paleoid

[paleoid]

just found out from other people both irl and online that i have been spacing out more than i thought i was and i wasnt aware of it. im not entirely sure what that could mean but im worried that i might have something mentally going on that im not aware of and that scares me a bit lol is this relatable?? idk im trying to figure this out.

[paleoid]

Three Faces

I have no idea if I can even sell this by how creepy it came out, but I'll share it will all of you-

[paleoid]

part 3 from last post. Eventually my mother had a divorce with him because she had cheated and was now pregnant with another man's baby.

I had finally spoke up for myself, and wanted to finish high-school where I was instead of moving again because of her lustful nature towards men. My mother actually let me stay, but she took my brothers with her, and I was left alone with him for 6 years.

As soon as she left, he started to groom me, and the saddest part is he used to be a CPS worker. I was 14, and I hadn't ever been officially with another person physically before. He would say odd things to me, wanted me to be more sensual, wear less clothing around the house.

I had already been touched before, so I would shatter his reality by locking myself in my room, and avoiding him as much as I could. I thought he was seeing me as his child, not as a replacement for my mother. Even then, I didn't know what was happening to me wasn't normal.

One night, as I was now 17, while we were watching Game of Thrones, he grabbed my hand and was trying to make me touch him, I ripped my hand from him and locked myself away. I would have a grand mal seizure a year later right before I turned 18, and the doctors would tell me it was genetic and there was nothing I can do about but take pills. The military couldn't take me because of my medical problem.

When I had barely made it through high-school with a few failed grades, I was sent to a small college to redo what I missed out on. Though I did myself a favor this time around and made excellent grades in Psychology and Criminal Science. Now at 18, he saw no use for me anymore, and made me pack up my things to live my grandmas.

Although I was free from him, the insecure attachment I had got worse, and one night, he called me to come visit him in his camper. He would be my first introduction to drugs, he told that since I was now 18, it was okay to do it. I believed him.

I would pass out on his bed, high as a kite, as he would lay beside me and do whatever he wanted to me all night until the next morning and I wouldn't even be able to fight back.

I would go back to my grandparents home, and pretend it never happened. My other family members had a high opinion of him, so anything negative was swept under the rug.

I would live with them for a bit, denying what I was, and trying to be what was expected of me while visiting my other family members and getting sent to the mental hospital four separate times because I did not see any reason to live, ( this happened once in childhood with my parents second divorce, got misdiagnosed because my parents denied abusing me, the second was with living with my stepfather, the third was living with my grandparents, and then back living with my mother) . I worked a few odd jobs, and some danger ones too.

I would leave my grandparents home, back to living with my mother at 22 after my mother would call begging to see me after not bothering to see when I was living with my stepfather. I agreed, yet I really didn't know her anymore. She had gotten a lot worse, started to go through my belongings, hoarding in her garage, believing that medicine was poison, and her mood swings were all over the place.

[paleoid]

this one doesn't have a title, just continuing from the last post I made. After I had reached my pre-teens, around 13-14, my parents were getting a third divorce. They also were starting to believe things that were very untrue. My father had discovered that my mother had been cheating on him, and destroyed the family car with a metal pipe outside for all our neighbors to see. By this time, I was going through puberty and hating every second of it, I dreaded the idea of becoming a woman entirely and just wanted to feel like a man. My mother had taken me and my brothers out of public school and decided to homeschool us instead for a few years. I did not have a phone or any other tech until I turned 14 and received an ipod nano as a birthday gift. It only could play music, and I had no contact with the outside world because of that.

As my parents anger towards each other grew, both divorced and living in the same house, my mother decided during hurricane season to branch out with her job search and become an airline attendant. My father, in the same breath, decided to just not go back home until she got back because he didn't want to take care of us. He did not tell her this, and instead, told her he would be at work for a bit and left me and my brothers at the house with a six pack of beer and three hotdogs while Hurricane Katrina was approaching our home. For two weeks, I alone, as a 14 year old, had to take care of my younger brothers, a 12 year old and a 9 year old with no phone to call for help while floods overtook the streets outside with nowhere to go. I have a vivid memory of that time, I remember taking flour and water and trying to make pizza as our power and water cut out. The first nights we would sleep in the same room, my youngest brother would cry and keep asking where they were and I had no answer for them. It was the most horrifying two weeks of my life, until finally my grandparents showed up to pick us up.

Apparently, they had been trying to reach out to my parents but they wouldn't pick up the phone. When my mother finally came back after another week, she blamed our state on my father, and vice versa. After a few days, my mother took us from our grandparents to our stepfathers home miles away from other family members.

This man, while he was wealthy, was a monster. He started to triangulate us, treating me better than my brothers, and I started to believe that someone actually loved me. Though I was showing clear signs of being abused and a part of the LGBT+ community with only having limited knowledge of the outside world. I wasn't straight, it was very obvious, and I had openly spoke to my family that I didn't feel comfortable in my body, and stated many times that I wish I could cut certain body parts of mine off to feel normal. At that point, my mother and stepfather both believed I needed to be 'fixed' because they had plans for me to join the military when I was 18. My teachers, now back in public school, would tell them I was smart, but I didn't seem to care about anything. I had scored a 120 on an IQ test, but I was hurting myself and refusing to eat. They ended up sending me to a conversation therapy camp way out in the middle of nowhere. Jokes on them, I found out the words for what I was. I met others like me, ( and one of my friends way back then drew me Lapis from Steven Universe, I still have it if you're still out there ), and my first love interest there. I had my first kiss in the darkness of a empty church there. Her name was Dani, and I never forgot her face, even when my parents wouldn't let us speak after they found out.

[paleoid]

"I know."

[paleoid]

Memories

Here's a bit of my history I will share with all of you since I'm starting to become more comfortable. I did some sketches of my homes I remember.

Growing up, my family was lower middle class. This meant that we were living paycheck to paycheck on barely anything while moving from apartment to apartment constantly due to my father's lustful motives towards his coworkers in the police force, and my mother's lustful motives towards any man with a thick wallet. My parents, both narcissists ( Grandiose X Covert, a match made in absolute hell ), had their first divorce when I was five years old, remarried again after only a year. During this time, my brother - I'll call him Jay for this - and I were separated and my mother was pregnant with my youngest brother - I'll call him Jeremy -. Jay and I are two years apart, and Jeremy is six years younger than me, so for a year, I was living with my mother and my youngest brothers father and a girl that was supposed to be my sister. Jeremy's father was a different man than mine, and after my mother refused to let my half-brother's father see his son, the man took his own life.

A few years passed, and my mother would take me and my two brothers to see my grandparents often during this time because of yet another divorce rearing it's ugly head. I remember every part of that gigantic home, my grandfather had built it with his own two hands. Unfortunately, it is now a hunters lodge for hunting after my grandparents passing. My family did not keep it, and sold it instead to the highest bidder for extra cash. When we split off from other family members, my parents got worse. My father would be the physical abuser, he would lose many of his law enforcement jobs because of sexual misconduct and his drinking problem. As of today, he has been arrested, but was let out due to his service as a sheriff. I have a fear of cops due to him making me watch my own brother get beaten while still wearing his uniform. When I turned seven, he molested and raped me while I was in my own bed in the dead of night. I started wetting the bed, and sleeping in a moldy closet after this happened. I have sleeping problems to this day. My mother was a bit different, while she would occasionally lose her shit and hit us, she would also neglect me and my middle brother emotionally to the point where I would become non-verbal because it was easier than speaking, and he would lash out physically in anger. My youngest brother would be treated differently, even rewarded when he openly mocked one of us. I assume my parents hurt me and Jay the most because they saw themselves in us, and they couldn't stand it.

My family's first official home was back in '12, my parents had now been through two divorces and they were trying for a third. As if the other two weren't traumatizing enough. I would lock myself in my room for days at a time, only coming out at night to eat and hoard food that would be gone the next day. I would maladaptive daydream for hours, time blurred a lot in my mind to cope with what I was dealing with. The worst part was that I thought this was all normal. I did not find out how abusive my situation was until 15 years later when I would meet my now partner. My parents religious views started to shift into something darker during this time, and as I became a pre-teen, things got worse.

I'll make a second post about this later.

[paleoid]

remembering something and then -

[paleoid]

About Me

Hello, this is my side blog! My main blog: @huggaboos I use this space to talk about heavy topics, vent, and discuss relatable mental health stuff. I plan to make some art and maybe comics to show my past traumatic experiences. Here is a list of things I discuss on this blog: TW: Abuse, C-PTSD, Traumatic events, Epilepsy, AUDHD, Dissociation, Death, and Gender Dysphoria