Show Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.

Topics - Skate

Pages: [1]
Physical Abuse / Life is a Mirror
« on: April 04, 2022, 12:57:39 AM »

TW Physical Abuse

I was raise by my mother. I have a brother one year older than me. We would visit my maternal grandmother on Sundays. My mother didn't like me because firstly I was a girl and secondly I look so much like my father. Nor did she like my tomboyish, fun personality.

Now I was well fed, educated, my birthdays were celebrated and I enjoyed treats such as holidays. There were no men allowed in the home, no drinking, smoking or drugs. So far so good.

At the age of four one day my mother slapped me hard across the face. That was the beginning. After that she would find reasons, always hitting in my face, hard. She would drag me across the floor by the hair, stuff my mouth with food and slap me while I was eating, make me stand in the dark, freeze me out by have everyone ignore me. Make me lower my eyes and not look at her, stand with my chin up so she could get a good swing at me. No kisses, cuddles, eye contact, conversation. I was unkempt, unclean. She said I was born with worms and had black eyes and a bad nature. She said I was like a man.

My brother was watching and learning. He would kick me so hard between the legs that I couldn't breath, punch me in the face in public, wake me up to slap me across the face and dare me to do something about it. Throw a bucket of water over me indoors, sit with his feet on me, twist my arm up my back, give me a kicking until he got tired. Call me every single filthy disgusting name all day every day. Ridicule every part of my body, everything i said and everything I did. Told me to kill myself.

As his behaviour worsened over the years so did my mother's. She would say 'He's my son.' Slap me across the face again when I tried to tell her about him. Attack me and tell him to 'help her' drag me outside. Make me sleep in the hall or outside. Told him 'You can do whatever you like to her.'

My grandmother? She loathed me, told me I was going to * forever, left me out, called me names, played mind games She was repulsed by me, laughed at me.They all laughed at me.

And I laughed along.

I hated myself, was repulsed by myself, loathed myself, my voice, my body, my reflection. I decided to sacrifice myself in their honour. I would live my life making them happy, whatever it took I didn't care. I would fix them all and that would be my life's work.

I never did manage to fix them or make them happy. But I did instead attract broken men, cruel men, evil men.

And now I live with the guilt of what my children experienced. I am also left with a shell of a body that feels nothing. I have never felt like I deserved to say 'I' or 'me'.

I realise now that life is a mirror. In trying to fix broken people I was really to fix myself. The irony is that I was not broken to begin with. And in a way nor were they. They were just doing things that made them feel better.

Pages: [1]