11:38 Jul 01 2020
Times Read: 588
have you ever been tortured? not metaphorically mind you, i mean actually tortured. i have. and its still with me. every day. there are things you can let go of in your past, but some things will always be with you. its like dropping your backpack, but someone else picks it up and stands behind you with it. am i free from the burden if i still have to see it? if i know its there?
i was probably 15 or so. mind you, i had very little. books mostly. thats it. and if youd have asked me where i would rather be, home or school, id say school, but the reality was it wasnt any safer for me there. my abuser worked there. she was very creative in how she did things. she trapped me, played games with me, and her favorite game was gaslighting. and when you combine psychological mind games, with physical abuse, you get diabolical results in a young kid. she use to play a game where if there was no issue or drama, she MADE an issue. for instance, we moved to a new house and i did all i could to help, with moving, and cleaning the new house, repairs, ect. i was quite literally a household slave. but i wanted them to think better of me. and so 2 weeks go by with no problems. so that had to change. pretty soon i come inside and get the shit smacked out of me, both umprompted and uncalled for. she wasnt the kind who slapped you once. when i say she hit me or beat me, im not exaggerating. she used both hands, one, then the other, then the other, back and forth untill she had dazed me. and then she usually grabbed me by the face and began yelling and thats just where the game starts. so now i have "done something wrong" but what did i do? well thats the thing. she doesnt tell me. she tells me to sit and think about it. and when i dont know, i get hit some more. and called a liar. and then i get to hear all about the nice things that they do for me. how greatful i should be, and what a terrible influence i am to everyone. and then back into the questions. why did i say what i did? when i reply that im not sure what i supposedly had said, i got smacked up again. and often times she liked to drop names. (so and so) wouldnt lie to me about what you said. and it was always over something rediculous. in this case? the fucking carpet. there was to be new carpet in my room. and a new coat of paint. i was told i could pick the color, but then anything i picked was " turning her house into a freakshow" but i hadnt actually SAID anything. but she made up a story about me being upset about not getting a particular color of carpet, and beat the shit out of me and played mind games for 6 hours while i sat facing forward at a table. i wasnt allowed to leave the table, nor eat or drink until i had figured out what i had said. and when it was over? i was still the bad guy. i had insulted her somehow and was now grounded. mind you i got slapped several more times. oh and anything i had possesion wise was soon to be taken. so what did i have? i had a bed, and some books. i had a laptop i inherited from my dad when he died. she saw fit to give that to her son, and the first thing he did was break it. he broke the casing on a 5000 panasonic tough book, and proceeded to spill water on the damn thing. but now that it was broken i could probably have it back. half the keys didnt work. and she took my internet card from it so i couldnt access the internet. thats how my summer started before my freshman year of high school. i was stuck at home, grounded, with nothing to my name but a bed (she took the books away) and all i was good for was labor.
let me walk you through a day for me then.
i was to wake up before 10 am. if i didnt she would come rudely wake me up and insult me, letting me know how nice i must have it to sleep in all the time. now since i woke up late i had more chores to do, and since it was late, i wasnt allowed breakfast. id have to wait till lunch.
so if i woke up before 10, i was allowed to eat breakfast. mind you here are my options. toast, and cereal.
she bought donuts for breakfast all the time. but if i went to eat one like the rest of the family, i was stealing, and i was therefore made an example of. then i had to do a shit load more work to earn that fuckin 50 cent donut i had "stolen" there were also waffles, poptarts, toaster strudels, and stuff like that. but you see, those were for the other kids. not for me. and the cereal i got? try eating raisin bran, and cinnamon toast crunch every day for 4 years. took me a long time to be able to eat cereal again, and i still cant touch either one of those two.
so i have eaten. now its time to start chores. first thing is dishes. cant just load them in the dishwasher though. if theres not enough for a load, i HAVE to wash them all by hand. after that i wipe the counters down. but i have to move everything off each counter and clean them. after which i have to sweep the floor. now see right here is where the games start. she liked to walk by and wip her hand on the counter and if there was a speck, she would go "the counters didnt get cleaned" and then slap me for not doing my chores right, and then made me start over. and reminded me that other people arent stupid like this. if only i could manage a simple list of chores, i could be like other kids and have fun. so really it was MY fault. so ive now SCRUBBED the countertops for fear of missing a whole crumb, ive now swept twice (its a big ass kitchen with wood floors) and now its time for me to mop the floor. but she likes it better when i scrub those by hand. the mop "doesnt get it to shine the right way" so i would then spend the next 2 hours being cinderella and cleaning a fucking floor by hand. now how does this end? well its about 1 pm, so its lunch time. so ill take a break and eat, but wait! that means dishes are used, that means the counter gets dirty, so guess what i get to start over on? yup. my "chores" now on a hot day, after i was done with the floor, i would be outside pulling weeds in the back yard. she liked to play games with that too, ocassionally looking in a random direction and saying "theres more weeds over there" and sending me back out to pull more. what were her kids doing? whatever they wanted really. video games, hanging with friends, eating junk food i was forbidden to touch. so here it is probably about 3-5 pm, and im still doing chores. guess whats at 6? dinner. which means chores again afterwards. so its typically that im a household slave all day until after dinner. then i would go to my room and stare at the wall or ceiling, and wish i was anywhere else. or if i had a book, i would read. but often times that was short lived. because i now need to clean the bathroom! and when i did that, i got to clean hers too. now in the midst of all this, she would occasionally leave to go to the store. so she paid her 11 year old daughter to baby sit me because "i couldnt be trusted" what had i done? well its simple really, i had to be reminded every day that i am "a liar, a cheat, and a thief".
thats not a fun story. but you know whats sick? thats an EASY story. thats a NORMAL day. thats not a day where she feels like fighting me. thats not a day where i get beat senseless. its not a day where i get tortured. its not the day she claws my face with her nails. can you imagine what i feel every time i look in the mirror? i see the two thin scars on my left cheek where hair doesnt grow. but im not just seeing scars. im seeing that scared beaten helpless little boy i was. and i am seeing her beat me, and THAT is where my self loathing really begins. i was TRAINED by my own family to hate myself. and nobody did a fucking thing to save me. some of you might be thinking one of two things,
1 why did nobody notice, or 2. why didnt i say anything.
the first one is simple. people did, but she had people convinced that i was a terrible kid. a burden on the family. a lost cause doomed to repeat the mistakes of my junkie biological parents. and people believed her. but then lets look at answer number 2. why didnt i tell someone? because i TRIED. and when she works at the school i go to, it doesnt work so well. she bribed my classmates to spy on me. she bribed my FRIENDS to make shit up so she had something to beat me for. some friends right? they were all drugies but that was the only friend i could get because everyone else hated me. why? because their favorite teacher groomed the popular kids to hate me. i lived with that torture. every single day, from 7th grade, to BOTH years of 8th grade (yeah she had me held back, and even fought the school to do so.) and all the way up to the end of my sophmore year. this isnt even an in depth look at what my hell was. or whats on my mind. this is just scratching the surface. 4 years of psychological torment, physical abuse, and indentured servitude (for lack of a better prase) has left me who i am. you have no idea what i see when i look at people. youve no idea the hell i see every day. i can still hear her voice in my head, 11 years later, telling me how stupid i sound. telling me my hair looks bad. telling me people dont talk the way i do. and try working where i do. i thought i would do some good and work in a facility with kids who like me, didnt have an easy way of it. but my COWORKERS hate me. any attempt i could make at trying to better them is quickly and quietly squashed. im not fucking helping anyone where i work. and its not helping me either i dont think. i dont know why i think i owe an explanation, but i guess i feel i do. i need someone somwhere to grasp a fucking inkling of what it means to wake up every day for almost 15 years and hate yourself, hate being alive, and simultaneously wishing you could be what everyone wants you to be. i am not, and have not, and never will be good enough for anyone. whats good enough one day, isnt the next. in this world, i am, as i have always been. i am ALONE. none of you understand me when i speak it seems. things are taken the wrong way. when i say "i am not a happy person" people think "oh hes sad" no im not sad, but im not happy either. everyting is GREY to me. or another example, when i tell someone that i rely on my friends to feel happy, because i leach my happiness from their happiness, the response was that "everythig i told them was fake then?" and we havent spoken since. i want to but honestly why fucking try? im just tried. ive recently just had the biggest step forward in my music career, and i cant even be happy for a moment to celebrate that. yo uknow what i did? i cried. i sat in my car and bawled my eyes out. because anyone who would be proud of me, who would care, who i could call, is pretty much all dead, or they dont care anymore. THAT is alone. THAT is torture. why do i continue doing this? why do i keep trying to succeed when im not even doing it for anyone anymore.
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