A childhood to recover from

It all started when I was young. My parents had a marriage that would have never worked out. After I was born it made things a whole lot worse. My mother was a kind of narcissist. They were the opposites of each other. My mom made my life toxic. And her words and actions made my dad turn against me. She would often exaggerate or tell only half of the Story. I was never raped or sexually assaulted. But I was bet several times for not listening or just as a punching bag for realising out stress. By both my dad and my mom. Then came my sister. Defending her meant more beatings for me. My parents would argue during dinner and then leave all the food lying there. I remember because I would cry and eat. I would often cry myself to sleep praying to die of a heart attack the next morning. Family relationships with my mom worsened my mom’s condition. She removed all her anger on me. She poked me. She made fun of me. Called me names and said mean things. I was just 5 or 6. I believed them. I kept quiet. My mom invaded my privacy. She said mean things about everyone yet acted nice in front of them. She was two faced. I endured all those beatings and scolding thinking every family went through the same. But little did I know I was suffering from emotional abuse and depression from a very young age. I often thought about suicide. My mom would swear a lot. She often used very dirty and disgusting words but would come back all sweet. I began hating people because of it. I cut myself for not living upto people’s expectations. I wanted to die because I couldn’t see anymore of my mom. My mom made my life miserable. There was a point where she put her self as the victim and me as the perpetrator. Little did anyone know I was the victim. She would falsify me. She would say bad things about me to other people. She would always say I wish you were dead or I wish I never had you. I don’t know how many moms say it on a day to day basis. I was emotionally abused for a long time. My dad stopped doing it ever since I was 13. But my mom still does it. I endured a lot of it. I even thought of telling on her to the child abuse department. I dialled their no. But then apologised saying there was a misunderstanding. My mom removes all the stress and trauma she has had in her life on me and my sister. I’m still 17. Just going to turn 18. I don’t cut anymore. It isn’t worth it. My mom also threatens on killing her self or setting her self on fire. She threatens us all the time. This is just a mere 1% of it all. We have to live. And I want to leave one day. Hope we get what we want.

— Survivor, age 17