Life After Death

1

Everything started when I was eleven, we were going through tough times. My dad lost his job and my mom had a burnout. We didn't had a lot of money so we had to move to a small apartment. Because of that my parents were arguing all the time, mostly about nothing but sometimes it was really serious. They'd throw stuff to each other and even fought.

I've tried to talk to them but they just didn't listen. They'd tell me to shut up or just get really mad at me. They said it wasn't my business and if they were bothering me so much I should just leave.

Of course that was not what I meant, hearing my dad say that to me broke my little child heart. I never told my mom about this, I didn't wanted to bother her because she was already stressed out.

When I tried talking to both of them they started slapping me and telling me that they didn't care about what I thought.

They said stuff like;

"You're a disappointment to the family",

"You were an accident",

"You're worthless",

"Nobody likes you"

"Nobody needs you".

It was either that or they'd call me names like;

"Bitch",

"Slut",

"Nightmare child",

"Devil",

or

"Loser".

At first it was only mental abuse, with words. But after a little while they slapped me again and started kicking me.

They never realized what it did to me, when they were arguing again or when I got beaten up by them. I was most likely to hide in my room. Under my blankets with my teddybear.

I'd just cry for hours, their fights made me so scared

Most of the time I was at Mikes place, I never truly told him what happened at home. I was too scared, luckily he understood. When I was at his place I never wanted to go home at the end of the day. That's why I slept over most of the time, just the thought of having to go back home gave me so much anxiety. I would have had at least two panic attacks by just thinking about home.

At school I had difficulties with learning, I have dyslexia and I can't calculate. When it was my turn to read or to make a sum I always messed up. I never found a solution for the equations and I read things that weren't there. Sometimes it would embarrass me big time, I once read shit instead of sit. The entire class would laugh at me and my teacher sometimes got very mad at me.

I've tried explaining that I genuinely couldn't help my reading mistakes but no one ever believed me. Teachers demanded to speak with my parents but of course they never showed up. When they asked me why they didn't show up, I quickly came up with a lie. I was so scared, that I never dared to tell anyone what really happened at home.

I always hid my bruises, either with long sleeves or with makeup. Especially during gym class I had a hard time. I had to cover up all my bruises with foundation and I had to try to act as normal as possible. I was in huge pain, I couldn't even lift up my gym clothes sometimes. So before gym I took at least two aspirins, for a little while it helped but after that it didn't. Every time I got a ball thrown at me I got so much anxiety and even the slightest touch hurt.

When I was twelve, I started doing self harm. I still do it. Back than I started doing it because I felt so incredibly miserable and I didn't know what else to do. Now I also do it as punishment, because I found out that I'm a lesbian. I don't want anyone to know that I do self harm, so now I have even more scars to hide. I don't want questions to be asked. It's too painful to talk about myself.