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problemchildnoonewanted · 5 years ago

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Buckle in cause this is a long one mate. Also keep in mind that this is a very stressful topic for me so I apologize in advance for bad grammar.

Now gather ‘round and let me tell you a story, children. And please. Read to the end.

I lived the majority of my life thinking the way I was treated was normal. I became accustomed to and even expectant of my mother's physical and mental abuse. To me it was just something I lived with. Something I thought everyone lived with. I thought it was normal for your mother to yell and scream about how useless, ungrateful, disrespectful, stupid, ugly, and disappointing you are. Even when you've done nothing. I won't even get into how normalized I was to being slapped or punched or to objects connecting with the back of my head when I was too far away to touch or ran in fear. The bottom line is I thought it was normal to believe your mother hated you.

I also thought that it was normal to want to die everyday.

I never knew that I was being abused until one day when I was 16. I was in ny first car and getting McDonald's with my bestfriend after school because I hadn't eaten anything all day. We were driving down the road back to my friends house when my mother called me. I asked my friend to be quiet because I remembered that my mom didn't like when others could hear her when we were on the phone. But I couldn't pull over safely where we were and I knew that if I didn't answer I'd have a new bruise, broken self esteem, and no phone tomorrow. And although my friend looked confused she agreed. So I answered on hands free mode.

"Hey mom. What's up?"

"Excuse me?"

"What's wrong?"

"You know better than to talk to me like that!"

I was confused but gave in.

"Yes ma'am. You're right I'm sorry."

She scoffed at me as though she didn't believe me.

She then asked where I was. Keep in mind I'm normally home straight after school just about 30 minutes after my mother gets home.

I didn't want to give away that my best friend was in the car and risk getting in even more trouble than I clearly already was. So I lied.

"I just wanted some McDonald's today for dinner."

"Oh really, with who's money?"

"Dad gave me some money while I was at his house."

"How much and why didn't you tell me?"

I knew from experience that if I told her I had money it'd be gone when I woke up.

"Just $10. I forgot about it until I found it in my bag today."

Yet another scoff.

"And what about the food at home?"

"I just didn't want the instant rice again tonight."

I knew the second those words left my mouth that I messed up. I had complained.

The booming voice that rang throughout my car scared me half to death and nearly made me swerve into oncoming traffic.

I sat there in terror for nearly five minutes straight being called every name in the book while my mother yelled about how hard she works to give me what I have and still it's not enough for me. About how unappreciative I was and how much I didn't care about her hardships.

And of course any words that I managed to get in were "back talk" and "attitude" and "disrespect". So I eventually gave up and did whatever I could think of to make this more manageable when I got home. So I started agreeing and apologizing and promising I'd do better. At what? I didn't know but if I didn't get hit then I didn't care.

She eventually calmed down and asked when I'd be home and knowing I still had to drop my friend off at her home I told her maybe 20 minutes since traffic is bad. In reality, the roads were fairly clear, I was just preparing to break traffic laws to speed home in time.

"Fine."

And she hung up.

The entire time I shed maybe one or two tears when my mother picked at my insecurities but over all I felt numb and was mentally preparing myself for despair once I got home.

Then I looked at my best friend to apologize for the noise and for having to rush home but what I saw almost made me slam on the brakes. She was hunched over and trembling as she struggled to keep her hands clamped over her mouth and tears were pouring down her face.

I was scared and confused about what was wrong with easily the best person in my life. Luckily I was pulling up to her house so I sped up the driveway and threw my car in park. I knew I had to get home but my friend was more important to me than my future bruised ego and body.

I tried to pull her hands away from her face and get her to tell me what was wrong but that only seemed to make her more distressed. Then she unbuckled her seatbelt and I unbuckled mine. She ripped away from me eventually and threw the door open and jumped out. I thought maybe she was going to throw up and would want help getting inside but then I saw the most unathletic girl I had ever met run for the first time since we met around my car to my side.

"What are you doing!? What's wrong!?"

I called out hoping for an answer but she was still a sobbing mess as she opened my door and proceeded to try and drag me out of my own car.

"Why are you doing this? Are you okay? I have to get home!"

"No you can't!"

Know that my friend is on the spectrum and when she gets emotional she can't communicate her thoughts very well and she was clearly having a breakdown so I didn't expect much.

"What are you talking about? I have to go soon!"

"No please!"

And that's when her mom came out after hearing the yelling.

She looked at her daughter attempting to drag her much taller and stronger friend into their house in clear confusion. She didn't know what was going on but she could tell that I wanted her off of me. So she pulled her screaming daughter off of me and I let her know that she just started crying suddenly.

She held her child in her arms as she cried and I remember feeling amazed at that.

When I told her I had to go home and she told me my friend would be okay I left.

I went at least 30 over the limit on the way home and if I had crashed I would have certainly died. But I somehow made it on time.

So I only got yelled at and sent to my room.

The next morning when I went to hang out with my friend before I drove us to school she clung to me at her front door. And her mom asked me to come sit down.

I have a fear of adults so of course I always did whatever her mom asked of me, though she never asked much.

Her mom explained to me that my friend told her what happened in the car. I was confused.

"What about it?"

"Honey, your mom is abusing you."

I was appalled by her statement.

To me, abuse was like what people do to animals. Not other people.

"No she isn't. Its normal."

It was my friend's mom's turn to look appalled.

"No it isn't. Haven't you ever seen other parents with their kids?"

"People act different in public."

"Not like that. You watch a lot of movies with my daughter. You've seen how they act in movies."

"But that's not real."

After about a half hour later, I finally understood. The way my friend's mom acted around me and other people was genuine unlike how my mom put up an act around her friends and others in general. That's the first time I ever realized that I was being abused. 16 years old and it had never crossed my mind. Not once.

"I want to call CPS."

Her mom told me.

"What's CPS?"

I could tell she was a bit shocked I didn't know about them.

"It's Child Protection Services. It's like calling the police."

"No you can't call the police! Please!"

"I have to your damn mom is hurting you!"

I explained that while I don't like my mother and she doesn't like me, I still loved her. I wanted to be away from her but I didn't want her in jail.

So she gave me an choice. Either she calls CPS or she gets to deal with my mother. And I had to choose because she said she wouldn't let it go.

While I feared for the consequences of her talking to my mother I feared for my mother more.

So I gave my friend's mom my mother's number and my friend and I left for school. But before we left I promised my friend's mom that no matter what I wouldn't answer any calls from my mother.

And call she did. She called me over 30 times that day. And I had just as many voicemails. None of which I ever listened to. I was too scared.

That day I was terrified that at any moment she would break down my classroom door or have my school call me to the front for her. But she never did.

When I took my friend home that day. Her mom was waiting in the driveway for us.

She told me that from that day forward I would be living with them. My friend was ecstatic. Jumping everywhere, squealing about bunk beds, and then immediately going to clean her room so I could have space for my stuff.

It obviously wasn't where I officially lived. No one but my friend, her sister, her mom, her grandma, my mother, and my dad knew where I would be living. Well our 3 other close friends knew too. And before you ask there were reasons I couldn't live with my dad that I had explained to my friends mom in the past.

The move was hard but my dad oversaw the whole thing. I was convinced he was about to kill my mother one time when she almost threw a lamp at me. In front of him. But I convinced him I was fine.

She of course wanted my phone back. But I didn't care. My dad got me a new one and my friends mom put me on her plan.

When I got home that night from packing at my mother's that first day my friend's mom gave me the biggest hug I had ever gotten from an adult. Unfortunately, I didn't enjoy it much because I was terrified she would hurt me but it did feel nice in a way.

But nothing compared to when I got all the stuff moved that my mother would let me take. That night after my dad went home my friend's mom hugged me again and said,

"You're officially my kid now. And I will love you and protect you."

I think that was the first time I ever cried with joy. But I do know that that was the first time I ever had a mom.

But know that not everyone has a happy ending. There were factors that allowed me to move in with my new family. Like the fact that I had already spent so much time there that to them it felt like I already lived there. And the kind of person that my mom not my mother is. She loves kids and wants a thousand of them. This is in part because of how she was raised and the fact that she lost her first born to illness after a few months after his birth.

In fact, she pseudo adopted a friend of my bff's sister. I only say pseudo because like me it isn't official and she was already 18. She was neglected by her parents and psychologically manipulated by her mother. She'd never had her own pillow or mattress before or know what it was like to not constantly be guilt tripped.

We're actually in the process of saving yet another child from a mother far worse than mine. But this time we're trying the legal route because the baby isn't born yet and the mother has a history of serval crimes including child abuse.

If you're wondering I do still talk to my mother but it's not very often and rarely in person. But it's always on my terms. And I leave or hang up when she gets mean.

And me moving most certainly didn't fix all my problems. Its 3 and a half years later and I still flinch around my mom when she's to close and others as well. I'm also terrified of people in general. Its fucking painful going outside into society. And it may sound bad but covid is one of the best things to ever happen to me. I don't have to be near people or talk to them.

And 3 and a half years certainly won’t fix the 16 years I spent in near constant despair. I can’t remember very many times from my childhood to my liberation that I didn’t want to die. I attempted suicide 3 times. Only 2 of which my mother knew about. I won’t go into detail about any of them right now. Come to find out that, yes. Doctors questioned my mother. But not me. And she was so damn good at acting. And it didn’t help that she’s a nurse. So I was written off with clinical depression.

To this day, I still have have severe PTSD, depression, anxiety, and a whole list I don't have time for. And to this day, I still can't be touched unexpectedly without jumping, flinching, screaming, yelping, or, on very bad days, attacking whoever or whatever touched me on accident.

So please. If you read this far. Spread awareness. Educate children and adults on the signs of abuse. I went 16 years without knowing. Some have gone much longer. Don't let children live in fear and sarrow and anger.

Don't let your friends and family and others suffer. If you see something, say something.

good parents dont hit their children. good parents dont touch their children inappropriately. good parents dont scream at their children. good parents dont manipulate their children. good parents dont imprison their children at home. good parents dont threaten their children. good parents dont starve their children. good parents dont harass their children.

good parents do not abuse their children.

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