my mom's 'moments of clarity' where she'd keep him away for a few weeks to months and she had the opportunity to get a free pitbull puppy. Eventually Tony was allowed back into the house and instantly hated the dog because he felt "that was my mom's way of trying to replace him". One day, he's yelling at the dog and he scared her so much she peed on her bed. He then proceeded to hit her fifteen times. I only know this happened because I had just got home from school and heard it all go down while I was in the bathroom. He threw her outside where I then tried to comfort her and bring her back inside. When I tell you my heart shattered watching this small dog shake at the idea of walking back through that door. I ended up having to leave her out there and when I got back inside he tried to lecture me about 'rewarding bad behavior' and I snapped back at him because he was the reason she did what she did. He told me that if I wanted to see something worthless to go look in the mirror.

That was everything that happened while I was a child, I'm 19 now (I know, I'm sooooo old). A lot more has happened after that but I feel this is already long enough. As my final thoughts on this post, this experience has really made it hard to come to a conclusion about how I feel towards my mom. On one hand, she's the whole reason he was around (and still is kind of around) for as long as he was. But on the other hand, as a mom, she was.... it feels wrong to use the word amazing, but I'd definitely say she was above average. If we accidentally broke something, no matter how expensive, she would let us know that she doesn't care about what was broken as much as she cares about us. She encouraged us to get involved with stuff at school, no matter how poor we were she always made sure that Christmas, Easter, and even Halloween was amazing each year. It's just the lingering mental issues from growing up with such a violent and honestly scary guy, I can't help but blame her partially for it too.

I begged her all the time to get him away, I would tell my counselor (that she didn't want me to have, but I brought alcohol to school at 14 so I was required to meet with one weekly after my suspension) about the stuff going on so that children in youth would have to come and check the house out, I would stay away days on end until she threatened to call the cops saying I had ran away. I started cutting myself and she eventually found out because Tony had gone through mine and my older brothers room and taken a bunch of pictures of them, one picture being my diary detailing why I was doing what I was. She threatened to send me to a institution and when I told her to go for it, but that I was picking it out that just pissed her off and she grounded me. A day later she came to me crying and ungrounded me and we actually had a talk about it, where I once again asked her to get rid of him, but that's where the conversation stopped and she just quietly left my room.

As I said in the title, I struggle to identify all the above as traumatic/abusive because I was never physically injured, but the constant panic attacks and flash backs to the past 12 years of my life makes it hard to move in from it all. I honestly think I have some form of a dissociation disorder or something because I can't recall most of my life, I know pretty much all of what's happened the past 4 to 5 years, and I remember most of what went down in the house (mainly because of the constant retelling of events never allowing the memories to fade). But my school years are blank, my time out with friends, blank. It's so disheartening when a friend tries to be like "Remember when we did this in 6th grade?" And I just have to stand there, trying to remember quiet literally any interaction with this person throughout the years and coming up empty. But I know we had to have had interaction, because I know we've been friends all this time, there's just no memories. Sorry, I had one of my worst break downs last night and I guess I just needed to vent after my first day at my new job. (Suck it Tony! [He's been unemployed for the past 5 years and tries to say I'm lazy and am never making it anywhere in life]).

So when I was 14 and 7 days after my birthday I had to go through a religious ritual or something and in this ceremony I had to make many covenants. But a covenant I made because a friend influenced me to make this promise was to end my life if I was ever to leave the religion. I remember saying “God accept me as your son. I promise to die in here and to stay faithful forever so I can be in your celestial presence. And if I am deceived by satan and leave your home (Home for me was the temple) I promise to end my life. I am worthless without you in my life. If I leave my life has no purpose or place in this world anymore it’s better if I end my life that moment than to continue living.” After 5 months of finding out the religion was fake I contemplated of ending my life. I didn’t want to but I just had it in my mind because I promised to do so. Only thing stopping me was realizing all the covenants I made I didn’t have to complete because it was manipulation. Even after that whole incident I still went to the temple every Sunday and sometimes weekdays for 7 months after that. I was getting scared of continuing the religion because my wedding would be in a year. That was also one of my covenants I made. Luckily after my 15th birthday my dad asked me if was to continue going to church because I looked like I didn’t want to go anymore and it was okay to not go anymore to his books. I said I no longer want to go. He was okay with it. After that I knew a lot would happen. 5 months after that my sister stopped talking to me. I am just scared that maybe the religion is true. And I truly want to go back sometimes because if that means I get my family back I would do it. But I simply can’t live a lie. I feel like I am betraying myself. I sometimes catch myself singing the songs and still wanting to attend the temple so I can feel something. But I know if I go back I will be used again. Since I left they can’t find a new children studies teacher and they can’t find a replacement for the different groups I was part of. I want to help them but that would mean I would abandon myself but not helping them helps me. I feel selfish but I can be a door mat sometimes.

Where the fuck do I even begin?

I grew up in the 90's in a middle-class home with two working parents, an older brother of 12 years, 2 cats, and a dog. We had a white house, a long white picket fence, and we lived in a quite neighborhood. I had 2 grandmothers and 1 grandfather. A shit ton of aunts and uncles, and even more cousins. We were semi close to our nonimmediate family, but that seemed to vanish as we all got older.

I was a skinny fuck. I had a bowl cut and dimples. Regardless of my size and weight, it was easy for me to make friends. I guess I hadn't allowed all the childhood trauma to affect me yet. My mom used to pick out my outfits; she would make me go to all the department stores for clothes. I remember the Parisians, Belk, Macy's, JC Pennys (or just Pennies as my mom would call it) I even remember getting a couple sets of duds from Sears. I swear she had an addiction to pissing away money, but to be fair, she had a great job at the time as did my dad.

My mom worked in marketing for Panasonic - so we always got cool shit. The best perk was free tickets to any sporting or music event in Atlanta. I can remember going to see the Atlanta Knights, the Atlanta Falcons, the Braves, Disney on ice, and even Elton John.

My dad who was originally from North Carolina, worked at the General Motors plant in Doraville, where he retired from after 32 years. My dad was always my biggest fan - He taught me to ride a bike and how to throw a baseball. The typical dad. I am grateful for him.

Trauma:

Lol, I should have saved the "where the fuck do I begin?" for here.

(9 years old) My best friend Donnie was killed in a car crash. He and his family were leaving the lake when a car t-boned their van and Donnie was ejected from the window. His chest was completely sliced open and he bled to death in his moms' arms; she was an RN. :(

At the time I was in North Carolina visiting with my grandparents. My parents didnt have cell phones, so we didnt find out until we got home.... almost a week later. I remember my friend Thomas's mom calling nonstop when we finally did get home. I was in the living room watching 'Slam Dunk Earnest' and then my mom comes in the room and said she needed to tell me something. I can remember her trying to explain that he had passed away, and asked me if I wanted to say a prayer for him. I went to my room and sat by myself; I didn't fully understand death as this was the 1st time I was experiencing a loss. Since we were at my grandparents for a week, Donnie's funeral had already happened. I didn't even get to see my friend for one last time. I still get sad to this day because he was supposed to come spend the night with me once we got back from my Papa and Grandmas.

I remember the school called my parents and asked me a our classroom to come in on a Saturday - we all met in the art room across from the library. They sat us down and offered comfort through counceling. While we were sitting there talking about Donnie and life, I was looking around the room and glancing at all the art work from the 4th graders. He had a picture on the wall of a big-headed alien riding a rocket and crashing into a donut shop. lol. Donnie was an exceptional artist for his age. He and I both loved ALIENS! LOVED ALIENS!!! . I asked the teacher if I could have the drawing and she said yes. I still have it to this day. I miss him and have missed him my entire life. I often wonder where he would be in life today. I still to this day don't understand why he had to leave. I to this day hate God for taking him.

My own mother, the bitch. The fucking devil, and that's being pretty mean to Satan himself. Sorry, Diablo, but someone allowed this bipolar cesspool to exist and procreate.

Now really.... where the fuck do I begin? This is the whole premise of this dialog I am typing.

(7-9 years old) I can't recall why or where we were coming from, but we had my cat in the car. The cat being a cat, was mortified that it was in the car. Keep in mind my mom didnt have him in some sort of carrier like a normal person, so the cat was flying around inside her Astro van. Something pissed my mom off so bad that she grabbed my cat by the neck and rolled the driver window down and held him out the window while we were driving down the road. That image to this day is cemented into my brain. I can close my eyes and still see it. Fucked me up big time. I was bawling my eyes out begging my mom not to drop my cat. She yanked him back in a threw him to the back and that's all I can remember. I was probably expected to act like nothing had happened. Like always.

I'm sure I was an asshole at times, I was just a kid being a kid, but I can't remember if I deserved some of the face slaps and hair pulls that she did to me. The strong wrist squeezes, the bruises on my ass cheeks, the red welps on my face... I guess I was oblivious. She would scream and yell, she would cuss, she would throw shit, break shit. I would hide in my room.

(10 years old ish) I was playing baseball for a local church recreational league. Hebron Baptist Church to be exact. I was pitching and obviously just not having a good day. Thats normal. I was throwing balls, not getting the called strikes I wanted. Just an off day. Well I guess that was embarassing my mom in the bleachers, because she started shouting out for me to roll them in if I couldnt throw them in.... over and over and over again to the point where the umpire intervened and told her to shut up or he was going to toss her out of the park. The game is at a standstill now because my mom and the ump are going back and forth. I'm standing in the middle of the field on the pitchers mound and could feel everyone looking at me. How embarassing. "You're out of here!" shouted the umpire. He tossed my mom out and told her to go to the car until the game was over. Once again, embarrassing as fuck. These were kids from school that I was playing with, so I knew this wasnt going to just stay at the game, it was going to bleed outside and into my personal life as well. I dont know why my dad didnt say something to her. He let it happen. I remember that to this day.

(6-8 years old) It's true that cats land on their feet. I can still see my mom throwing my elderly cat down the basement stairs for peeing in the house. I was pleading with her to please let me cat go and she opened the basement door and threw her down 14 stairs. She landed on her feet but slammed into the wall. :( I too can still see this if I close my eyes.

(7 years old) My brother had this toy gun, made of plastic, and when he wasnt home, I would play with it. I guess I was fooling around outside, being a kid, and I fell. I had the plastic gun in my hand and whatever I slammed against it caused the pistol to break and the plastic sliced my hand open. I immediately ran inside crying because it hurt, but mostly because it was pouring blood everywhere. My mom rushed me into the bathroom and stuck my hand in the sink... the whole time I was crying and saying please mommy I dont want to die, I dont want to die. Being the award-winning mother she was, she kept saying, "you're gonna die, you're gonna die." Comforting quote to tell your child. I can still hear it.

Let's talk about dad for a second.

While my mom was a piece of shit, my dad was no immediate exception. I remember he was a heavy drinker when I was really little. My brother told me a story of one time when he was little, mom and dad were fighting and apparently our dad grabbed his loaded shotgun and aimed it at our mother. As morbid as it sounds........ maybe he should have....ahh.. nevermind. Missed opportunity. Oh well. Thanks dad for not blowing mom out the front door. Thanks for keeping it civil.

My dad was not the person you wanted to be around when you were in trouble either. Mom would hit me and slap me, but my dad was loud and big and always had, the belt. I can still hear him popping it to scare me when he was chasing me for my punishment. I can still remember getting walloped with it. He went bare ass cheek to leather belt. If he couldn't get my bare cheek, he settled for my legs. I remember one time getting hit so hard that I had a hard time walking up the stairs to go to my room. My legs were buckling from the throbbing pain and shivering still from fear that my dad just beat the fuck out of me. Let an hour pass and they both acted like nothing happened.

That is like my family's motto - if we don't talk about it, it didnt happen.

Regardless of the fucked-up shit, I still loved my parents more than anything! They loved me back, but it just didn't seem like it sometimes. I think they would buy me stuff to try and make me forget the punishments or when one of them was being mean. Fucked up part is I have the same genes and I get overly angry when I shouldnt. I dont want to be like that. I dont want to be that way to my kids. I dont want them to grow up fucked in the head like I am. I'm pretty much broken at this point.

Any ways, Dad was Dad, but man he could get mean.

Aside from the negative, he was awesome to me as a kid. He spent so much of his free time playing baseball with me. He went to Play it again sports and bought full catchers gear just so he could practice my pitching. I appreciate what he did for me when it comes to sports. I will always remember those beautiful times growing up. Thanks, Dad.

When I was little, I was like really picky with food. I also wasn't a bad kid, just unorganized and my parents/mom since my dad worked a lot often forgot to teach me good daily hygiene.

So anyways my mom used to force hot sauce onto my tounge then make me swallow it, I've never once in my life had a spice tolerance. It was that one really popular really spicy brand too, which was terrible for a 5-9 yr old kid. I think it probably messed with my taste buds too, either tastes like, spice, sour, and salty, are really amplified for me and then sweet or subtle flavors aren't really tasteable, Kind of like how you'd imagine British food to taste. It was like for not cleaning right(?) or like getting mad

My mom also made me watch crime documentaries about people getting killed in their own house so uh that too 🕺 I developed some weird ass anxiety or paranoia from that or whatever for a while

She also would like force me to eat food or else I couldn't leave the table, I mostly force myself to eat now It was mostly like food I didn't like or food I found repulsive. I just would sit there, and nibble on it trying to not to cry, just to go to bed.

She also used to threaten me with CPS a lot, Like a 4 yr old kid not being able to clean her entire room right alone, like one sock or something, she did it a lot growing up

Anyways she got karamanized on that last one BCS we did end up with a CPS case after she left me alone at home for hours at night when I was 10-11 years old 😘

She's stopped now after, maybe because I've been a bit open about it now and she's realized a lot of stuff, and maybe my dad talked to her about all of it or something

Like this Australian PSA From the year 2007 it’s literally nightmare fuel. Like the really think they are teaching you to not do piracy, when they are traumatising billions of people. Luckily I don’t see you this any more.

I wanted to ask people who escaped their dysfunctional families’ home at a young age about your experiences, how hard was it, what did you feel, & how long it took you to find stability & then a sense of it. Also do you ever feel safe?

Because for me I am still financially dependent on my parents & they would crumble to ashes b4 they even admit we live a terribly abnormal situation & get me out of there (there literally has been a threat to our life due to violence & mental issues, I have lost my soul & my dad calls a past we could all put behind, very invalidating & highly delusional), I hear people stayin at friends’ houses for a bit then renting off on their own but aint no way ur makin it w minimum wage in my country ( I’m a student btw). I hopefully will b getting a dorm soon (also terrible in my country) which definitely provides time & space but I then have a really busy schedule with studying as well as being an athlete, add the daily discomfort of the mere way I live & my mental health now I have to make room for making money, my life has never gotten so hard & hectic, yet I love it tbh; this is all I wanted, doing things, living life (as messed up as it gets), it’s lore. If I could plan this ahead, what would be most strategic?

She doesn't even admit it even now, 26 years later.

I've been living with my bio dad since I was 2, I don't know much of the real story, all I know is that I was sick and my mother was letting me die from the fever so my father decided to take me in.

Her story is that he was babysitting me and I once fell asleep at his house and never wanted to come back home. Right, leaving your two year old daughter to live with a neighbour just because that's what she wanted.

My dad's family kept telling me that he's my father but whenever I asked my mom she'd completely deny it so I lied to myself into delusion. It took me until I was 22 to accept it and finally grive the life she made me live.

I finally confronted her a year ago and she went nuts at me, that she can't belive that I belive she'd do something like that.

But she did much worse than that, she took me to dates of two men she was cheating her husband with. She left him when I was 9 and I know of at least 3 men she cheated her new husband with, one of them being his BIL.

It messed me up so much to not understanding why my "dad" doesn't love me as much as my brother, why he's not getting me candy too and why he blamed me for my mother leaving him, along with many other thing. Even now he pretends he's my father, he probably lied to himself and others so much that he belived it in the end.

I hate her so much, not only for the cheating, but also for not owning up to it even now, I wanna take a DNA test just to throw it in her face and get it over with, but I'm honestly scared of her reaction.

I love my father so much and he's done his best considering the circumstances, he still works his ass off now at 80 to save up money for me. I couldn't ask for a better father. It hurts my soul that because of my mom I never got to call him "dad" and deny in front of his family that he's my dad. I can't imagine how he felt.. I can't bring myself to even open a conversation about it, I feel so ashamed of it.

I grew up ashamed, confused and feeling like I didn't belong anywhere. I still feel like I'm not worthy of love, that I'm not supposed to be here.

I am thankful that I broke out of her spell, I used to pity her so much, but now I live with so much hatred for her, I can't bring myself to forgive her.

She caused me and my brother so much pain, we both lived in incomplete families because of her. And now my little sister gets to learn bad behaviours from her, as I'm sure she hasn't stopped her behaviour.

I don't know how to even begin healing from it, talking about it doesn't help. I've grieved for more than two years, I seen her side of it, I accepted it, it just doesn't help. I wish I could just cut her out of my life, but I can't until my sister is 18 as I want to be part of her life and I know she won't let her talk to me anymore if we argue, as she did it before.. I wish I could just forget she ever existed and live my own life

VENT - Potentially being undiagnosed has destroyed my life. For starters, I don't want this post to come across as me self-diagnosing myself with ASD since I have most of the signs. (I.E. hyperfixations, emotional dysregulation, lack of social skills, etc.)

TW: Implications of SI and other mental health issues discussed, severely mentally ill parents, hate crime, physical AND sexual assault, and just generally being bullied and victimised as a whole.

Anyways, as the title suggests, I feel as if potentially being undiagnosed has destroyed my life, and I literally have no idea what to do anymore.

For starters, my emotions get so bad to the point where I have SI - particularly depression and anger, and these bouts can last for hours or minutes. On another extreme however, I don't feel emotions at all. For example, whenever my mum has a manic / depressive episode, it doesn't phase me as much as it phases my sister.

Growing up in a single-parent household didn't really help either. My mother has bipolar disorder type 1 and that means that she's somewhat absent towards my sister and I.

School was the worst for me. In primary, I never really had any friends, and when I did have friends - they walked out of my life and I felt so lonely despite having them. I would always eat and often be alone, being in my own personal bubble that I could never pop.

It all really ramped up in secondary school, though. They never took me seriously, even when I had literal psychosis from being physically assaulted 5 times, got bodyshamed, bullied, harassed, victimised, and I even got groped at one point by another student IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS. I often would think about what I did "wrong" to make people hate me so much, why I couldn't be like other boys my age, why I never fit in no matter how hard I tried, what I did to make people make rumours and jokes about me behind my back.

That fear is still there, that fear of talking to and being around people, that fear of not knowing what people's true intentions are, that fear of faux confidence and trust in someone.

Now that I'm in sixth-form, the social isolation aspect has really impacted me like a truck. Everyone has friends, and yet here I am unwilling to make any because in a way, I'm still scared of people and have my guards up. I just feel so alone to the point where my chest hurts and I want to feel validated, comforted, and loved. I feel like this world is not made for heavily traumatised, undiagnosed people like me, and I've never felt so lonely and out of place.

Unfortunately though, I think that's never going to happen since it's my life now. I push people away constantly now, I hate going outside, and I hold a deep resentment towards other people because of the shit that they caused for me. I have attachment, trust, and abandonment issues now and I just want someone to understand. Someone who actually makes the effort. Someone who wants to comfort and validate me to make things all the more bearable. I'll honestly just take anyone, I don't care who anymore.

My niece is 6-7yrs old and my sister in law beats her for no reason or silly reasons, talks to her in a very very harsh way

When we(me or my parents) intervene she says “No if u speak in between she will not listen to her mother”, which I think is absurd bcz when you don’t listen to your elders in front of your child, they notice and follow the same

Kids are generally sensitive and stubborn, we have to deal with love and a lot of patience but she has anger issues and we don’t know what to do honestly. It hurts me to core to see my niece (she is a very talkative loving child) go through this. It happens weekly 2-3times.

Sometimes I pray a lot that, my niece gets older asap and leave home and have a free trauma free life

Hello everybody! This is the 3rd part of my story. I have the other 3 parts on this subreddit if you want to read it.

Now it’s September 2023. I get called up to my pastors home because a church member reported me for harassment. For context this woman for 2 years kept bothering me so I called her up to tell her to stop and leave my family alone. She got mad and called me names and I told her things I shouldn’t have. And got reported because I put her in her place. My pastor told me things and guilt tripped me. And my dad was numb at that point. Before I entered his home I was still a believing church member I was a full believer of the church and the faith. After leaving his home it felt like it was my sign to leave. When I left it felt like someone stabbed me in my heart and someone literally punched me to my stomach. For the first time in a long time that day I cried a whole lot. I was confused and told my siblings what happened and I tried to be strong for them but I couldn’t. So much feelings was going on I couldn’t control it. I was having an official faith crisis at the time. When my dad left the home he went back to the car quiet and the drive back he was quiet and me too. Once we got home we all acted like nothing happened but for me. I had to get ready to go to the temple. So I got ready but while getting ready I looked myself at the mirror and realized that I’m a human being and not a waste. So I went to the temple and didn’t listen to the sermon nor even prayed. I just knew that day September 2nd 2023 would be my last day as an active member. I came back home that day. I didn’t stay to sell food or clean the temple. I went back home much much earlier. I came back home at 9 pm and felt guilty. I went back home and started to see videos of people experiences in the church. I binged those videos for hours until it was 12. Now I was getting ready to sleep. And it was 2 hours earlier than I would. The next day I woke up my family overslept to go to Sunday school and I felt guilty for not going but also said I need to calm down. After 20 days of digging into church history, church crimes, church doctrine changes and having the overwhelming feeling that I shouldn’t get married at 16. I decided to leave. I left September 22nd of 2023. After that day I had to prepare a party for a kid I would babysit and that day would be the last day I would babysit that kid. While I’m helping preparing the party. The kids cousin came to me and asked me for my phone. I said no. And it wasn’t because I was scared because of I what i watch. All I would watch would be church music , church topics, outfit ideas and fun activities when you’re bored. But something on my search history was never there. It was topics about anti church media. And I was scared they would tell their mom who is a pastors wife of the same church. So I said no. Then he took my phone away from me and started to search up nasty things (basically s*xual crimes) I was only scared that he would see I saw anti church stuff. Luckily he didn’t . I remember once the party started I felt this overwhelming feeling that I no longer belong at the party because every here is a church member that believes and I don’t. After that day I never babysat. After that day I didn’t go to a Sunday school. After that day all my church activities started to die. I no longer did anything church related. I stopped going to church theme parties. I stopped going to all member related events. But I still went 1-2 times a week because I was scared that maybe my dad would disown me if he knew I left the church. So I had to pretend to be a lukewarm member. Fast forward to November. I felt sad. I took a really long break from homeschooling ( I took 3 months off ) and was depressed and sad and realized my life was a lie. Realized my mom was abusive. Realized I was groomed. Realized I was abused . Realized my whole existence was a joke. I felt so sad to the point where I would stay in bed for days and days on end. I would only get up so do chores but they would done with low effort I only got up to do chores for 30 minutes and eat. Other than that I was in bed all day everyday. My hair was a mess, I looked miserable for 3 months. I felt betrayed. I felt like my life has no meaning. That was until Early December I still was depressed. But I started to hit the gym. And that helped me get up from bed. And I found this dude on IG who was nice to me and we talked he was from Spain. (Funny enough I had a crush on a girl from Spain). But that still was not enough. So I just felt more and more sad. I started to sleep from 10 pm - around 12 pm. Then late December of that year I found someone that was around my age and we had a good first impression. So we started to talk. Felt kinda better after knowing him. But still felt sad because I felt empty. I did a lot of shopping sprees, I did a lot of self care, I did a lot of reading and I did a lot of online interactions and some of that helped me. It wasn’t until in February of 2024 where I started public high school. It was overwhelming and a lot. I didn’t understand how everything was going fast. Because 5 months ago I was an active cult member of a highly closed group. And going into the real world and not as a cult member trying to make people join. Now it was as a normal person. So my first day of class I literally had the whole school come up to me and ask me who I am. I was stunned and said Uh my name is ***! And they would automatically ask me for instagram and started to ask me where I’m from and where did I come from?? It was a lot . I was a popular kid automatically. I made a lot of friends.or so I thought. All of the teachers loved me as usual. I was still the quiet kid. And they were shocked how quiet and how not rude I was. All the kids would say inappropriate stuff to the teachers and would be rude to them. I was nice to everyone and anyone. I would come to class prepared and ready. I wore “modest” clothing. I didn’t cuss. I stayed quiet during class. I was a clean kid. And when teachers would ask me about why I was homeschooled it mostly opened up about how I was born into a cult. And from there everyone would know why I behave the way I do. Every time I would talk to kids my age I would say “ Uh hi! I’m ***. And something fun about me is that I was born into a cult” that’s how I would start a conversation. And it was strange to them because they would literally tell me “How am I so hot as a homeschooled and as a kid with trauma “ (FYI: I don’t think I’m attractive I’m just saying what kids would tell me) I would be speechless because growing up everyone would tell me I’m ugly but a provoking person. And yes at school I was sexualized as well. In March - May was months where a lot happened. In March it was my last time I ever participated in anything church related. I last participated in church revelation ceremony. Last month I went to a 14 presentation. Last month I gave money to the church and last time I ever helped with anything. And yes My last Sunday school was the last day of that month. March 31st. But March was the first month I wore clothing that use to make me uncomfortable. I started to swear. I basically did everything a normal human does. I made friends, but also lost friends. I actually went out to hang out with friends for the first time. I remember the last words of one of my best friend from the church and her last words to me where “Don’t let the devil allow you to take you to hell. You need to keep coming to the temple so you can feed your soul” I was sad she believed that and left with a smile knowing that I’m glad I don’t believe what they believe in. In April (On my birthday) I left the church officially and never came back. And I went to the temple with baggy jeans, a sweatshirt, baggy jacket, and a messy hair style. Everyone looked at me like I was a slime and walked out happy. That same month I got into my first relationship. The same month I bought my first pair of shorts. The same month I lost many friends and my popularity died after I got with my ex. From that point I was thinking of going back to the church. And in May my partner broke up with me. In the summer I got sick and found out my mom faked her death. And 1 day before I left for a trip to Utah my sister disowned me. And when I came back she didn’t speak to me or acknowledges my existence. So it’s been almost 3 months without speaking to her. And honestly it’s been hard but I’m getting by. Everyone who harmed me think nothing happen and ask for me and ask why I didn’t talk to them anymore. I can say that now I’m happy. I may not be going to a church. I may not be popular. I may not be a very nice person. But I’m happy. I’m growing. And the 3 friends I have I consider them my best friends. I consider my brother as my life long friend because he’s supported me. That’s my story in a nutshell. I have so many and many and many and many stories about my experiences in the church and about my family but I only have highlighted the most significant ones or the ones that highlight my traumatic life.

I can honestly go days and a days talking and writing about this. But I won’t waste your time.

Lastly the only 2 people I have in my life whose been with me through my worst and best I truly wish they where close with me because they are so helpful. One of them live near me but she has a BF and doesn’t go anywhere so we can’t hang out as much but we do text frequently.

I want to finally say that to any victims who had gone through at least 1 abusive situation I want to say I’m sorry and know you won’t get a sorry from the people who harmed you. Only the people who heal you will apologize. I send a big warm cozy hug to anybody who is a victim 🫂!

I (24) cannot remember most of my childhood. I was extremely anxious and stressed, and I was assaulted when I was 14 by a classmate. I don't remember much before that but I've gotten older and in learning to cope with my childhood I find myself slowly remembering more, and for a while now I can't shake the feeling I was SA'd before my teens. I touched myself at a very young age, younger than I remember, I had yeast infections a lot, I peed my pants until I was maybe 11-13 and maybe even later, I got extremely anxious when anyone, parents or others were supposed to change near me, I have this specific memory where my doctor really quickly pulled back my short leg and look at my genitals in front of my mom, but quick like as if i wouldn't notice. I must of been really little, but I felt so scared and embarrassed. I remember telling my mom I knew what sex was but I thought it was just kissing naked. I know my mom left me alone with a man she knew was a pedophile many times but I wasn't in his known age range, I was 'too young' for him. I don't know. I don't think i can ever know for sure. What do I do with this? How would I even let it go? Who knows who else my mom could've left me with. I despise her for this

Hello everyone! This is a Pt.2 of my abusive life.

So In February of 2022 I cut all connections with my family because they did me harm and some even disowned me.

Fast forward to April 2022. I opened up a facebook account and I had 3 friend request of people I didn’t know but being a naive 13 year old I accepted and they started telling me they are the “secret family “ members no one talks about. And it’s strange because they have like over 500 friends and most of them had my mom’s last name so I was like if it is a secret how is that my extended family knows you?? They just said my mom didn’t like them and never spoken to them not even mentioned them to me. I was okay with there explanation. And continue to have a conversation with them but in reality they were just talking to me about how I should allow my grandma in my home again and how I should just move on. I was really made and when I would tell my dad about he just said to continue talking to them and to not block them because my dad wants to know info about the family. Ofc I was mad at him to and said “Why do you care so much about the life of a women who harmed me” my dad said “just so I can protect you” I couldn’t argue back and said nothing. And i continued talking to them until June 2022. Then I blocked them because I felt uncomfortable talking to them. By now I have transferred from homeschooling to online homeschooling. And when my dad asked me about the family I just said they haven’t responded to me nor texted me he said “block them they are no longer useful”. I said finally so I ghosted my entire family. That some month my grandma texted me and said “How are you kid I know it’s been a long time but I love you” I told her all her things and she said “stop being rude I am your grandma “ I said no your are not your just a step grandmother who is dead to me. She got mad and started attacking me.

In July of that year I still continued my miserable life of not eating or sleeping. At this time I had a lot of friends on Facebook from my church community so i accepted all of them. But I had like 3 p3d0f1les in my DMS asking how I was and ECT… I had a conversation with them and when they started to ask for “provocative pictures” I said okay. And once they asked for nudes I was confused and blocked them because I was completely confused about what they meant by that. And I reported it to my pastor who got me in trouble for provoking the brothers. I felt guilty about my body. I felt gross being a boy. I felt gross just being in my body. I took showers with t-shirt because I felt gross about my body that hopefully it doesn’t provoke anyone. I would be ashamed of changing clothes because I didn’t want to be naked just to change. And every time I had to take my shirt off or worst take my undergarments off I felt this insane overwhelming fear about how I can cause someone to sin on how I am right now. That same time frame I was starting to get groomed by church members. And the pastor was treating me in an inappropriate manner. The church members would ask me the same sick questions my mom would ask me about “do you shave” “ Do you know how the vgina works” “ How big is it” “ If you don’t have lube us vasaline “ I would always feel this anger of confusion because i truly didn’t know what was happening. I would cry at night asking myself why don’t I understand them? And my pastor started to put ideas in my head to hate my father. He started to say because of my dad’s fault I’m going to hell if I don’t be active. And how my dad caused my mom to die. And how my dad is a gross man of a man he is. And how my dad could rpe my 11 year old sister. And how it was inappropriate of my dad to buy feminine hygiene products to my sister. And how because of my dad’s fault we are skinny. And how it was my dad’s fault for making my sister fat. It was a lot he was telling make me hate my dad. And yes I did start to hate my dad for 2 years because of the ideas this pastor was telling me. And during this time I had so much on my plate. I was worned out so much. Because now I’m a children studies teacher, translator, missionary, went to church 3 times a day, had to babysit, had to do house chores, had to do school and had to be a pastors helper. It was so much I had to the point where I was just so exhausted. I had visible under-bags. And during my “free time” I would dedicate it talking to my dad how I feel. He wouldn’t listen to me and ignore me and just say okay whatever but I had to listen to my dad complaining about things I didn’t understand and had to help him. I had to be an emotional support person to my siblings as well while also grieving. I FORGOT TO MENTION. But in February of 2022 I had a therapist would also defend my grandmother and tell me my dad would be taken away from me . And how I was provoking her and was overall not defending me and guilt tripping me to think it was my fault of the abuse. This caused me to develop this behavior that I would take fault for everything someone or I did. This caused me to stay silent even if I wanted to speak out. This caused me to feel like I’m the crazy one. Made me feel dehumanizing. Going back. Now it’s January 2023. I’m feeling happy after a long time because i was going to go through the special “14” I’ll get to that soon. Now I stopped being a missionary, family stopped bothering me, and I only went to church 2 times a day. But I was still underfeed and had a sleeping disorder. But now things would only get more gross and intense. During the time period of January- March of 2023 a lot of sick perversion happened. So ima just list some of the things that happened to me in no order: • A church member was pressuring me to sleep with a prostitute and I didn’t do it • A family friend asked me if I watch porn and if I didn’t I can watch it right now so I can see how it was like to be a “macho man” • the same family friend told me “Good thing you got rped because now you are experienced to have sx” she also told me “Well I deserved to be abused because I was troubling kid. (FYI. I have autism and ADHD so when I was little it would be hard to control my emotions) •The kids I was babysitting put prn on my phone so I can do something they like to call a “ Nut circle” with me and him and MY 10 year old brother and a 9 year old boy PLUS a 5 year old. I was absolutely sickened and ran out crying because I knew I was going to get in trouble for a thing I never did. • This one church told my dad me and my brother were doing the “nasty” because “the way we are close is the a way couples are close” and my dad would get mad when me and my brother would talk or even hang out. • I once was talking to a family friend and she started to explain to me how to have sx. And how I should start preparing. And I had a whole 1 hour conversation about sx and what positions to do. (Forgot to mention as well In June of 2022 I had sign up to get married at 16 so my wedding date would have been April 27th 2025) All that I was told or had experienced in a matter of 3 months. In April of 2023 it was time for my 3/4 special events. Me turn 14 , My Presentation or Independence ceremony where I basically went in front of the altar of the temple and had to make a speech on how lucky I was to be part of the true church and how I promise to stay I in the church for the rest of my life. Nothing traumatic happened. 6 days after that I had to go to the revelation ceremony where pretty much you are in a prayer a special type of prayer where the temple windows are covered up buy curtains and only certain worthy members are allowed inside the temple during the duration of the ceremony. In this I wore a certain type of clothing I never wore or wear and during this special event I had to be on my knees and say “Glory to Christ” until I started speaking toungs. And in this saliva, throw up, blood, boogers come out and people are singing songs that belittle you and people are coming up to your ear saying that your dog and how gross you are and no one loves me more than god and if I can’t proof to god I love him then I’m a human waste. During this I had to make promises I could only let God know and no one else. I covenanted to kll myself if I was to leave the church. I covenant to stay I. The church . I convented to give one of my children to the church. And i convented to get married at 16 but also convented to give half my paycheck to the church. After that I got up after 4 hours and was confirmed and sealed to go to heaven. And the following the day I had to go through the baptism but before that. There is a starting time point where before you are baptized you are 6 questions. If you agree to all of them you are baptized. After my baptism nothing much happened really. Until June of that year. During this month 3 things happened. I had a faith crisis where I started doubting my faith. I got threats of kidnapping and most of my church friends left me and I only had like 2 church friends. Nothing happened at all and continued my life but my faith activity started to weaken. My children studies teaching days where over in March, and I would only help out cleaning and go to church 2 time a day. But was still an active member of the church. I will post a part 3 soon because what I’m about to get into because my church experience is different to my abusive life experiences.

Some things I may forgot to mention was this: My mom saw my disability not as a way to be a better person she only saw me as money. Because she thought because of my disability she can get money from the government. My father was abusive but not as intense as my mom in late 2020 he stopped being abusive. I had a sexuality crisis in early 2022 because the r*pe. I thought me not enjoying the experience of my rape was a sign of me being gay. And back then I was homophonic because of my sexuality doubting. I felt gay but thought it was just because I’m not a “macho man”. I would pray about it When I was sick with stomach pain it was mysterious and doctors didn’t know what was wrong with me. It got to the point where they thought I was lying. In late 2021 I would get private phone calls everyday and I would be scared to respond and when I did they would immediately hang up. I may have forgotten more things but these are some I forgot or mention.

Just as a warning, this does talk about ab*se, su!c!de, sh and stuff...

I (16F) am the youngest of six kids. We had all grown up with an abusive and controlling dad and my parents finally separated three years ago. We took the divorce to court with accounts against my dad of assault, abuse, and neglect. No one believes that our life was that hard because we don't act like we've been abused as children and teenagers but sometimes I'll paint them this little picture of what our life looked like:

We had very strict standards of behavior. By the time we were 3 we could interact with any adult, we had to follow really strict etiquette, and by the time we were 7 we were cleaning the house, doing all the laundry, and cooking most meals. We had a strict daily schedule where we only had a certain amount of time for playing, reading, eating, and seeing each other. When we were eating, my dad enforced portion control and no getting seconds. No technology. Dad would pick our toys, books, and who we were with for those activities. We had family devotions every morning and night and we never watched any TV. We had to be perfect academically, socially, and physically, and this was just crazy. If you had a bad grade, said something childish, talked back or didn't do your chore correctly, it warranted overly aggressive physical punishment. There was constant name calling, verbal abuse, yelling, using household items as weapons, kicking us out, threats, loss of meals as punishments, and beatings. My dad would leave for months on end to 'punish my mom' and he would take all of the money and resources with him every time. We would have left sooner but there was nowhere to go for us. The behavior standards paid off in some areas as other parents were very impressed with us and that gave us some kind of validation because dad never said we were good enough for him and never treated us like his children. We were raised to make our dad look good and even though we screwed up a lot, we had to be the model children in front of other people.

Now that we are adults, it is funny watching my mom treat our past like it never happened. We never use it as pity and barely talk about it to people or even each other, but we acknowledge that it still happened because denial would be worse. My mom has a hard time believing that mental health struggles are real especially now that dad isn't around. She denies all of the self harm and suicide attempts among us kids and says dad had nothing to do with it even though all of us have our history with those because of dad. During the 3 year divorce process, she went to counseling literally every day and dealt with her mental and emotional stuff way before any of us even knew how screwed up we were. Technically, it takes 2-3 years for you to fully get out of fight or flight mode so a lot of us are just now really experiencing what our mental state really is. My mom doesn't think our anxiety, depression, or PTSD are real and will give her own reasons behind our depressive episodes, panic attacks, and triggers. Like I don't like loud noises or being yelled at and my mom says it's because I listen to music with headphones all the time, but I know that it's from the concussions that dad gave me and all of the yelling and throwing things that happened when I was younger.

My mom had a lot more resources than we did during the divorce because all of her friends wanted to help her as much as they could and gave her all the therapy, money, and support she needed. For us as the kids, it was like we weren't also victims just because we weren't married to the man. We haven't been able to get any therapy or counseling from good therapists because most of them have already seen my mom and they can't see multiple members of the same family. Because my mom isn't struggling as much any more, she thinks we aren't either and she invalidates every negative emotion we have regardless of where it came from. You can work through things as much as you want, but it really never changes what happened.

My mom has always been complaining about me not responding when I’m being yelled at. For example, not responding as to why I did the dishes late. The true reason is that I had a lot of homework and had to study for quite sometime. But I can’t say that or I’ll be insulted. So I don’t say anything. No matter what I say, I’ll get yelled at even more. So how do I recover from that trauma. Anytime I try to defend myself, I get yelled at, even for telling the truth. No one believes I’m telling the truth, so I don’t even try. I just stand there, staring at the ground. What do I do?

Hello! I want to share what it was like growing up in my life. I want this story to help at least 1 person realize perversion is happening in there life. I am the oldest of 3 siblings. I have technically 0 biological family members. Besides my grandfather who passed away in 2014. And a Grandmother but she doesn’t know I exist. And my other grandfather left my dad at a young age. So I don’t know my family at all.

It all started at the moment I was born. I was born into a cult. A year after I was born my sister was born. Then 3 years after I was born my brother was born. When I was 4 the leader of the cult was sick. My mom would pressure me to behave good so once he died I and my family could go to the Regins of the heavens. My mother banned Disney, Nickelodeon, certain PBS kids shows, Movies, Music, and having friends of certain religions. Over the years she would be more and more strict. We had a dress code, a Walking code, a talking rule. Basically the dress code for me was more enforced than anyone else. I wasn’t allowed to own t shirts unless I had a white long sleeve undershirt under me and also was always wearing a white undershirt under my shirts. I was never allowed to grow out my hair so I always had buzz cuts even if was medium length it was to long for my mom so she would cut it. The walking code was to never run unless I had permission (which would only be at the park). I wasn’t allowed to skip, jump, nor even walk in any way besides walk normally. The talking rule was to speak in a tone of respectfulness. That means no high voices, No rude tones, no groans, no mad voices, no sad voices, no crying noises. And if I would express my feelings in a certain way she would put my ear or even dig her nail under my skin until I would shut up. That’s when I realized i had to stop and when I would cry and someone asked what happened I had to respond with a “I was being bad so mom said I am not allowed to play this week” I would be scolded and told “ your such a bad kid. You need to behave good. I wonder how your mom puts up with you. I thought this was normal. Without a doubt. When I would get home I knew what would happen. My mom would get out the charger and wipe me on my thighs, face, arms, everywhere except my butt because that part is only for “Sexual pleasures” and that that part “ Is to soft for you to learn your lesson”. The only things I had in my home were toys they would buy my sister and a Nintendo DS AND a Nintendo Switch. When I got my first stuff toy in 2017. I was happy. I wanted to take good care of it. My mom told me I’m to old with toys and that if I play with one I would never grow up. So I always had that dog standing in my bedroom. Every time my mom would take a nap I would play with a stuff toy. Because if she woke up I had to clean up. I remember feeling so much pressure. Only thing she was not strict was me playing with my Nintendo. I developed a strong bond with Mario (And I still do as a teenage boy :) ) Mario was my only source of light and honestly as inspiration. When I would play Mario and every time I was saving peach. I thought to myself I feel like her but I don’t know why. I feel like I’m trapped but I’m not but never said it. When my sister found out Mario kissed peach in a game she deleted it from my Nintendo system and I was so upset and I cries to my mom because I was truly so upset. What she did is that she defended my sister and told me “Then what’s next? You want to watch porn” I got scared because I would never dare watch such things. So I stayed quiet but then my mom hit me with a wooden spoon in my mouth and told me “ You know not to make any noise”. Besides that at school it was tough. I went to 2 schools. A public and private. The private one was more calm but I was only there for 3 years. I only was picked on but never bullied. But when I transferred to public school I was being bullied everyday. And the only people I would eat with was with the popular kids. But only 1 girl was nice to me but I couldn’t do much because if I had friends I would be dead. So pretty much I only consider the people I hung out with as classmates but never friends. And that was allowed.

By the time it was my last year in public school I was basically a North Korean prisoner. I was not allowed to wear certain shoes, clothes, cartoons are officially banned,TV shows are banned, having toys was confiscated until I was good (only lasted until 2021). Not allowed to hang out with anyone, Not allowed to leave my home unless my mom was outside, wasn’t allowed to talk to anybody in my neighborhood, not allowed to even play pretend, my mom destroyed my Nintendos. Every time I would come back home I would just cry in secret and pretend I was doing my homework. I would typically take a nap after me crying. This lasted for 2 years. My teacher in 5th grade wouldn’t give me homework. But I would fake I would. My mom wouldn’t check if I did my homework because I was a good kid at school. Always did my homework. Was a still, quiet, helpful kid in school. I would help clean the Assembly Hall AKA the lunch room, I would help the teachers with cleaning up the classroom and cleaning the school because I was bored and had no friends. When it was the last day of school or the day before Holiday break I would break down knowing that I would have no purpose for a week or for 3 weeks. I had a high view at the school. This made all the teachers jealous of my teacher because of me I was an excellent kid like a teachers dream student. Like I don’t know if you remember but you know how they had those clips where you would move it up if you where good or down if you where bad. I always had the high status in the class I was always at outstanding everyday. I felt proud. But I was never a AVID kid. I had a hard time learning. But I still pushed through . I had decent grades. If I got a 2.6 or lower I would be grounded until my mom felt like not. If I had a 2.6 - 3.9 it was expected of me to get that. If I got a 4 that meant I would get French fries after school.

My life as a kid was not easy. Because outside school I would get bullied at church, my mom would torture me to release her stress, or because she felt hate towards me. She would constantly tell me “I wish murder was legal so I could murder you and I would smile while doing it” “I wish I die so I can go to hell and never see you” “ I wish I never got pregnant with you” and it would be random. And she would hit my head towards the wall until I felt dizzy and fell on the floor. She would walk away and she would wake me up with a cord. When I would wake up she was relieved I wasn’t dead because if I was dead “She would hate my dead body even more because of me I would have sent her to jail”. She didn’t even feel glad I was okay. She would hit me with a knife so she can “accidentally” stab me. She once hit my head with rock so I could fall and have a good laugh. I thank the lord that nothing bad happened to me. And if she was made at me she would hit me until I would shake. She smiled while doing it. She would brag about it to her friend and would say “I feel like such a bad mom for hitting them but it’s for there own good and sometimes I cry because I do so” but that a lie. She did it with a smile and laughed. And would make my siblings watch me so they can laugh to. My brother never laughed and would feel bad. My sister would laugh at me. I would look at my sister and say why is this funny if I’m in pain. But I thought it was normal. So I just thought it was normal for me to laugh at other people’s pain. And my mom taught me that. Every time I would pass by a road kill I would laugh for no reason and my mom would laugh to. I thought it was normal to laugh at sick people, to laugh at dead things and laugh at others people suffering. I did it because I was conditioned. Now I don’t do it.

I had so much chores when I would come back home. I had to clean the living room, my room , clean the bathroom, clean the front yard , clean the backyard, dust and organize the clothes. I had to complete all that in 1 hour and 30 min. And thanks to that I can clean THE WHOLE HOME in less than 45 minutes if I work fast and efficient. That means cooking a meal, cleaning the kitchen, living room, dinning hall, my room, the washrooms, the yards and all the stuff.

Growing up my mom would make me wear girl things so she can humiliate me and laugh and then hit me for acting gay. And she would sometimes make me smell her bras and wear her undergarments so she can laugh.

My mom would also walk naked around me and when I would NOT look she told me I can look at her because she’s seen me naked. But I wouldn’t look at my mom naked. She would sometimes lock me in her room and she would do something with her private parts and I would look confused because I didn’t understand what was happening. Then she would ask me to leave.

I was the least favorite child of my mom. I was under so much pressure and hated on. It got to the point where my sister just grew up not liking me. And I was fine with it.

When I was entering puberty things got weird. When I was 11 I entered puberty. During the pandemic. And my mom would ask me how I shave, and how big was it, and how I could masturbate in front of her. At the time I didn’t know what that was (I didn’t even know what that was until one of my friends was talking about it and when I searched it up and saw what it actually was I actually got sick to my stomach and was disgusted until I found out it was normal but that’s besides the point) So the day she asked me to masturbate in front of her and when I asked her what do you mean? She started to explain what I needed to do. I was still and frozen. I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know what was happening. Then she left very angry and told me “Your useless” I did not care or even listen to her because I couldn’t believe what I heard. And after 3 days I got into a fight with my mom in public and it was the first time I did that since 2017. And when I did it I let all go. I pulled her hair I told her all the things I been saving up to tell her. She started crying. And I felt good but felt bad. I felt bad that I made my mom cry but I felt good knowing that probably she will stop harming me. After that day I never once got hit, spanked, and all rules for lifted and could do whatever. BUT that didn’t last long because after February 2021 (the month of the incident) in May of 2021 she kicks the bucket. She dies. I felt bad because she left knowing her son harmed her (FYI: she faked her death I found out exactly 3 years after her passing) I felt so sad. I felt guilty. I felt this sense that it was my fault that she died. Before I go into her death. I have to go through a brief history of this time period June 2019 - April 2020 So in June 2019 the leader of my church got arrested and that lead me to feel guilty because of my sins I made him go to jail. And throughout the whole year of 2019 the church was never allowed to go anywhere. And my grandmother come to visit us from December 2019 - March 2020. And when she came in 2019 I was happy. Then she started abusing me 1 day before Christmas Eve. She first started with hitting me with pots and pans and not feeding me because I didn’t deserve to eat. That’s how it started. And 2 months before she came my mother started to talk about death after my grandmother coming. And I had it in my head but never got to me until now. Going back to December 2019. And the last week and a half of that month/ Year. I dealt with more abuse. And in January 3rd of 2020 I we r*ped. And after that. My life would just go down fall. My grandmother would not allow me to to rest in my bed, sit in the couch, not allow me go not even see outside, not allow me to eat, she didn’t feed me, she payed my half cousins ( I don’t consider half / Step family members as biological or family) to bully me. And my cousins would constantly come to my grandmother and tell her things that aren’t true. And my grandmother would lock me outside my home until I would be severely dehydrated and would just let me in so she doesn’t go to jail. What made it worst that in February of 2020 I switched to public school to homeschool. So all day everyday I would deal with my grandmothers abuse. And having 2 abusers in a home at once made it overwhelming. No one knew. Not even my church. They thought I lived normally. Not true I was living hell everyday. My home was prison. Until March of 2020 she left after my grandmother telling my mom how she hates her and how she’s not her biological mother. After that I felt like a rock left my shoulder. But also felt like a part of me was taken and robbed. From that moment (now I realized) that I become an adult. I am not a teenager. I’m just a teen boy with the mind of an adult. I’m now 10. Wow that’s a lot right? Get ready. There’s moreeeeeeeee to come.

Going now forward to May 2021. My mom “dies”. Well everything comes back. My grandmother is now in my home, and I’m bouncing around with different homes because my dad is to stressed. My grandmother left after my dad kicking her out for treating us like trash. I was like “🥹” I was so happy I jumped and thought my nightmares were over but oh boy was I wrong. Nothing much happened until September 2021. I got a stomach pain that I had to be hospitalized for 1 month, a new abusive pastor came and plus went back to public school for only 3 weeks. So it was a lot of stress. Plus having to take care of a 10 year old and a 9 year old. It was a lot but what added to that stress was having to go to the temple OR prayers 3-4 times A DAY plus being a local missionary. I was stressed, I was malnourished, I was sleep deprived, I had depression, anxiety, eating disorder, sleeping disorder and was sick. But I still pushed through October of that year my “extended family” started to reveal things only to me. And Plus was receiving death threats and kidnapping threats. I got scared. But continued with my life. The family secrets were so much that I couldn’t even imagine what else was going on. I thought my family was normal but secretive. Turns out no one is biological. Turns out my grandma killed my grandfather. Turns out I part Asian. Turns out my mother had a 2nd family and she abandoned them. Turns out my dad is addicted to gambling, going out with women and smoking. Some nights I would be alone taking care of my siblings. Sometimes I wouldn’t sleep because I had to go to the temple at 5 am and my dad wouldn’t come back until 3-4 am at night. Sometimes I wouldn’t sleep. The nights my dad wasn’t home and my siblings would be asleep. I would sing hymns and pray for hours on end until my dad came back. I would be mad but I didn’t say anything. That was my life until June 2022. But in December 2021. My extended family started to slowly disown me. They stopped talking to me. And I got threatened that they would take me away from my father. I cried and cried. But though it was normal because it was God testing me.

I know this post is getting long so ima make a part 2 about my story thank you if you read the whole thing!!

Hello I'm new here and need to vent. My name is Sasha (25 F) I will tell you first thing is, my pronoun is it because with all the the trauma I have faced and all the people who are so mean. Love is my main priority when it comes to my everyday life. I have in my whole life been a pathological people pleaser. It was beaten into me as a child but, when I tried to report it to my school they did nothing to help. My mom Karen (45 F) is a person who has gotten pregnant at 15 and before her 16th birthday she gave birth to a baby boy and in seven months and five days he unfortunately passed while she was in school. I will say and this has been my opinion for a while. She never properly healed from it. So when I was fifteen my mom talked to my doctor about birth control and it was prescribed when I was about 15. Karen convinced me that it's to control my cycle. It was only the pills so I occasionally forgot anyways. Then she had enough and put me on the implant for three years. There was this time when I wasn't in a cycle. So my issue was that my body wasn't cooperating that made me panic. I went to Karen and said my concerns. All she said was" all that matters is that I'm not pregnant." That's when I found out the real reason why I got it done. I had been gaining weight the doctors believed it was from the implant. So it got taken out and I wasn't forced into it. I will say She was twenty three when she had me. So let me say I have never had any children and I'm glad because I can barely take care of my mental health. I am sorry I will write more but I'm a major Swiftie and I'm exhausted. Good night everyone I hope y'all have an amazing night with beautiful dreams and wake up refreshed to tackle another day

For context I am going to therapy tomorrow with a completely new therapist and I'm kinda scared, I haven't been to much therapy for my childhood trauma and i only had one therapist I talked to who I only saw for a few weeks. I'm afraid I'll be judged about my childhood or slip up and say the wrong thing or forget to say something important. I'm a little clueless in this aspect and don't have much experience or knowledge about this so if there's any tips or things i should know please tell me.

When I was about 12 / 13 years old, I went to the swimming pool with a younger friend, around 10 years old. We were lining up at the slide and he went down so I was by myself at the start of the slide for a bit. There were maybe 2 other kids behind me, also around 10 years old. I was focusing on the timing for me to ride the slide without bumping into my friend so I wasn't paying much attention to the kids behind me. Then, suddenly I felt a warm liquid passing over my shoulder. The 10 year old kid behind me had a grin on his face as he was peeing on me. I was really angry and was shouting at the kid as I went down the slide but didn't end up doing much about it. Thinking back about it now, I get really angry about it. What would of have been the best thing to do at the time? I feel like I should of have at least punched him or something to remove that fucking smile from his face.

Not sure if this is the right subreddit by the way, sorry if so. Also, English is not my first language.

I felt the need to lie as a child to protect myself from harsh punishment. This is a hard habit to break and it is getting me in trouble. Others do not trust me.

Hi redditors. I have come to ask for unbiased opinions/advice on how to deal with my (39F) mother (59F.)

Do I give her a second chance? Here is the backstory. It’s a long one…

TRIGGER WARNINGS Mentions of domestic abuse, child abuse, sexual abuse, and murder.

I had a very traumatic childhood. My parents were high school sweethearts and had my younger brother (37M) and myself very young. When we were 5 and 3, our father (27M) was murdered. At that time, our parents were no longer together, and my mom had even married and had a 3 month old baby (now 34F) with our step-father. But the death of my dad still effected her tremendously. He was her first love and the father of her children, after all. And my step-dad did not like that… he turned out to be a very abusive man. I would say I received the least of his wrath. I was a very quiet and timid little girl. But my brother looked just like our dad, and my step-dad hated him. He would come home from school and get pushed into a wall the moment he walked through the door. And my mother… she was truly a battered woman, and I saw things no child should ever have to see. On one of the worst nights, she tried to get me out the back door to run to the neighbors for help/police. But he got to the door at the last minute and wouldn’t let me leave. I then watched him drag my mother by the hair out the front door and up the sidewalk. I don’t remember much else from that night other than her being a bloody mess when I next saw her.

Despite all this, and threats on her life as well as mine and my brothers, she stayed with him for a few more years and gave birth to another child (now 33M) before she had the courage to divorce him.

So the summarize/catch up, my mother has four children. My brother and I with our father who was murdered when we were 3 and 5, and then our younger sister and brother with our abusive step-dad, who she divorced.

Fast forward to 2010. All us kids are grown. (25, 23, 20, 19.) And guess what happened to my step-dad! Seriously…. He was murdered. So at this time, my mother has four kids from two fathers, and both men have been murdered. (Spoiler: it wasn’t her.)

And at this time I also have a second step-dad, but he and my mother have been married since my two younger siblings were still very young children. And he’s been very good to her.

Fast forward again to 2014: my step-dad(2) gets stage 4 brain cancer. It’s aggressive. And it takes him fast. He passed away at age 49 and had been married to my mom for 17 years.

At this point in her life, my mom is 48, newly widowed, and after a life time of trauma herself (sexual abuse by her own father as a young child, two miscarriages before I was born, years of domestic abuse with my first step-dad, anxiety, depression, poverty) she has developed an addiction to prescription drugs, is a compulsive liar, and she is not a person I care to associate with. (I’ll explain more in a minute.) But I still try to be there for her.

In 2017, my mom is 52, and she’s been dating someone new. Let’s call him Bill. I don’t care for Bill. He’s abusive, just like my first step-dad. He beats my mom up severely, several times. She is rushed to the hospital via ambulance more than once, and is admitted. Once even on Christmas Eve (2016.)

But in 2017, my mom killed Bill.

She had this whole elaborate story of self defense. How he kicked in the door, beat her, sexually assaulted her, etc. But it was all lies. And after 8 months of investigation, she was arrested for murder.

Let’s be clear. Bill was a BAD DUDE. But via deleted text messages retrieved by the cops, she texted him that night begging him to come over. And the coroner determined Bill had been sleeping when he was shot through the chest.

It was not self defense. It was premeditated.

In 2018, she took a plea bargain for voluntary manslaughter and was sentenced to 17 years in prison.

She maintains she was in fear of her life and was convinced that Bill would eventually kill her if she didn’t kill him. (There was evidence via letters from Bill threatening to kill her.)

The aforementioned traumas plus the abuse my mom suffered from Bill were considered in her sentencing.

At the time of her arrest, I had not spoken to my mother in about two years. Factors in this include the traumatic childhood she gave me, calling CPS on me when my own two children were 5 years and a 7 month old baby just because she was MAD, and forcing my daughter to (10 at the time) to take photos of her in a bikini and shorts with the intent to send them to her boyfriend. As a mother, I was livid because I felt she was showing my young impressionable daughter that it was okay to send inappropriate pictures to boys. And then I was even more livid when my daughter asked me, “mom, did I do something bad? Are they (CPS) going to take me away?” That is when I realized how traumatic the CPS investigation had been for her five years prior, and that was caused by my mother. (The investigation was closed btw with no violations found, and we never heard from them again. However, my daughter has never forgotten, and even at 17, she still had this irrational fear that someone could take her away.) That was the day I had my last straw, and I haven’t spoken to my mother since.

Anyway, my mom has now served 6 1/2 years in prison, and there is a very highly likely chance that she will be getting an early release in the next few weeks. And I have no idea how to feel about it.

My mom, (now 59F) is very excited. My grandma (76F) is also excited. (My mom is her only daughter.) And I LOVE my grandma. I talked to her every day. I see her most days. And my mom will live with her upon release from prison. So you see my predicament. To continue a relationship with my grandma, I will come into contact with my mother.

I think at the very least, I need to have a very long and honest conversation with her.

Does she deserve my forgiveness? What would you do in my situation?

(If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading.)

I(13F) am absolutly terrified of adults. My whole life, every single adult has hurt me in a way that I remember it every time I see them. I dont feel safe around anyone. My parents, teachers, and other "guardians" are all liars. They love-bomb me, deny my worries about genuine mental issues, and one teacher even encouraged me to commit suicide when i was 6. I dont want to grow up and hurt my kids, but i feel like i would end up doing it if because of the way they treated me.

Sorry for the aggressive title. Just have to get this off my chest.

I, a 28 year old woman, have been in and out of trauma therapy for most of my life, in large part due to the fact that I have a really hard time with life. For as long as I can remember I've been suffering, dragging this lifeless corpse of a body around step by step, half wondering when it will finally give out and half hoping it happens soon. I am always angry, always, and people can tell, so they stay away from me. I'm sort of glad for that for their sake, but I also kind of want someone to see my suffering and give me a hug. I realize this is all making me sound like a melodramatic teenager, but there's a reason I'm like this. I just can't remember it, because I'm missing huge chunks of time from my childhood that I can't remember. (Well, until recently.)

My therapist said that if I could regain my memories and trauma, I could talk about them and process them, and then I would start to feel better. So we did the work to start to bring me back to my childhood, the parts that my own brain has kept hidden from me for so long.

I remember now. I remember the incestuous sexual abuse, the rapings, the beatings, fighting for my life against grown ass adults, watching people I love die in front of me, hysterically crying myself to sleep clinging to the bloodied corpse of my brother until the police came.

See, now I remember all of it, and I'm talking to this fucking useless therapist about all of it, and all she does is nod and ask how I'm feeling about it. I'm doing what she told me to do, I've remembered and I'm talking about it now, and it's all hanging in the air between us, and it was supposed to ease the tension within me but it didn't, it only made everything worse. I'm so angry I want to scream until I lose my voice, I want to lash out and cause pain, I want to rip things apart. All of my trauma is back now and I can't get rid of it, it's fucking everywhere - their fingerprints are burned underneath my skin, little centipedes of memories crawling in my brain, and I can't get rid of it. It doesn't wash out. I did what she told me to do, and it won't go away.

Fuck therapy. Fuck that fucking cunt for forcing me to remember and then doing fuck all with the aftermath. I wish I would have never agreed to any of it. I wish I could go back and forget it all again.

1. Smoked weed around me as a baby to the point I got shaky when I was away from the smoke

2. Smoked cigarettes around me a lot despite the fact I have asthma

3. Constantly yelled at me when I made her mad even in the slightest

4. Wrestled my grandpa in front of me and beat him up on Halloween, then called me a traitor for not wanting to go home with her

5. Smacked me on the face as a child

6. Slapped my butt hard as punishment for doing something wrong

7. Brushed my hair really hard to the point my face was all red with how hard she pulled at it

8. Argued loudly in front of me to the point she was screaming and kept me up at night

9. Got naked in front of me and said I should be comfortable being naked around her despite the fact I wasn't and told her that multiple times

10. Constantly broke things around me when angry

11. Vented to me about her issues like I could help her

12. Told me I was the only reason she was alive and said she'd kill herself if I left her

13. Told me she'd kill herself whenever I made her even slightly upset

14. Got mad at me when I told her to stop touching me so much or when she embarrassed me in front of others

15. Brought me her friend's house during Halloween which was full of drunk people and kept me there the entire night, not letting me go trick-or-treating

16. Got mad if I reminded her how we didn't have a lot to eat/drink

17. Passed out and wouldn't make me food to eat because she was unconscious

18. Pitted me against her ex-boyfriend and made us verbally fight all the time

19. Called me obese and retarded

20. Did things that made me uncomfortable even when she knew it made me uncomfortable

21. Left me a suicide note and her necklace when I was 13 when in reality she was just out drinking

22. Told me to lie to other family, friends and CPS about her drinking habits

23. Was physically rough with me and pushed me/dragged me around everywhere

24. When I didn't want to do dishes, she'd guilt-trip me by telling me how she used to get beat by my grandpa when she didn't do dishes.

25. Pitted me against family and others she disliked even if I liked those people myself

26. Constantly trauma-dumped to me even if I didn't ask to hear it

27. Drove with me drunk and nearly got into multiple car crashes, continuing to get mad at me when u stopped her from veering off the road. She'd also say "did you die" whenever I told her how scared I was after a drive

28. Got jealous when I hung out with others more than her

29. When she saw my self-harm cuts, she stabbed a knife into the table and told me to "cut it out"

30. Took my forms of communication and fun away if I ever did anything even slightly wrong

31. When I threw away her alcohol once, she chased me into the house and said she'd rip my arms off. I called 911 and when police came she told them I must have misheard her cause of my autism, and when they left she smashed my phone so I couldn't call anyone

32. Bluffed that she was joining the army just to get a reaction from me

33. Followed me around with my ex-boyfriend's mom when we tried getting away from her

34. Called me a psycho when I told her I was in love with a girl and screamed at me for the next week about it

35. Said I wasn't bisexual and that I must be confused

36. Said that she wanted me to have kids so she could be a grandma despite the fact I told her i didnt want any kids

37. Got mad if I didn't try interacting with her or stayed away from her

38. Said if I ever identified as trans that she'd allow it but she'd be very disappointed in me

39. Openly told me I was a mistake and that she wanted a boy and not a girl

40. When I told her I wanted to die, she got mad and pointed out all the ways I could kill myself and dared me to do it

41. Got me placed in multiple group homes because she wouldn't stop drinking and no one else could take care of me

42. Didn't come to my assemblies because she was too drunk and constantly forgot to go to things she agreed to go to

43. Openly told everyone I was autistic despite me telling her not to because it embarrassed me

44. Hid her heroin needles in my nightstand so her ex-boyfriend wouldn't find it.

45. Openly told me she overdosed and died but came back to life

46. Forgot to pick me up from school

47. Left me home alone at a young age for entire days so she could stay out drinking

First time posting here. I work a lot and try to provide for my family. I’m a M (31) with my wife F(31) no children besides for babies. My wife lets me vent about my trauma but it gets hard because I don’t want to trauma dump on her.

My father was a drunk who beat and cheated on my mother constantly. Which I later found out she was a cheater too but never resorted to what my father would do to her. He never touched me or my sister but would do horrible things to my mom in front of us.

Eventually she left and started dating a man who a lot younger than her. He was barely 23. I was 5 and my sister was 3. At first he seemed a great guy. Worked hard and provided, bought me really nice toys and gaming systems. This didn’t last long though.

He liked to poke fun at me. I was a really sensitive kid at 5 and would cry a lot. Said he needed to toughen me up for the world so he never stopped.

Him and my mother would fight a lot. She cheated on him and he started breaking shit around the house. Mostly landlines and certain arts and crafts mom would make like a dollhouse or a painting. Still they stayed together because my mom was pregnant with my little brother.

The first time he hit me was when we were wrestling and I bit him. Apparently I was a biter at 5, not justifying just clarifying. He was pissed and slapped the hell out of me and jabbed his finger in my face while spit flew from his mouth. He and mom fought about it and I never bit anyone again.

As I got older I started poking fun back at my stepfather. My mom made a passing joke that his genitals were small and I latched onto at 7. Whenever he would make fun of me I would tell him he was lacking certain areas.

He didn’t like that at all. I made a comment one day and he snatched by collar and started slapping me over and over again until he got tired.

That was the least of it though. Later that day he made me come into the bathroom with him. I thought it was fine because mom was there. They both made me look at his penis. Laughing as if it were a funny joke. I was so uncomfortable and never made a joke at his expense again, yet he never stopped.

I got hurt at school one time. Think I sprained my ankle or something. He had to pick me up from school because I couldn’t walk. The entire ride to the hospital he was laughing about how I’m a little bitch and would always be a little bitch. He would stab his finger in my face hard and repeat this over and over again. I believe I was 8 or 9 when this happened. I slapped his hands away… and he started smacking my face . Over and over again until mom came back from doing her makeup and had to pull him off of me.

One time I ate most of the pie from thanksgiving. He really wanted it as leftovers for after work. When he got home he lost his temper and started throwing food on the ground. Making me and my sister eat it.

We started chores as we got older. One of mine was to feed his dog. A huge pit-bull that snarled and like to bite. At 9 I was terrified of it. So much so I put off the task for days at a time. My stepdad didn’t let this go on for long. He pulled me by the hair, dragging me through mud and dog shit, screaming bloody murder at me while the dog barked in my face.

He was huge on embarrassing me. He loved to pull my pants down in public and pour drinks on me if I said something he didn’t like or didn’t fold the clothes fast enough.

The first time we fist fought I was 16.

He wanted me to do dishes but I had enough so I refused. He got in my face and started jabbing that finger in my face and kissing me. That’s right kissing me. It threw me off guard so I pushed him away. He started punching me. First time he hit me closed fisted. I fought back but I’ve never been a fighter. He got the better of me. Pinned down by him I couldn’t get up. He started kissing and licking me more. Mom had called the cops. They separated us and took me to my Grandmas for a few days.

I have no idea what was said to the cops but eventually I had to go back. I was reluctant but I missed my high schools friends and my bed my video games ect.

My mom sat me down and said I need to listen more. She told me I was lucky for it being so easy and she would never leave my stepdad. My step dad apologized like he always did after he snapped.

Things got so much worse.

He would kiss me sometimes and call me his little bitch. Hurt my pride more than anything, but sometimes I would snap and run away. I would always return or be forced to return myself. Every time I came home I would get a beating of some kind.

One time he started bashing my head against the dryer. Another he slammed my head into door. One time he smashed my face into the floor with his boot.

Most if not all of this was done in front of my siblings and mom. 4 in total with me being the oldest.

Eventually I was an adult and left. I did a couple years of college but dropped out and eventually joined the work force. I stayed far away from my family. Occasionally phone calls to mom and my siblings but that was it.

I never talked to my step dad.

I love my family and family gatherings like cookouts and dinners. I soon realized however that my stepdad wasn’t going anywhere so if wanted to stay close I had to deal with him.

The physical abuse stopped but the jabs and jokes never stopped. For the most part I ignored it. I had to if I wanted to be close to my family.

My mom and him eventually divorced. She started cheating again. My siblings were very upset at my mom. To them my step dad was at no fault. To me I was heartbroken that it took my mom finding another man to leave him…

I told her about this with tears in my eyes asking her why she could let him do those things to me. She told me that she got it much worse and she didn’t want to be a single mom with 4 kids.

I still talked to her on occasion but I have lost all respect for her.

My siblings acknowledged the abuse but said I was a difficult child to raise so it had to be none

I’ve been very alone in this burden for a long time and I still struggle with nightmares and flashbacks. Not to mention bouts of anger that scare me. I’m proud I keep it under control but it scares me.

It took me finding my wife to cut everyone off. She’s a black woman and my stepfather didn’t like that very much. He made a joke about it and I told him to go fuck himself. That was 2 years ago and I haven’t talked to him since.

I know I prolonged my suffer by trying to remain close with my family but that is done with. I cut everyone mostly off. I’m in therapy now trying to work through my issues and learn better coping skills.

Thank you.

Sorry about any grammar mistakes.

(TW: abuse, nsfw)

Firstly, english is not my first language so I'm sorry for any grammer/spelling mistakes. Recently I've been thinking about some things that happened between me and my dad when I was younger and I feel like it may have affected me more than I thought it did. Althouh I'm not sure if it was really bad enough to have trauma from and I don't really feel comfortable talking with anyone irl about it, so here we are.

When I was about 5 or 6 years old, my father threatened to hit me. It wasn't often, only two or three times qnd only once explicitly. Mostly it was stuff long the lines of "If I had done this, my dad would have done that.". But once (at least once that I remember), it was explicit. I remember it very vividly, his exact words were: "If you don't get ready for bed right now, I'll spank your ass.". I did what he said after that. I don't know if he would have gone through with it if I hadn't.

I know this dosen't even compare in the slightest to the shit other people go through with their parents, but I've noticed some things about myself that I think might be related to this. First of all I feel very attracted to the thing he threatened me with (sorry, I don't want to spell it out again). I'm obviously aware that that's a very normal thing but what I find concerning is that for me it started at 10 years old which I feel like isn't a very normal age to start having feelings like that. At about the same time I also started feeling very into ddlg. This next one I know is very clichè, but I'm attracted to older men, especially ones who are known to be good fathers like for example David Tennant while I also kind of wanting them to be my dad. But I don't know how weird/unusual that is. Another thing I've noticed is that I'm always extremely tense and irritable around him. This isn't just puberty either, if it was I'd feel that way with literally anyone else. It's at a point where every time we're in the same room I feel like leaving immediantly and every time he talks to me, I get extremely annoyed and snappy.

So yeah, I'm probably just beeing dramatic, but I need some second opinions on this. Thanks in advance.