i am tired of the crapfest
Posted: April 19th, 2013, 4:04 am
I know life is supposed to suck part of the time but all of the time? It seems like my life is just one big crapfest after another.
Its like i have a sign on my head that says abuse me she will survive anything. Anything you do to her she just takes it.
To begin with my sexual abuse probably statred when i first came out of the womb. When my mother found blood in my diaper and not even a month out of her womb. I however remember it from the time i was two until i was around 15. It was perpentraded by my father. Around the time i was seven or so my brother who was 7 years older dared me to suck his dick. Later around the same time i got him into trouble and he brutally raped me. An uncle also tried to get into my pants but he was old and weak and i wasnt a child anymore so i won.
My parents were old when they had me so i was thier little accident and that was very much known to me. Although my mother unknowingly protected me from my father she was no saint in the parenthood department. She has beat me and has left bruises on before. When i told her about the abuse once she called me a liar and beat me for days over it. She always threatened when she was upset that she was going to run away and never come back. Anytime she was late to get me anywhere or my father came i feared she had ran away and was never going to come back for me.
School sucked for me. i was tiny so the kids all made fun of me. Im sure i was this strange thing that never or rarely spoke. Id let them or for the most part they could do what they wanted with me and i couldnt fight back i was too tiny and often times too scared to do anything. I was very very shy. I usually only succeeded in having a friend for the school year. I think after a year i became too strange for them or got too comfortable and would leak out secrets but im really not sure. I know not all kids made ken and barbie have sex.
In 8th grade the vice principal called social services on my parents cause they thought they were starving me. I was very tiny but all doctors claimed i was just fine just tiny. Even after doctor after doctor comfirmed this we still had problems with social services. I dont know if it would have been a good thing to get removed from the home or not. I know i didnt want that because that was my family and it was all i had known, even though by then i knew the abuse was wrong. I didnt want to leave my nephew who was born the spring before i loved him too much. I finally had a friend that i kept longer than a year. (she made her barbies have sex too) This caused legal problems finicial problems, drew a deeper wedge between my parents and also made my father take up drinking. To which he did until he died from it.
My senior year in 98-99 I moved to new school, preppy rich kids to whom from my view point had normal happy lives. My father died around thanksgiving my grandmother died around christmas i was very close to her. After that every holiday after thanksgiving something happened. I learned that cutting myself was a good coping mechanism. The most monumental thing was. we left my 4 year old nephew with his stupid father, who fell asleep when watching him. and my nephew played with matches and burnt up the kitchen and part of our living room. Somehow the blame fell on me. I knew i shouldve resented him from that point on but I loved him so much and was soooooooooooooooo relieved to learn he wasnt hurt at all in the fire. I didnt care if i was blamed for the whole mess.
By june of that year i tried to commit suicide. i was committed to a nut farm for a week, and put on paxil that made me happy to know i was crazy and made me do stupid crazy things. somewhere in there i started having flashbacks and nightmares of all the abuse that i blocked out. it was not good. I still have nightmares every now and then but i know they cant hurt me and it doesnt bother me so much. eventually i dug myself out of that funk. I got a job as a janitor and things were looking a bit better. I met a guy at work. In many ways he was experiment to see what i could handly in the intamacy department. He became my best friend and lover and my first true love. slowly scott became controlling and then emotionally abusive and sometimes sexually and physically abusive. Along my path with him i lost all my friends, I would like to blame it all on him, but alot of it was my own doing and some of his fault by brainwashing me agaisnt them. But mostly my undoing.I left him recently. I know thats the best thing. But when i let the good times slip in it depresses me and i realize what could of been and what was it just hurts to hell and back. Sometime in there i moved from janitorial to retail. On my first day and first hour in my new job a guy came in and demanded my phone number. When i told him i wasnt single he went off to a part of the store that the manager that was hanging around couldnt see him. He got my attention and then started masturbating and staring at me. He might as well just raped me cause i dont think it would have felt much more of a violation. It was like a mental mind rape. I had to go back to janitorial when the company i was working for got bought out and i got fucked over by the new company and my job was pretty much squeezed out. That i figured id have a heartattack if i stayed there.
I got transplanted back to my mothers house. I hate being here. so far i have yet to figure out how to cook anything around here even microwave food. Its either under cooked or over cooked. I feel like a retard. Not only for having to come back here but that i cant cook, and i couldnt keep up the charade anymore with scott. I hate being here. I miss the good times i had with him. I miss having some one to cuddle up to at night and hold me. I miss having my own damn place that i could put things in the house through out the house and not just one room.
I dont what has happened to my mother but i think shes in early signs of alzhiemers. I feel like i am too young to be going through this shit. I thought 18 was too young to lose a parent but i feel like i am too young to be going through this shit with her. She is a semi hoarder. I dont know i cant admit or dont want to see that she IS a hoarder. Its not like those really disgusting houses you see on tv but damn its cluttered with shit we could throw out by the tons. Now i feel like i am slave to her by cleaning all the time i feel like i never get a break from work because i am either cleaning for a living or cleaning this pigstye up. I felt like a slave to scott but i think i was almost better off there. I could at least say i was taking care of us by cleaning things. I feel like im in trap and its suffocating me. I feel like now i will never get back out of here until she dies. Then im afraid she will die i will have no one, i fear she will die and it will be me that finds the body and i have no one to turn to. I dont think i will ever get on with my life until she dies. I want to do things before im too old to care about these things.
I dont think i will find anyone else either, and when i do i fear it will all wind up the same way it did with him.
I am just TIRED of the shitfest I am tired of feeling trapped all the time and that trouble or some crisis follows me everywhere i go. does anyone else seem to have this problem?
Its like i have a sign on my head that says abuse me she will survive anything. Anything you do to her she just takes it.
To begin with my sexual abuse probably statred when i first came out of the womb. When my mother found blood in my diaper and not even a month out of her womb. I however remember it from the time i was two until i was around 15. It was perpentraded by my father. Around the time i was seven or so my brother who was 7 years older dared me to suck his dick. Later around the same time i got him into trouble and he brutally raped me. An uncle also tried to get into my pants but he was old and weak and i wasnt a child anymore so i won.
My parents were old when they had me so i was thier little accident and that was very much known to me. Although my mother unknowingly protected me from my father she was no saint in the parenthood department. She has beat me and has left bruises on before. When i told her about the abuse once she called me a liar and beat me for days over it. She always threatened when she was upset that she was going to run away and never come back. Anytime she was late to get me anywhere or my father came i feared she had ran away and was never going to come back for me.
School sucked for me. i was tiny so the kids all made fun of me. Im sure i was this strange thing that never or rarely spoke. Id let them or for the most part they could do what they wanted with me and i couldnt fight back i was too tiny and often times too scared to do anything. I was very very shy. I usually only succeeded in having a friend for the school year. I think after a year i became too strange for them or got too comfortable and would leak out secrets but im really not sure. I know not all kids made ken and barbie have sex.
In 8th grade the vice principal called social services on my parents cause they thought they were starving me. I was very tiny but all doctors claimed i was just fine just tiny. Even after doctor after doctor comfirmed this we still had problems with social services. I dont know if it would have been a good thing to get removed from the home or not. I know i didnt want that because that was my family and it was all i had known, even though by then i knew the abuse was wrong. I didnt want to leave my nephew who was born the spring before i loved him too much. I finally had a friend that i kept longer than a year. (she made her barbies have sex too) This caused legal problems finicial problems, drew a deeper wedge between my parents and also made my father take up drinking. To which he did until he died from it.
My senior year in 98-99 I moved to new school, preppy rich kids to whom from my view point had normal happy lives. My father died around thanksgiving my grandmother died around christmas i was very close to her. After that every holiday after thanksgiving something happened. I learned that cutting myself was a good coping mechanism. The most monumental thing was. we left my 4 year old nephew with his stupid father, who fell asleep when watching him. and my nephew played with matches and burnt up the kitchen and part of our living room. Somehow the blame fell on me. I knew i shouldve resented him from that point on but I loved him so much and was soooooooooooooooo relieved to learn he wasnt hurt at all in the fire. I didnt care if i was blamed for the whole mess.
By june of that year i tried to commit suicide. i was committed to a nut farm for a week, and put on paxil that made me happy to know i was crazy and made me do stupid crazy things. somewhere in there i started having flashbacks and nightmares of all the abuse that i blocked out. it was not good. I still have nightmares every now and then but i know they cant hurt me and it doesnt bother me so much. eventually i dug myself out of that funk. I got a job as a janitor and things were looking a bit better. I met a guy at work. In many ways he was experiment to see what i could handly in the intamacy department. He became my best friend and lover and my first true love. slowly scott became controlling and then emotionally abusive and sometimes sexually and physically abusive. Along my path with him i lost all my friends, I would like to blame it all on him, but alot of it was my own doing and some of his fault by brainwashing me agaisnt them. But mostly my undoing.I left him recently. I know thats the best thing. But when i let the good times slip in it depresses me and i realize what could of been and what was it just hurts to hell and back. Sometime in there i moved from janitorial to retail. On my first day and first hour in my new job a guy came in and demanded my phone number. When i told him i wasnt single he went off to a part of the store that the manager that was hanging around couldnt see him. He got my attention and then started masturbating and staring at me. He might as well just raped me cause i dont think it would have felt much more of a violation. It was like a mental mind rape. I had to go back to janitorial when the company i was working for got bought out and i got fucked over by the new company and my job was pretty much squeezed out. That i figured id have a heartattack if i stayed there.
I got transplanted back to my mothers house. I hate being here. so far i have yet to figure out how to cook anything around here even microwave food. Its either under cooked or over cooked. I feel like a retard. Not only for having to come back here but that i cant cook, and i couldnt keep up the charade anymore with scott. I hate being here. I miss the good times i had with him. I miss having some one to cuddle up to at night and hold me. I miss having my own damn place that i could put things in the house through out the house and not just one room.
I dont what has happened to my mother but i think shes in early signs of alzhiemers. I feel like i am too young to be going through this shit. I thought 18 was too young to lose a parent but i feel like i am too young to be going through this shit with her. She is a semi hoarder. I dont know i cant admit or dont want to see that she IS a hoarder. Its not like those really disgusting houses you see on tv but damn its cluttered with shit we could throw out by the tons. Now i feel like i am slave to her by cleaning all the time i feel like i never get a break from work because i am either cleaning for a living or cleaning this pigstye up. I felt like a slave to scott but i think i was almost better off there. I could at least say i was taking care of us by cleaning things. I feel like im in trap and its suffocating me. I feel like now i will never get back out of here until she dies. Then im afraid she will die i will have no one, i fear she will die and it will be me that finds the body and i have no one to turn to. I dont think i will ever get on with my life until she dies. I want to do things before im too old to care about these things.
I dont think i will find anyone else either, and when i do i fear it will all wind up the same way it did with him.
I am just TIRED of the shitfest I am tired of feeling trapped all the time and that trouble or some crisis follows me everywhere i go. does anyone else seem to have this problem?