Sort OfI would say I hated my life to a point when growing up. I was mature for my age and everyone from family, friends, teachers and ect they all complimented on my mature nature. I was a straight A student, I was always on honor roll, I was pegged as the leader in class....but all of those things led to me being picked on profusely and I never knew when it would stop.
I have so many memories of being called "different." At first I thought it was like an abnormal thing, as if I was an outcast (which was always the case) because I was always dubbed as that girl in the back of the classroom, quiet as hell, nice, kind person.....and weird. Though that didn't really matter much because I got picked on a lot during school and it was always a rough time because one I was a complete dork and dressed very tomboyish during my few years of school, I had big *** dorky owl glasses which indeed got me picked on for being four eyes, I was taken advantage of because I was the smart kid in class so everyone loved cheating and ect just the atypical bullying of dumb school.
I have a lot of memories of going to school and being scared to go out during recess because kids were complete ******** and were so mean to me that I would beg the teacher to let me stay inside but they always said no and shoved me out there; it was like I was the bait and the children were the sharks to come have a bite of me. Every name, punch, kick, shoving was so bad I would be running for my life during recess because these kids would pick on me so much, they even broke my glasses a few times. I was too nice and scared to do any fighting back and I think I was more afraid of getting in trouble because I knew what was to come if I beat the living hell outta other kids..... Dad would be getting a handle on me and beat me till I fainted. I look back on it now and that wasn't the only reason why I wouldn't hit back, I didn't hit back because I was scared of becoming like that man, that so called "father" of mine.
School was always rough for me because of the kids following me home jumping me in the streets and just wailing on me, to this day I don't know why these guys did that to me because I would have never hurt a fly but I guess they saw me as weak and vulnerable so they just decided it was best because I would never tell on them which I regret not telling because they could have been taken care of a long time ago. As my life goes on I did toughen up, I did end up getting into a fight with guys and got my *** handed to me, got into fights with girls and won a lot of them because they were just all talk and no show. Though I did end up getting in a couple more with guys in middle school and now my fights would be an awesome win because I wasn't scared. I would say though that I am not proud of any of those fights but then again I never started any of them, people for some reason always had big beef with me so they decided to break me down to look like the bad guy. Which in this case I never was.
Okay, so school tough, rough and almost dying a few times besides that home life was not as great either. I lived in the bad parts and I lived in the semi good parts, there were good areas but that's where all the snotty rich folk live and people are just plain rude there. My home life was just a nightmare at times with my dad being either drunk or sober when I get home. Sometimes I would get random beatings from him trying to make an excuse to hurt me and of course my mother always protecting me trying to get him to stop always turned her into getting hurt and me getting the beatings ten times harder. I had two older siblings, an old brother (middle child) and my older sister (the oldest). They were there for the most part but they never did anything because they were just as scared as I was, FEAR was the main thing in the house, the only loving thing in that house was that little thing called hope and hope let me down a lot.
I could describe these beatings in such gruesome detail but I won't pain anyone to have to read what I lived through because no one and I MEAN NO ONE should ever in their lives experience someone so brutal as my father. He would use various things to beat me to electrical cords, long thin bamboo sticks, belts, physical contact of beating, throwing me around, and pretty much anything that could inflict pain. He would just find anything to get back at me for something I either did or didn't do.
A lot of my life consisted of running away meaning me legitly running outta the house and running to a friends house blocks away and never explaining what happened or my mother would get so upset she would pack a few things and we would head out to my loving grandparents house so my dad had space to cool down and stop going on his random rampages. We would stay there for days or weeks depending on whether or not my mother felt it was safe for us kids to go back.
I had a lot of heart breaking moments that tore me apart but I guess "the things that break you make you stronger," I hate that hurt feeling of losing something, someone or just feeling hurt because my life sucked at a lot of moments though I was so, so , so thankful for the things my mother provided me and made sure that I had a a roof over my head and at least at some point have people around me that wouldn't hurt me, those few moments in life were pure gold to me that I would cherish every second that it lasted but not for long as it broke yet again by that dreadful person I hate the most. My first heart breaking moment was my sister moving out at 18 years old, she left me and my brother because my father was so brutal and had so many rules she got sick and tired of it and left so she moved into an apartment with a friend 15 minuets away. I cried a lot and I was still young maybe about 4 or 5 years old and I grabbed her and held on to her because I didn't want her to leave me in this hell whole with my father, to this day she feels bad leaving but we couldn't be mad at her because we all wanted to be relieved of this monster.
I lost a lot of family growing up too, I lost my great grandmother on my grandma's side that lived in Virginia, I loved going there every summer to see them, I lost my great grandfather on my grandfathers side that lived in New York, I lost my grandmother which was the most traumatic thing I ever went through, I lost my uncle, and I lost a lot of pets dogs to be more exact. I had a lot of sorrow in my life and it was always a gloomy day in the household.
Even though my life was a complete hell hole at times I did have some fun times and those memories always forever stick in my head because those were the days of finally trying to be happy or my father actually being nice to us. I had a lot going on and it died down a lot now because my parents are divorced so I live with my mother and older brother, everyone's doing somewhat better but everyone's relieved of some things and we don't have too many worries about certain people or things just the essentials in life.
I can't believe how far I have made it with almost dying, to having my *** handed to me by my father or those guys on the playground, to my near death experiences and so on. I lost a lot but gained a lot over the years of my life so far and I am so thankful for the people I have met or ever talked to and I'll never forget all my hardships, I know there's more to come and honestly I am ready to face it all. From going to hell and back for so long I could say I am in between balancing things out right but it will never be perfect which is fine by me because I am happy now and that's all that matters.