I Don'T Know If This Makes Sense. Part 1.From the time I was 3, my mom has been abusing me. I remember because there was this one time I got up, I don't remember why, but it was late. I sat on the couch and I remember having a bottle of bubbles. My mom woke up saw me there and she beat me pretty bad and sent me to bed. When I was almost 4, so still 3, my mom made me a sandwich. I never liked the crust on the bread and I took it out. She saw it, got mad and burned me with a spoon she was frying something with.
This continued on for most of my life. When I was 5, my dad picked me up from kindergarten. He took me home and when I got there, he pulled out his belt and beat me to the ground. Till I was in a little ball on the ground screaming my head off. He told me not to yawn with my mouth uncovered.
My mom constantly beat me. For everything. This one time, when I was about 7 or 8, I was supposed to fix the beds in the bedroom. My sister did it for me though. My mom thought I did. She called me over to tell me what a crappy job I did. She continued to beat me and slap me. Then she took my head and slammed it into the metal on my bunk-bed. I told her I didn't fix the bed and my sister stepped up and said she did. My mom then began to say how she did such a good job, much better than I ever could've done. Right after she was beating me cause it looked like crap when she thought I did it.
My mom always blamed me for every little thing that happened. She would slap me and push saying everything is my fault, "you did this", "you always cause trouble in this house" but in reality, I never knew what I did.
My dad wasn't really home much. But some nights he would come home drunk. He would drag me out of bed and belt me. He would hit me so hard and when he was done he would send me back to bed. There were times he would beat me, and beat me till I couldn't scream anymore. Only once did my mom every tell him that he beat me enough.
I was always supposed to clean. If I didn't, I'd get beat some more. This one time, I forgot to put back the floor mats in the kitchen after my mom swept the floor. She beat me with a knife. It cut the skin off of my elbow. I still have that scar.
I was really bad in school when I was little. I never knew why. Just I couldn't understand things like everyone else. But I didn't have any learning disabilities. Just I couldn't understand. So my parents would try to teach me some things. One time, when I was 5, my mom was trying to teach me how to read something, I didn't get it. So she slammed my head into the wood on our couch. It bussed my head open.
Another time, she told me to spell some months of the year. I couldn't spell one, so she belted me. My dad was trying to help me study some of my school work when I was about 6, I got something wrong so he beat me up with a metal spoon. My parents beat me till every inch of my body was covered in swollen prints of whatever the beat me with. Knives, belts, wooden and metal spoons. My dad once slammed my head into a table. Gave my a bloody nose and it bust open my lip. I was 7.
Sometimes, before I would go to bed, my parents would give me mini quizzes. To make sure I learned my homework.They would send me to go find something they can beat me with when I got something wrong. Then they would put it down in front of me. Every time I got a question wrong, they would beat me. If I got 2 wrong, they would beat me some more. Sometimes I just couldn't get something, so they would beat me till they got tired and send me to bed.
They did so much more to me. So much that I can't write it all here. There just isn't enough words in the vocabulary. But I can't help but always try to do things for my parents. I'm 20 years old now and I still let them tell me what to do without taking a stand. It's why I'm never happy. I don't know if that makes any sense..or if it's just plain crazy.