Zotona
14-05-2005, 22:48
Everyone has a sob story/tragedy in their life. What's yours?
I grew up in a divorce situation, which was totally caused by my mother's pregnancy with me. My biological father was a jerk whose every interaction with me was manipulation to use me as a tool to hurt my mother. I remember one time when he grabbed my (half) brother, who had absolutely nothing to do with the situation. HE DRAGGED MY BROTHER INTO IT! When he hurt me, (emotionally) I still could not recognize that he was the absolute enemy because sometimes he would do nice stuff for me, and other people acted like he was a god I should worship or something.
I was sexually harassed in Kindergarten by a little boy only one year older than me, and the school did absolutely nothing about it, except keep him out of my class the rest of my public schooling career. He ended up DATING a girl in my girl scout troop! I can only imagine the intensity of one's self-hate that would accept him as their boyfriend.
My biological father died when I was 8. I blamed him, myself, and finally, "God". Then I realized I never believed in "God" in the first place. I also realized I didn't care about his death, and I would have a better life without him. Then I felt guilty about that. At the same time, people acted like he was a perfect angel, confusing me greatly, causing me to feel even more guilty about my hatred for him. One of my best friends moved away, my turtle disappeared, and his crazy girlfriend cussed out my mother AND my grandmother and took the dog which I had trained to sit, stay, come here, and even almost roll over with only a picture book for reference and no positive reinforcement from any other adult. (Which means I managed to keep him trained even though I only had every other weekend to work with him!)
I started hating the world, bullying little boys my own age just because I knew I could get away with it, focusing only on my studies, and shutting all of my friends out. I wrote to escape reality, everything from poetry to short stories to lengthy novels. I tried to express my religious/philosophical views to all those around me, but realized that they were unacceptable because of my enviroment (Alabama). I still rebelled a bit, but only to an acceptable degree.
Life was okay for me until the start of middle school. I loved school, but public middle school was torture for me. By the end of the first semester, I wished I were dead. The only reason I did not kill myself was because of my responsibilities to my friends and family. My life-long best friend was so a part of the superficial "popular" crowd that she actually considered trying out for the cheerleading squad JUST BECAUSE HER OTHER FRIENDS WERE. I was disgusted with her. Academically, I started off the year with all "A"s and "B"s and ended it with a "D" which was almost an "F" in social studies. That was unacceptable. I was GIFTED. I tried harder than almost anyone else in the entire school. The only people who were academically above me previously were kids who got special treatment because their parents were rich or teachers at the school. I couldn't stand it. The thought of going to school made me physically ill. I used up all my sick days. (You only get something like 25 per school year in my old middle school.) My shrink wanted me medicated, the very idea of which caused me even more depression. I made a deal with my parents that if I went to school and finished the SATs, I could start homeschooling immediately thereafter. I took it, but I still could not bring myself out of bed in the morning. My parents (who don't believe in physical violence in any way, shape, or form) went to extreme measures to make sure I got out of bed. They beat me on the foot with a shoe every morning until I gave in. I could have taken that physical pain for the rest of my life, but watching my mother do nothing about it killed me and broke me emotionally. It still brings tears to my eyes to think about it.
The (somewhat) happy ending to the story is that I started homeschooling and became a much happier person.
I grew up in a divorce situation, which was totally caused by my mother's pregnancy with me. My biological father was a jerk whose every interaction with me was manipulation to use me as a tool to hurt my mother. I remember one time when he grabbed my (half) brother, who had absolutely nothing to do with the situation. HE DRAGGED MY BROTHER INTO IT! When he hurt me, (emotionally) I still could not recognize that he was the absolute enemy because sometimes he would do nice stuff for me, and other people acted like he was a god I should worship or something.
I was sexually harassed in Kindergarten by a little boy only one year older than me, and the school did absolutely nothing about it, except keep him out of my class the rest of my public schooling career. He ended up DATING a girl in my girl scout troop! I can only imagine the intensity of one's self-hate that would accept him as their boyfriend.
My biological father died when I was 8. I blamed him, myself, and finally, "God". Then I realized I never believed in "God" in the first place. I also realized I didn't care about his death, and I would have a better life without him. Then I felt guilty about that. At the same time, people acted like he was a perfect angel, confusing me greatly, causing me to feel even more guilty about my hatred for him. One of my best friends moved away, my turtle disappeared, and his crazy girlfriend cussed out my mother AND my grandmother and took the dog which I had trained to sit, stay, come here, and even almost roll over with only a picture book for reference and no positive reinforcement from any other adult. (Which means I managed to keep him trained even though I only had every other weekend to work with him!)
I started hating the world, bullying little boys my own age just because I knew I could get away with it, focusing only on my studies, and shutting all of my friends out. I wrote to escape reality, everything from poetry to short stories to lengthy novels. I tried to express my religious/philosophical views to all those around me, but realized that they were unacceptable because of my enviroment (Alabama). I still rebelled a bit, but only to an acceptable degree.
Life was okay for me until the start of middle school. I loved school, but public middle school was torture for me. By the end of the first semester, I wished I were dead. The only reason I did not kill myself was because of my responsibilities to my friends and family. My life-long best friend was so a part of the superficial "popular" crowd that she actually considered trying out for the cheerleading squad JUST BECAUSE HER OTHER FRIENDS WERE. I was disgusted with her. Academically, I started off the year with all "A"s and "B"s and ended it with a "D" which was almost an "F" in social studies. That was unacceptable. I was GIFTED. I tried harder than almost anyone else in the entire school. The only people who were academically above me previously were kids who got special treatment because their parents were rich or teachers at the school. I couldn't stand it. The thought of going to school made me physically ill. I used up all my sick days. (You only get something like 25 per school year in my old middle school.) My shrink wanted me medicated, the very idea of which caused me even more depression. I made a deal with my parents that if I went to school and finished the SATs, I could start homeschooling immediately thereafter. I took it, but I still could not bring myself out of bed in the morning. My parents (who don't believe in physical violence in any way, shape, or form) went to extreme measures to make sure I got out of bed. They beat me on the foot with a shoe every morning until I gave in. I could have taken that physical pain for the rest of my life, but watching my mother do nothing about it killed me and broke me emotionally. It still brings tears to my eyes to think about it.
The (somewhat) happy ending to the story is that I started homeschooling and became a much happier person.