At 18 I was raped. However, my abuse started long before that. I was six, being raised by my mother and her parents. Ever wondered what happened to the children who got no praise for their hard work at school and were social outcasts and endlessly bullied?
I am one them, I am socially stunted, I cannot form lasting friendships or relationships simply due to lack of trust. I catch myself wondering, 'when will the abuse begin?', 'when will I be abandoned?' or 'when will I be told that I am not good enough?'.
Growing up, I was never praised, I was always asked 'why did you not do better?'. Told to be seen and not heard. When I was bullied my family did not want to hear of my problems, often I was told, 'just let it slide off your back, like water off a ducks back'. I tried, I really did. Cruel things were said to me, and I was used when my mother and her mother fought as a chess pawn, even though I had no involvement in the issue at hand. This is emotional abuse, I wish it on no one.
I was a hostage in my own home, no going to or having birthday parties. No sleep overs, no having friends over or even visiting friends. I made friends with books and music. I was deemed an irritation by my mother's parents over school vacations. The loneliness was suffocating.
My dad passed from complications due to lymphoblastic leukemia the day before my 11th birthday. I was forced to go to school because I had a test. My teachers were angry, but I simply followed the rules.
I was left two trusts by my dad, now before anyone gets any idea's, my parents were divorced and the monies from these trusts were for my maintenance per the court agreement and future. The larger of the two was lost to the Fidentia scandal and the smaller was almost completely depleted by my mother by the time I reached 21. She used the money for herself, financial abuse.
I met my first boyfriend shortly before I turned 17. He was amazing, or so it seemed. 6 months into the relationship he started to hit me. Why didn't I leave. Well with 11 years of pent up emotional pain, the physical pain was a release, an unhealthy one but a release nonetheless. He forced me to do sexual things that I was not ready for. I really should have left then, but the pain was so addictive. After he raped me, nearly two years later and got me pregnant. I left him. I bore those burdens alone, never seeking help except for the swift abortion.
My adult life has been a wreck, I let my past define me. Until one day, I had a total meltdown, I hit rock bottom. I had lost all hope, the will power to get out of bed, to eat, to live. A friend who had not heard from me in a while dragged me in my pyjamas to go see a psychologist at a free clinic. I saw the psychologist for 2 years, great progress has been made.
Now comes the crux of the matter, I need to see a specialist psychiatrist. As I have PTSD, among many other things. The medication nor the appointments are cheap.
I don't want my past to own me, I want to write my own future. Would you please help me?