W
whoknows
i grew up with 4 siblings and a single mum, i was the 4th born child. we grew up quite poor, but became more and more financially stable as we grew up. my mum wasn't always single, our biological dad stayed with us until my mum left him when i was around 4, he abused her. as well as the physical harm he caused her, he drained her too but she kept fighting until she was strong enough to leave. she went out one day and decided she wouldn't come back to get us until she found us a home. she was homeless for 3 days. i guess you could say she wasn't properly homeless because she technically had a home to come back to. she got assigned homeless housing and came back and took us, she made sure we were always happy and always going out and living life comfortably.
life moved on and when i was 6, she found someone else, he seemed like a good man and he was of the same nationality as us although we stayed in the UK, it felt good. until it took a turn and he moved in with us after 7 months, we lived in a new place now, my mum was renting, life had gotten better. they got married at the office soon after and he became my step-dad. it got weird just after summer began, he wouldn't let me or my younger sister who was 5 call him anything but daddy. my sister had only fully known him as a dad so she was willing but i wasn't as trusting, my first male role model left me young and till this new step-dad i hadn't had a dad, my mum was both my mother and my father figure, all i needed. so because i refused to call him by his nickname, when my mum was at work, he'd punish me by what i think now was some form of SA, i'm not sure if this is normal or not, and i don't want to make the accusation myself but he would lay me over his lap, pull any clothing of me and slap me. after he would just make me lay there until he was done watching the tv, because my siblings were out of the house more, it was just me him and my little sister, to punish us, he'd make us stand naked in a corner. exposed. embarrassed. my mum to this day still doesn't know what happened when shed leave the house. it wasn't just sexual. he'd slap us, me, my little sister and older brother who was 9, punch us, make us cook for him, clean for him. turns out he was abusing my mum too, so after a lot of struggle, she divorced him, kicked him out. he left easier.
i didn't understand the severity of my abuse until years later, so i kept in contact with him. i stopped calling him daddy after i turned 11. nobody else called their dads that, it was embarrassing and i didn't like doing it. we had a huge argument. i still haven't spoken to him since, a couple years later, he was taken to court after a rape allegation, he fled shortly before that, back to our home country now he's married again, they got married they day of my little sisters birthday, and had the f*cking audacity to invite us.
again life moved on. when i was 10, my mum got a mortgage, we packed up everything and moved. she picked up a second job to keep things afloat and with that she met her boyfriend. he is lovely, the nicest, most trusting man i have ever met. he was my dad. the only person ill ever recognise as one. with everything that happened to us, i got quieter and my siblings got louder and more arrogant. i was always smart growing up and i decided young that i didn't want this life for myself when i got older, so i put my head down and made better plans for the future. he would come home after a night at work with my mum and id be reading book and he'd sit me up on the kitchen counter while he made his rice and chicken in the microwave and let me talk about it. he was the only one i ever told about my books. everyone else thought i was weird. he knew what happened with my step-dad (not our SA, nobody knows about our SA) and he never forced a title on me. even when i finally decided to call him dad on my 12th birthday, he told me to take my time, and he'd be here forever. too never feel like i had to call him anything. during this time him and my mum had two baby's, a boy and girl. he still seen the wrong in our family dynamic. it had always been us 4 girls and my brother, my mums boy. he seen that my brother got treated differently than the rest of us and tried to stop it. One day, he got mad, very mad and shoved my brother who was 14, his hands landed on his face and collarbone and to my brother it must've seemed like a punch. when my brother told my mum, my mum got worried, thought it was happening AGAIN and broke up with him. My dad left.
once again, life moved on. from there my mum struggled with depression, my 2 oldest sisters, argued with my mum constantly and left at 16 and 19. i had nobody. i struggled, i kept in touch with my dad and it started to get worse from my 14th birthday, my older brother struggled with addiction, on halloween that year he got so drunk and high, he tried to kill himself, thinking someone was coming after him, i wasn't allowed to see him in hospital, i had to wait at home. it came out that my little sister started self harming, running away every couple of days, she got abusive very, it got worse and worse each day, she used to hide the knives in her room and threaten to kill us all in our sleep, i was in the room across from her, 3 steps and id be dead. i slept on the sofa downstairs those nights. my mother was hospitalized, she was diagnosed with functional neurological disorder, anxiety, depression and ADHD. both my brothers diagnosed with autism, my younger sister with ADHD and autism and still undergoing assessments, my baby sister with ADHD and my big sisters are who knows where. i'm completely 'normal', and i'm tired.
still life moves on. im sitting exams this year. still with dreams of 9 A's to get out, i found a love of football, i keep that close to me, but i want to be numb, i don't want to feel, i'm tired of feeling. it hurts to think about what my life turned out as, and writing this has taken a huge toll on me. i don't know whats wrong with me. i don't want to die, and i don't want to commit suicide. but i just want to not feel, how do i take it all away, the last time i told my mum about my hurt, she told me 'its not my pain to feel, i shouldn't be grieving'. is that true? am i a bad person for feeling their pain? it seems like no matter what i do i keep letting people down, the thought of how much better everyone else's lives would be without be keep floating through my mind i want them to go away. i'm not looking for some diagnosis with a ridiculously long name, i just want a cure. i want to feel pure happiness even though i'm not wholly convinced it exists. if your still reading, thank you, for listening to my story even if you don't have any answers for me, thank you.
"to be fully seen by somebody, then, and still be loved anyhow- this is a human offering that can border miraculous"
life moved on and when i was 6, she found someone else, he seemed like a good man and he was of the same nationality as us although we stayed in the UK, it felt good. until it took a turn and he moved in with us after 7 months, we lived in a new place now, my mum was renting, life had gotten better. they got married at the office soon after and he became my step-dad. it got weird just after summer began, he wouldn't let me or my younger sister who was 5 call him anything but daddy. my sister had only fully known him as a dad so she was willing but i wasn't as trusting, my first male role model left me young and till this new step-dad i hadn't had a dad, my mum was both my mother and my father figure, all i needed. so because i refused to call him by his nickname, when my mum was at work, he'd punish me by what i think now was some form of SA, i'm not sure if this is normal or not, and i don't want to make the accusation myself but he would lay me over his lap, pull any clothing of me and slap me. after he would just make me lay there until he was done watching the tv, because my siblings were out of the house more, it was just me him and my little sister, to punish us, he'd make us stand naked in a corner. exposed. embarrassed. my mum to this day still doesn't know what happened when shed leave the house. it wasn't just sexual. he'd slap us, me, my little sister and older brother who was 9, punch us, make us cook for him, clean for him. turns out he was abusing my mum too, so after a lot of struggle, she divorced him, kicked him out. he left easier.
i didn't understand the severity of my abuse until years later, so i kept in contact with him. i stopped calling him daddy after i turned 11. nobody else called their dads that, it was embarrassing and i didn't like doing it. we had a huge argument. i still haven't spoken to him since, a couple years later, he was taken to court after a rape allegation, he fled shortly before that, back to our home country now he's married again, they got married they day of my little sisters birthday, and had the f*cking audacity to invite us.
again life moved on. when i was 10, my mum got a mortgage, we packed up everything and moved. she picked up a second job to keep things afloat and with that she met her boyfriend. he is lovely, the nicest, most trusting man i have ever met. he was my dad. the only person ill ever recognise as one. with everything that happened to us, i got quieter and my siblings got louder and more arrogant. i was always smart growing up and i decided young that i didn't want this life for myself when i got older, so i put my head down and made better plans for the future. he would come home after a night at work with my mum and id be reading book and he'd sit me up on the kitchen counter while he made his rice and chicken in the microwave and let me talk about it. he was the only one i ever told about my books. everyone else thought i was weird. he knew what happened with my step-dad (not our SA, nobody knows about our SA) and he never forced a title on me. even when i finally decided to call him dad on my 12th birthday, he told me to take my time, and he'd be here forever. too never feel like i had to call him anything. during this time him and my mum had two baby's, a boy and girl. he still seen the wrong in our family dynamic. it had always been us 4 girls and my brother, my mums boy. he seen that my brother got treated differently than the rest of us and tried to stop it. One day, he got mad, very mad and shoved my brother who was 14, his hands landed on his face and collarbone and to my brother it must've seemed like a punch. when my brother told my mum, my mum got worried, thought it was happening AGAIN and broke up with him. My dad left.
once again, life moved on. from there my mum struggled with depression, my 2 oldest sisters, argued with my mum constantly and left at 16 and 19. i had nobody. i struggled, i kept in touch with my dad and it started to get worse from my 14th birthday, my older brother struggled with addiction, on halloween that year he got so drunk and high, he tried to kill himself, thinking someone was coming after him, i wasn't allowed to see him in hospital, i had to wait at home. it came out that my little sister started self harming, running away every couple of days, she got abusive very, it got worse and worse each day, she used to hide the knives in her room and threaten to kill us all in our sleep, i was in the room across from her, 3 steps and id be dead. i slept on the sofa downstairs those nights. my mother was hospitalized, she was diagnosed with functional neurological disorder, anxiety, depression and ADHD. both my brothers diagnosed with autism, my younger sister with ADHD and autism and still undergoing assessments, my baby sister with ADHD and my big sisters are who knows where. i'm completely 'normal', and i'm tired.
still life moves on. im sitting exams this year. still with dreams of 9 A's to get out, i found a love of football, i keep that close to me, but i want to be numb, i don't want to feel, i'm tired of feeling. it hurts to think about what my life turned out as, and writing this has taken a huge toll on me. i don't know whats wrong with me. i don't want to die, and i don't want to commit suicide. but i just want to not feel, how do i take it all away, the last time i told my mum about my hurt, she told me 'its not my pain to feel, i shouldn't be grieving'. is that true? am i a bad person for feeling their pain? it seems like no matter what i do i keep letting people down, the thought of how much better everyone else's lives would be without be keep floating through my mind i want them to go away. i'm not looking for some diagnosis with a ridiculously long name, i just want a cure. i want to feel pure happiness even though i'm not wholly convinced it exists. if your still reading, thank you, for listening to my story even if you don't have any answers for me, thank you.
"to be fully seen by somebody, then, and still be loved anyhow- this is a human offering that can border miraculous"
