my father tried to kill me when i was 6 years old. he beat me and told me i was worthless. i cried about him to my mom and she laughed at me. my brother molested me because my parents refused to teach him boundaries. when i told my parents they said it was my fault for not avoiding him. i started hurting myself at 8 years old. i first thought about killing myself that same year. i first got put in a psych ward at 11 for planning to jump in front of a train. my mom found my developing body too provocative and groped me to prove that point. my dad got his head run over by a motorcycle when i was 12. i watched a ventilator artifically inflate his braindead body with oxygen in the ICU. my mom guilted me into fulfilling his desire for me to go to the prestigious high school right next to the college he had recently graduated from. i hallucinated him in the street all of my freshman year. i woke up convinced he was coming back to life and was going to hurt me. at 14 i got into a relationship with someone my age who taught me where to go online to talk to predators and send them pictures of my body. he introduced me to self harm forums and made me learn how deep people can actually cut. i developed an addiction to cutting myself deeper and deeper. over the course of six years my mom caught me cutting myself or with healing wounds on my body several times, each time escalating her reactions and imposing harsher surveillance tactics. at 17 she trashed my room and told me to get out of her house. i was sent out into the snow and tried suffocating myself with a plastic bag in an underpass. she called the cops on me so i'd be taken to the psych ward. i was going to be sent a group home but they didn't take my insurance. my mom sat through my intake and blew up at me for answering that yes, i had been abused. she whispered to herself "abuse, abuse, abuse." now i'm 20 and still live with my mom and brother. i dont know when i'm going to be financially capable of moving out on my own. i am paralyzed with fear listening to my brother move about the hallway. there are security cameras all over my home, including in my room, to prevent me from getting to properly hurt myself, which is the only way i feel in control over my body. it's the only way i can reclaim what has been stolen from me in so many ways. my mom leaves produce out to rot and swarm with flies. my room isn't in a much better state. it hasn't been cleaned in years. i was raised by filth and now i am filth. my skin is red with pustules and my teeth are filled with cavities. i can go outside and distract myself but at the end of the day i come back and i lay on my soiled mattress with dirty dishes strewn about with my contaminated body and contaminated soul and i know nothing is ever going to scrub me clean.
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