More Degenerate With Each Passing Day
"What doesn't kill you can only make you stronger", such a cliche, but it rings true to many a people, in my case it's to the contrary.
I was born in south asia, in a upper-middle-class family. Till the age of four; life consisted of playing with girl servants, waiting till my dad arrived from work so I could wrap my arms around him and tell him of all the things I had done the previous week. (he worked as a doctor, but also was in partnership of a lucrative coal exporting and importing Co.)
I went to a prestigious english private school and did quite well, I loved school, I was extremely inquisitive in nature. I wanted to come top in class always so that my dad would feel proud of me, I think I was always competing for my dad's affection because even at a young age I knew that my older brother was the apple of my mom's eye. Though mom would never deprive me of any material things, I knew she withheld affection from me; she would rarely hug me (even in photos, she appears so stillted) or say I love you.
If I recall correctly I think I was about 6 years old, when I first witnessed my mom's 3rd suicide attempt. My mom discovered that my dad was having an affair with some high-profile prostitute, she went into the toilet and took several sleeping pills, (this was after she confronted my dad, and he hit her for accusing him of cheating even though the evidence that correlated her suspicions were induspituable). My aunt and uncle shortly arrived to our house (my brother who was crying hysterically called them-- I guess he understood the full gravity of the situation). Soon the house was in caos, the bathroom door had to be knocked down and mom was quickly rushed to the hospital to get her stomach pumped, but no ambulance was called as this would arise suspicion and would tarnish our good name. Mom and dad reconciled, not only to maintain appearances, but mom felt that it was God punishing her for going against her family's wish and marrying "beneath her".
We soon moved to live in NZ, because dad was getting death threats, from goons as we were becoming too wealthy too soon.
I hated living in NZ, I missed having servants, and my old friends, I was often subject to racist remarks "go back to your own country" and "do you eat curry, you curry muncha" by my peers. I was often bullied by the girls, but the boys used to like me, I think it's because I developed earlier than most girls. When I was in middle school, life was hell, I had no friends and lunchtimes would be spent in the library or trying to find "hiding spots'.
Life at home wasnt any better, mom felt isolated as Dad was rarely home, and she detested doing house work and raising children. Dad had another affair with a white woman, when mom threathened to leave him, he threw a shoe at her head, and she started bleeding profusely. Dad bandaged the wound, and the following day we all acted as if nothing happened.
In 2000, we moved to Australia, I went to an all girls high school, and once again I was subject to bullying, all I did was study, but soon suffered from an eating disorder (anorexia), after a speedy recovery, I had to change to another girls highschool; still no friends and all I did was study. I graduated as dux of my school and got into the university of my choice and the course.
As soon as I got into uni, I was bombarded with attention, as before I had a curfew at 4.10pm, I had to go straight to school and back, wasn't allowed to have a mobile phone or talk to any anyone, (I never had a sleep over). Guys were checking me out, wanting my number, whistling etc ( I secretly loved the attention, after all I just came out from a jungle of isolation). I was utterly shocked as I couldn't figure out (attributed to being socially inept) why only the "alpha-males" were pursuing me, as I never had a bf before, never went clubbing, or did any of the things people do these days. But I later came to the knowledge that was because I was just a wager "you were just a target set by older guys I had to reach".
I guess I shouldn't really complain, as there are people who are far worse than me, and I should be grateful that I even have a family who provided me with what I need. Even though I endured unrequited love, betrayal, abuse, at least I experienced the pseudo-euphoria of love, and at my darkest times I gain solace form the fact at least I have air in my lungs.