My life Story(True Story)

1- Aged Three- Red Flag

My depression started at this age.

Now that I think about. I have been thinking about it for awhile actually.

It was around nighttime. My memory is still hazy because I don't exactly want to remember these things. But I'll try to recount. I remember hearing my Dad and Mom argue as per usual. I think my parents were Divorced by than. Their voices made me shake with fear, a three old shouldn't feel this type of fear not from her parents anyway. My mind was thinking of scenarios, some very weird and stupid now that I think about it. I thought my parents were acting. That this was only just a act and everything will be just fine when I wake up.

But every time I woke up. It was the same feeling of fear and the loud screaming I woke up too. I shared a room with my parents because I was too scared to stay on my own. My Dad always slept naked and I didn't realize that this was actually sexual abuse on a child on till I was much older because I looked it up. Worrying about it but I ignored it not really caring since I knew he wouldn't do nothing to me. My mother on the hand- He would.

He used to sometimes force my Mam and I'd hear it sometimes, even if I wasn't in the same bed. I was always in the same room. Always. I'd hear cursing, my Mam crying some nights when my Dad was either out, or downstairs drinking and I would too.

Because we both knew what would happen when he came upstairs.

Even though I was just three, possibly four around this time. I knew what was bad and right. If only I kept that same thought when I went to primary first. But that's for another chapter.

On with the story..

One night, I was refusing to go to bed and I was throwing a childish tantrum that I wish I didn't at the time because my Mam got the withdrawal from it. But my dad was trying to get me up to bed and I was standing out into the hallway screaming at him. Than I threw my pacifier at him and I knew a red flag went off and I knew the second I saw the scary look on Dads face.

That I had to run.

And I did.

I rushed upstairs like an animal with four legs pounding into the staircase and into to my parents room since it was my room too. I hid down with my arms covering my body and burying my head into my knees and crying and shaking. My parents loud shouting echoing in my hears.

Slap.

I sobbed louder hearing my Mam begging him to stop. My mind reeling already from my childish mind to just the start of my dark, depressive one. Because I knew this was my fault..

it's always my fault.