My mother got pregnant on purpose to keep my father around.Â He left my mom when I was only a year old because she was too controlling and greedy. So, my mom decided to take her anger out on me. She wasn’t even around much, s0 my grandparents, aunt and uncle took care of me. I didn’t even call her mom – I just called her by her first name.
I never played with children my age and just hung out around adults. When I entered kindergarten, I was excited to be around kids my age. But, they began to mock me, make fun of my appearance, and shove me around. Every day, they called me a weirdo, FREAK, loser, ugly. The teachers even joined in. By then, I had chronic depression.
When I came home, I arrived to constant argument between family members. I lived with my grandparents, uncle, and two aunts, and mother, so everyone would join in. They would yell at one another: “I HOPE YOU DIE.”,”I HOPE A TRAIN RUNS YOU OVER.” And, they would fight about money the most. The arguments were terrifying. The police had arrived several times.
One of my uncles, a drug addict, targeted me the most and usually called me: stupid, worthless, *****. He even asked me a few years later, when another uncle of mine moved in, “Why are you still here? You’re worthless. You’re never going to do anything with that STUPID FACE.”
My other uncle worked as a gym teacher at the elementary school I attended, and told the teachers to “do anything to make me socialize with the other kids”. The teachers ridiculed me even more, thinking that method would work. By third grade, I had extreme social phobia to the point where I would come close to passing out whenever I saw three people around me… Even to this day, I still feel this way. I wouldn’t eat my lunch, I wouldn’t complete my homework because of the stress at home and because the kids at my table were always throwing things at me… I couldn’t concentrate at all. I couldn’t even say a single word. Every day they would throw basketballs at my head, throw food at me, and kick me. At four years old, I wanted to kill myself. At six years old, I was prescribed Prozac. I was prescribed three other anti-depressants after Prozac failed. The last one was Celexa, which gave me uncontrollable ‘ticks’.
My mother finally reunited with my dad when I was five, and she would force me to go with her to hotels where she and my dad would have sex in front of me and my half-brother. She wouldn’t leave until 3 AM, and we would have to take the bus back home. I begged her to not drag me along anymore. But, she would twist my arm and punch me in the back to obey her. This continued for another three years. And when she took me to see the psychologist, she never told the truth, and always said, “I don’t understand why she is so depressed.”
In high school, the kids would shove me against lockers, kick my back, hit my head with their books. A girl even state in front of the entire classroom: “She is so weird; her body is weird, her face is weird….Everything about her is weird. She’s the school’s FREAK.” Whenever I would sit near someone, they would move away and pretend to ‘wipe away’ the ‘germs’. I am in college now, and people are still calling me a freak.
I tried killing myself a few months ago by consuming a lot of sleeping pills. But, something stopped me. I wanted to kill myself because I absolutely loathed myself. I failed at school, I am unwanted, hated, and I am a monster. My family blames me for everything that has happened to them.
In January of this year, we were evicted from the house. My family blames it all on me, and say, “I hope you kill yourself.” Â To make things worse, we are staying at one of my uncle’s house, and he is losing his house, too. The sheriff could arrive at any minute to evict us.
I never knew this word: ‘love’. I couldn’t even say it without feeling like crying.
I seriously do not want to live anymore. I should have killed myself a few months ago. All I feel is emptiness. I will never be anything. I am hated. I am too stupid. I am filled with bitterness. I am nothing. I am a failure.