I’m 33 still live with parents due to financial constraints. I’ve been abused in so many ways it’s like the trauma has become who I am. Beyond being a verbal and physical punching bag I don’t know who I am or what I’m meant for.
My entire life I’ve been reminded of my many flaws and mistakes. I’ve been repeatedly told that I’m destined to fail, amount to nothing, be a disappointment, unworthy, a waste of space. I’ve constantly been told I lack both brains and beauty. Not just by family either, high school teachers would tell me the exact same thing. I even failed my GCSEs despite trying my best which I was always told was enough. Evidently it was far from enough but proof that everything I was told was true.
I was also physically abused at the age of 11. Strangled until I passed out by a relative. Then being kicked in the back as I was coming to because I wasn’t responding to them. I told but I was reprimanded. Accused of making up stories. Not just by one person either but relatives would come to the house just to reprimand me. When I pointed out the bruising on my neck I was told I did them myself. A few days later I went to school. A male teacher put his hand over my shoulder while placing a text book on the desk. I flinched. In a millisecond I thought it was happening again. In the same millisecond I knew what was happening. I knew I’d become scared of men. I also knew I couldn’t tell anyone. I couldn’t go home and tell because I couldn’t risk another mockery. I couldn’t tell a teacher because they’d ask questions and bring my parents into it. Then my parents would reprimand me further and I couldn’t risk being taken away either. So I kept it to myself. I learned to compartmentalise. It was hard and I hit rock bottom. It led me to consider ending my life. I no longer wanted to be the burden I so clearly was. I didn’t want to be the one that brought my family down. The one who couldn’t keep the disfunction together. I did try a few times but my dog would put her head in the way so I couldn’t.
I managed to pull myself out of that hole on my own. It took everything I had. Especially as I witnessed my dog get attacked and almost killed. She was there for me every time I needed her but when she needed me I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t repay the favour. The only thing I could do was watch these 2 dogs pin her and rip her apart. Thankfully she did survive and wonky with puncture wounds. Even in that moment, the first thing she did was come and find me. Still she was there for me when I couldn’t be there for her. The vet couldn’t even be she survived let alone only coming away with puncture wounds. She healed but she became reactive after. I watched my dog become a completely different dog. Every time we encountered a dog I watched her become a dog I did not recognise. I endured horrific abuse as a result. People would accuse me of training her to be that way. They’d tell me how much I should be ashamed of myself, that I should have her destroyed and called me all the names under the sun. I was around 16 at the time. So it made pulling myself out of the dark hole I was in extra hard. To this day I have no idea how I managed to do it.
A few years ago what that relative did resurfaced. All because I referred to him for what he was; an abuser. Everyone rallied around them because they were upset. No one asked my side. No one asked how I was. I was accused of bringing up ancient history. Told how I should be over it by now. Told I should’ve brought it up at the time. Told I was making it up and I was crazy. Even told by another family member that it couldn’t have happened because they never felt in danger around the abuser. As well as their friend sending me a threatening message. But no one spoke to me. So convinced I was lying or bringing up things that they don’t want to face and somehow I’m a fault. Yet, if they’re so convinced the abuser is innocent and I’m lying or crazy why haven’t they expressed any concern for that let alone any concern for what actually happened. My family have seemed to of swept the whole thing under the rug and expect me to do the same. Like doing that never destroyed me the first time. My family have ostracised me. They look at me with so much hatred. Like they would rather I didn’t exist. My parents say they support me and they believe me but it’s the elephant in the room. If I ever bring it up I get shut down like it’s a forbidden topic. They’re still welcome in the house and I have to make myself scarce so they don’t feel uncomfortable.
My mum was even diagnosed with cancer October 2023. They never bothered. Never expressed any concern for my mum. In fact anytime they were informed of anything they made it clear it was an inconvenience. Then all I hear is how this was the proof my mum needed of my abusers true colours because abusing me wasn’t enough proof. Which confirms my suspicions that I’m not actually believed but told I’m believed because my mum thinks it’s what I want to hear and to shut me up about it.
Two months before my mum was diagnosed with cancer I got a puppy. I asked if I’d have help and I was promised I would get help. I was promised I’d be listened to. There’s also other dogs in the house. Half of which I didn’t agree to. They were adopted on impulse. The people they belong to has never taken responsibility for them. That’s something that’s fallen on me. When my mum was diagnosed any help I may of gotten never happened. I expected as much but to then expect me to shoulder all the dogs, running my business, going to work and my mum’s diagnosis on my own was too much. On multiple occasions I witnessed my mum check in on my dad and brother, my dad check in on my mum and brother and my brother check in on my parents. But no one ever checked on me. No one asked if they could take some of the burden off. I know this may sound like I’m making my mum’s diagnosis about me and not my mum but it’s not that. It’s the fact I was expected to take on more and while everyone else could check in with each other no one thought of me. I was on my own, again.
No one cares if or when I’m struggling. The stress of trying so hard to keep everything together, trying to keep my head above water. My mum has had the all clear for 8 months. I still don’t get help. To train my puppy I need distance. I need an extra pair of hands. I cannot do it on my own. While I’m asking for help so I can be responsible for my dog I’m expected to take care of my brothers. Help him take care of his dog because he can’t be bothered but no one wants to help me. Knowing what I need but lack the resources because I lack the support is exhausting. The weight is too much to bare. I’m in constant pain which I can’t get a doctor appointment for because I have to phone for a same day appointment at 8am but I’m in work. And when I’m off work the doctors are closed. How am I supposed to get help for my mental health when I can’t for my physical health. The only way I can get help for my mental health is if I pay for it but I can’t afford it. So I’m stuck being a walking trauma. Barely keeping my head above water. Hearing the universal message that tells us we are not alone but I am. I’m at an impasse.
I have so many regrets. The biggest one though is not ending it when I had the chance. It would’ve saved me a whole lot of suffering, stress, and my family a burden.