Carlyle
April 11th, 2013, 11:23 PM
Ugh, my mind is a mess and I have no fucking clue why.
Anyone who knows me knows I was abused as a child.. My parents got divorced when I was 4 or 5, and I had to live with my father's girlfriend since he drove truck for a living (I obviously needed to get an education, forcing me into the situation).
It was okay for a few months.. but then, I found the truth of things. She had a fucking drug problem, was cheating on my father, and her son was nearly identical.
I lived 4-5 years of my life, terrified of what would happen. I would have bruises that I had to hide. I'd always wear long clothing to school, and if anyone saw, I had to make up an excuse.
Literally, the worst was when I told her son to go away, and I hit him. I didn't mean to, but he was in my face and wouldn't stop teasing me.. She flew across the rim and decked me. I screamed bloody murder, and my eye started to swell up. She was yelling at me, and I felt worthless. She punched me a few more times.. no matter how much I begged for her to stop, she didn't. She punched me until I had bruises all over.. I was about 7, so I was finally smart enough to know it was wrong.. Her mother came down and saw what had happened - she helped clean up the blood and got me an ice pack. I wouldn't stop crying the whole time, I didn't know how much longer I could deal with living like that.
I finally called my dad and told him.. I cried more when he refused to believe me, saying I was "just upset because I was being punished".
I couldn't move for 2 days - I had to stay home from school, telling them I was sick with a touch of the flu.
I could live with that all though, if it wasn't for the lies.. Whenever my birthday rolled around, or a holiday like Christmas, I was excited. I was always hoping my mom was thinking of me, and maybe I'd be lucky enough to get a gift. Nothing ever came though.. I found out within the past couple years that she did send money for my brother and I, she wanted us to pick out whatever toys or clothes we wanted.. But my father's ex would lie, and go and spend the money on more drugs and tattoos.
I was so mean to my mother, always upset with her for never giving me a gift. Thinking back, I wish I could apologize to her for being such a brat.. I treated her like shit whenever I DID see her.. My one break away from the living hell and I was too blind to see the truth.
It took until I was starting 3rd grade (I would've been around 8? I think..). I was at my grandmothers and she was helping me take a bath. I tried to hide the bruises, but as soon as she saw them she screamed. She wasn't mad at me, she fucking called my dad's ex and threatened her. She said "If I ever see you near these boys again, I will fucking hurt you. I may be old, but don't test me. They deserve better than this". My dad was away at a friends for the weekend. When they got a call from the social worker, he was pissed, thinking they said he couldn't see us.. He had to come up to PA where we were, before they explained what was going on..
It still took a few months before we left.. One night, I want to say around the middle of March.. My dad woke me up at 10 (I had just gone to bed). He said to just gather what I needed (which ended up being a bag of clothes + some of my diabetes supplies) and get out to the car. Nobody knew we were leaving..
It took about 11 hours of driving, but we made it to my mother's house.. I cried and hugged her, and I refused to let go or stop saying sorry for so long. I was so happy, and I still am to live with her..
I still wish I could find a way to apologize to her for all the mean things I said..
I mostly needed this off my chest, my mind feels like its going to explode.. This is why I try not to think, my mind becomes such a fucking mess. What's wrong with me..
Anyone who knows me knows I was abused as a child.. My parents got divorced when I was 4 or 5, and I had to live with my father's girlfriend since he drove truck for a living (I obviously needed to get an education, forcing me into the situation).
It was okay for a few months.. but then, I found the truth of things. She had a fucking drug problem, was cheating on my father, and her son was nearly identical.
I lived 4-5 years of my life, terrified of what would happen. I would have bruises that I had to hide. I'd always wear long clothing to school, and if anyone saw, I had to make up an excuse.
Literally, the worst was when I told her son to go away, and I hit him. I didn't mean to, but he was in my face and wouldn't stop teasing me.. She flew across the rim and decked me. I screamed bloody murder, and my eye started to swell up. She was yelling at me, and I felt worthless. She punched me a few more times.. no matter how much I begged for her to stop, she didn't. She punched me until I had bruises all over.. I was about 7, so I was finally smart enough to know it was wrong.. Her mother came down and saw what had happened - she helped clean up the blood and got me an ice pack. I wouldn't stop crying the whole time, I didn't know how much longer I could deal with living like that.
I finally called my dad and told him.. I cried more when he refused to believe me, saying I was "just upset because I was being punished".
I couldn't move for 2 days - I had to stay home from school, telling them I was sick with a touch of the flu.
I could live with that all though, if it wasn't for the lies.. Whenever my birthday rolled around, or a holiday like Christmas, I was excited. I was always hoping my mom was thinking of me, and maybe I'd be lucky enough to get a gift. Nothing ever came though.. I found out within the past couple years that she did send money for my brother and I, she wanted us to pick out whatever toys or clothes we wanted.. But my father's ex would lie, and go and spend the money on more drugs and tattoos.
I was so mean to my mother, always upset with her for never giving me a gift. Thinking back, I wish I could apologize to her for being such a brat.. I treated her like shit whenever I DID see her.. My one break away from the living hell and I was too blind to see the truth.
It took until I was starting 3rd grade (I would've been around 8? I think..). I was at my grandmothers and she was helping me take a bath. I tried to hide the bruises, but as soon as she saw them she screamed. She wasn't mad at me, she fucking called my dad's ex and threatened her. She said "If I ever see you near these boys again, I will fucking hurt you. I may be old, but don't test me. They deserve better than this". My dad was away at a friends for the weekend. When they got a call from the social worker, he was pissed, thinking they said he couldn't see us.. He had to come up to PA where we were, before they explained what was going on..
It still took a few months before we left.. One night, I want to say around the middle of March.. My dad woke me up at 10 (I had just gone to bed). He said to just gather what I needed (which ended up being a bag of clothes + some of my diabetes supplies) and get out to the car. Nobody knew we were leaving..
It took about 11 hours of driving, but we made it to my mother's house.. I cried and hugged her, and I refused to let go or stop saying sorry for so long. I was so happy, and I still am to live with her..
I still wish I could find a way to apologize to her for all the mean things I said..
I mostly needed this off my chest, my mind feels like its going to explode.. This is why I try not to think, my mind becomes such a fucking mess. What's wrong with me..