I never really want my posts to be read, never really care if they aren’t. but I want this one to be read, desperatly. I want to know. the title says it all.
Age 1-5. don’t remember anything. nothing. maybe it’s just because I was too young, but everyone else remembers shit from that age. maybe the following will explain.
My dads a phsychopath, full bred. Married my mom and then came her two years of…well what I am now. She was beaten, raped, jailed inside her own home. won’t go into too much detail. Sometimes I think I’m the result of one of those horric nights. I was conceived while they were married after all.
Anyway, she ran from they house, taking me and my brother with her, to my grandfather’s (Papa). we lived they for a year blah blah blah, moved to scotland etc. At this time I’m now 5, maybe 6. typical happy little kid, I moved again, to a different town, and then again, and again. But lets go back a little bit, to Comrie. I was never accepted, ever. I was the little girl who wore black. My teachers thought I had some mental disabilty xD lets carry on.
I’m now…10 I’d say, and so it begins. one day, after school. My brother came into my room.
‘Ema, you wanna play a game?’
oh the appeal of a lovely brother-duaghter game, my mind flew with colourful ideas. but twas not to be.
I think you know what happened. it’s a classic story I suppose. too common to be horrific. But isn’t that what makes it horrific?
Anyway, this continued on for about a year and a half. at this time, I knew enough to know this was wrong, but I guess my mind sheltered me from the pain. I thought it was a game, and I don’t remember much from the actual moments. but then again, I didn’t remember anything until september, 2009, 9am.
Now I’m thirteen. and I’ve met someone, he says the things every young love-struck girl wnts to hear. ‘I love you, but can’t be with you right now’ ‘we will be together soon’. Like on of those little fairy tails. They were meant to be, but had hurdles to leap.
He’d be here, then be gone for 8 weeks at a time. and act like it was the most mundane of things. I didn’t love him, I was obssessed. All of the ‘here and then not’ drove me crazy, I would wait and wait, and pretty soon it became an addiction. big mistake. This probably driggered it. it was like any other addiction. with it you were high as a fucking kite. without; you were dead. but after about a year and a half, I got over it. but, it was kinda too late to actually be myself. by this time I was 14, and depressed for a year. somewhere in the whole obsession. I’d ontrated many o’ problems. He’d made me weak. and everything that I had battled, had it’s chance.
The rapes, they destroyed me, My dad, destroyed me, everything, destroyed me. I became paranoid, every man, was him. then it grew to the point that everyone was him, this of course led to agoraphobia. it didn’t help that my mom made a slave of me. sending me out to do her shit every five minutes, while my rapist brother lazed to unmentionable hours. But my family never has been a family, so of course I was just a room mate to them. anway, panic attacks exploded around me like I was caught in a cross fire. they happened everywhere, inside outside. they could last hours or seconds. Everything. And I mean everything set them off. So now my life is hell with them, the most mundane of actions are impossible for me. simply walking to school is hell.
My mom, has kinda snapped. we don’t talk, ever. unless it’s of course her telling me to do something. It seems she as to punish me for my depression. She’ll hit me, throw crap at me, if I so much as stay in my room. but ah well, I love her anyway.
And so it comes to the present. still panic disorder stricken, still depressed, self harm, suicidal, try to stay inside as much as possible, which of course doesn’t help when the thoughts come when I’m alone.
So. there’s the jist of my story, there’s more, but. I don’t think anyone wants to know the itty bitty details |: see, I am paranoid!