#childhood bullying tw

[oblique-lane]

"Just a bunch more biblical paintings then I'll go back to drawing yaoi" Or you can do both, renaissance style, Michelangelo or Raphael I honestly forgot who drew those naked men on the Sistine Chapel's ceilings ok bad joke aside: I'd love hearing more about your headcannons, specifically about the childhoods of the characters (ranging from the mercs, to Miss pauling, the Administrator, hell anyone you have ideas about!)

Childhood headcanons... How did you know I've had something about that on my mind? Alright, let's talk about...

Little Sniper

(Lots of trigger warnings ahead, check tags!)

Mundy was obviously an unhappy child. When I imagine the surroundings he grew up in, I see miles and miles of empty landscapes, dry yellow grass, unkept barns destroyed by rust and a deep choking sense of loneliness.

The closest neighbour woul be so far away you better bring a bicycle with you if you want to visit. School and Church were the only places to go, which were also very far away. No kids his age nearby. And even if there were peers at school, no one wanted him anyway.

Mundy was "weird", he didn't quite understand other kids' jokes, didn't get what was so fun about what everyone else enjoying to do; he was weaker, always loosing in close fights; he didn't even look very local for whatever reason. Even if he tried to get along with someone, it either ended up with him being ostracized or with him experiencing the greatest boredom imaginable. And the kids quickly picked up on his "difference", making him an object of bullying.

It started with making fun of everything Mundy does, his habits and speech patterns, his morals and ideas... Which wasn't anything too big for him but it was still very annoying and upsetting, he grew to hate school very quickly.

Coming home being exhausted from this kind of socializing, no one would really comfort him. Being very little, he used to tell on his bullies to his parents, telling how hurt he was by their words... And it would only made a mess in his family.

Overreactive mother: "Poor baby, I'm so sorry, I'll tell their parents to stop being mean, my little little baby, maybe we can go homeschooling..."

And a strict father: "Are you a man or what? Yeah, he will end up a bloody baby if you keep spoiling him like that! Suck it up! Of you can't stand for yourself, no one will. At this pace you'll end up a nobody, with no home nor respect from the world".

Mundy didn't want to be neither a baby nor a disappointment. He figured that sharing his feelings with parents wouldn't be that good of an idea, they won't understand anyway. And also that he must fight somehow.

If he can't win in close fights, he thought, he could hit them from a distance: throwing small rocks at the bullies from up the tree...

–He was punished for that. For some reason, every time Mundy fought back, he was scolded by the elders, who for some reason always believed the bullies that HE was the one starting the fights. They forbid him to fight back. He closed his feelings shut and stopped paying attention to almost everything around him.

Why was it like that? Why was he so different from other kids, why couldn't he understand them? Why couldn't he understand anyone in this world? The world was a mess of unspoken rules and suffering, overcoming oneself, pain; he couldn't fit in. He was always on the wrong even if he didn't do anything. He felt like an outsider everywhere he went.

Sometimes he wondered if he was born into a wrong family or that he wasn't a human at all. Looking at the night sky, he was thinking about aliens, maybe they would come to him someday and take him to the planet he truly belongs, being accidentally swapped at birth. Maybe then he will be happy, he will leave this sickening place and finally start living. He thought about dying, too.

He started to spend a lot of time in the forest any chance he got. He was alone here, unwatched, somewhat free. It was easier to breathe here. He was alone but it didn't feel worse than being with those people. He played by himself. He started to believe that he actually liked loneliness.

As Mundy and his peers grew older, the kids started to become more and more savage, thanks to the hormones and age crisis. Bullying intensified as those kids started to feel the need to assert themselves. Mundy was maliciously beaten (he fought back as much as he could and even win sometimes, but the beating only got worse each time). They used any chance to humiliate him.

And each time after that Mundy would take the knife or his father's shotgun and go to the forest to take his anger on animals, "hunting", since he couldn't do anything to fix the root of the problem.

He would hunt for something small, like birds or feral rabbits so he could butcher them and cook on fire to eat. At moments like this he felt like a beast, and somehow it was the most pleasant state for him to be in.

There were no words available to form his pain into, so the pain came through violence. The more violent his abusers became, the more violent he was at his "hunting". The more he felt his father's gaze piercing him with disappointment, the sharper his knife movements would get. Sometimes he would let the bodies to just rot like that, completely butchered in a very non-culinary way.

(Maybe someday he would lure one of those bastards to the forest and kill him the same way and blame it on an animal attack)

And at some point... His classmates would came up with something that would cross all the lines of forgivable. Somewhere there was the peak of what they could do. Something beyond.

There wasn't a known way to him to deal with that. No known words. Everyone would be so grossed out of him if they knew. He was beyond disgusted with himself, too. What was the point of living now?

That day he would shot a wild boar, take his machete out and cut it open, butcher it the way his father would when they wanted a pork dinner for the night... And reached to its heart.

The heart is where the love is stored, right? That's what people say when referring to this "love" he'd never seem to know. A dark read bloody organ that feels like sponge inside of thin rubber. There's something about this that Mundy lacks. He has a heart too, it's pulsating inside him, but for some reason it was unable to produce the "love", a very necessary fluid for a human body. He wondered if it's sweet. He wondered if he was even able to taste it.

He took a bite... And realized what he was doing.

He was, indeed, a monster.

When he went back home, later than usual, he would be met with his father's gaze. He was always throwing gazes, for every occasion, Mundy was used to feel small and guilty under them. But this time... It felt somehow much more personal. More disturbing.

His father looked at him as if he was a dirty little creature, a rat, a maggot. He looked at him the way one would look at a criminal who wronged their whole family. He looked at him like he knew.

His father didn't say anything that day and it wasn't brought up ever again.

Mundy was indeed a monster who was utterly terrified of this though. He didn't want to be one. He made a promise to himself that everything he does will be morally justified, he promised himself to become a good... decent person. He would earn his place in the world, even if his father, everyone else denies it.

It gets blurry at this point. Sniper doesn't really remember his life before about 17, when he was finishing school and starting to work on his sniper licence. For some reason he always knew he would be good at shooting and killing. When remembering his home, Sniper would recall the smell of grass, mother's cooking, the warm sun, and a steady life he had. He knew it was boring, but it still somehow felt like home. Home he felt was lost somewhere he didn't remember.

Either way, he was always a loner.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Why König Was Bullied/ Why He Loved His Family

TW: Severe Bullying, Kids Being Cruel, Severe Social Anxiety, Growing Up Mentally Ill, Chronic Feelings of Being Unsafe, Unstable Environments Growing Up, Isolation, Loneliness, Self Esteem Issues, Anxiety, Social Anxiety,

I'm gonna say it. I think König actually had a great childhood home. He wasn't bullied because he was an abused child, he was bullied because he was a socially awkward kid raised by socially awkward parents. He was bullied because he was chubby (his mama loved giving him sweets) and because he was weirdly big and not in a hot way, just in a lumpish oaf sort of way.

On his own, König loved to keep his own company. He would make up imaginary worlds in his mind and play with stuffed animals and model trains. He read fantasy books, and became an advanced reader for his age. He loved learning as much as he could about the world around him, and his Oma nicknamed him 'her little Why' when he would never stop asking why things were the way they were. He loved to play outside most of all. Almost all his free time was spent outdoors, and he developed a deep love of nature, hiking and camping.

Kids are cruel, and one kid looking a little bit awkwardly proportioned and being awkward to boot was the perfect target. It didn't help that (especially in the beginning) he just liked to do his own thing, regardless of what others thought. He liked playing with his stuffed bears and rabbits at recess and he loved to read more than he liked to play sports. He was a bit awkward in both speech and body, growing too big for his body to adjust to too quickly and always a bit nervous to speak to others, leaving him a lonely child with nobody to play with. Nobody wanted to play with a boy who still played with stuffed animals or played imaginary games with himself. He was the kid who would call himself the dog when kids played house. He had to hold other kids' coats at recess just to be acknowledged.

König had a hard childhood due to the isolation. Kids got crueller when puberty set in, and they got more overt with their bullying. It didn't help that König hit puberty early and shot up like a reed. He grew strangely thick facial hair for a twelve-year-old, and people would pluck hairs out of his face when he wasn't on guard. After his growth spurt, shoves and nasty playground names became black eyes and rumours traded between classes. Everywhere he looked people watched him, talked about him, scorned him. He developed mild scopophobia, and the fear still lingers with him in adulthood.

König always had the potential of developing social anxiety. Just genetics, really. But growing up in a poorly equipped rural town didn't help. He didn't fit in, and for that he was tormented throughout life. Bullies would find out who his crush was and kiss them when he walked by in the halls. Girls would ask him out, and when he eagerly accepted they would laugh in his face. Worst of all was how they'd torment him for startling easily, and laugh whenever he physically lashed out in a panic. They loved to scare poor König, and did whatever they could to get a reaction out of him. He learned to keep his emotions guarded and to himself, but he still tears up when he thinks about how they once set his stuffed rabbit on fire after school. Whenever König felt like he'd learned to take it all, something else would come along and remind him that no, he would never fit in, and he would never be safe.

König grew up to be cold, harsh and cynical. He refused to let others play with his emotions. He became hardened as a man. However, deep inside of König, there was always a little boy who just wanted to read fantasy books and play with his stuffed animals in peace. He took to taking long hikes and camping outside when he needed time away from home. As a preteen, he was humiliated by how fat he seemed as a child, and horrified by how thin and lanky he became as he matured, so he began working out vigorously and filled out into a powerful, handsome young man. When girls would ask him out as a teen, he'd scoff and shoo them off, even though they genuinely wanted to be with him. He'd been burned too many times to know when someone truly wanted him. He didn't realize that he was a highly intelligent, strapping teen that had become a heartthrob among some of the other socially outcast children. Sadly, König would never learn, instead focusing on how his bullies would mock his height from afar (they'd long since learned that fighting a 200 lb young man who learned to fight from a war vet was not a good idea after all). But no matter how much König tried to get out from under their thumb, his bullies ruled his life.

But while school was a battleground, every day this brave little soldier would march home into his mother's open arms. His father would be there to remind him of how strong he was, how proud he was of his little soldier son. Home was his sanctuary away from the war outside.

König's mother was very much a housewife. A big, tall (at least 6'1) woman with broad arms and a powerful jaw, Annabelle Leichenberg looked more like a warrior princess than she did the sweet and doting mother that she was. She was always a bit awkward in the village, and many other mothers made fun of her for being harsh and dismissive in her exchanges of village gossip. She was a practical woman who had no time for their prattling nonsense. All her time was spent doting upon her loving family. She was a dutiful, determined woman who never backed down from a challenge. Despite working in the next village over, she would spend as much time as she could with König and her four other children. She would teach König to braid his sisters' hair, and played card games with him and his brothers late at night. She made sure his siblings never picked on him too much, and she spoiled him rotten with strawberries from the garden. To this day, König swears up and down that nobody makes strawberry tarts quite like his mother.

Contrary to his brash and outspoken wife, König's father, Fritz Leichenberg, was a quiet and studious man. He was the tallest man in the village by far, but he was a shy and soft man who preferred his books and his record player to the drunken sports rallies every Friday night, making the other village men consider him effeminate and weak. König's father was a professor of agriculture, and so preferred to spend time in his garden with his wife or reading stories to his children. He was surprisingly soft-spoken for his size, and seemed to always be shrinking away from conversation, preferring the company of his many houseplants to the boisterous drunks at the bar. Fritz liked to play piano on the baby grand in the foyer, and the family would gather and sing around him (Annabelle could never hold a tune, but Fritz never seemed to mind). Fritz was the major disciplinarian in the household, but it seemed his punishments were composed more of long lectures and discussions than spankings that the other children at school got. König was very close to his father, and learned from him the strength of being comfortable with his masculinity, and learned how to be gentle from him. He originally wanted to be a professor like him, but became a soldier when his grandfather passed away.

König had a good relationship with his siblings. He was the second youngest of five. The eldest was Friedrich, then Stephan and Lisa, then König (Kilgore), then finally Klara. König's brothers were awkward, but they fought back hard against their adversaries. Lisa was actually rather popular among her age group, and she managed to keep people in her age bracket from targeting König as well. The brothers and Lisa tried their best to protect König, and even his younger sister ended up becoming a defender and prevented her classmates from targeting her brother. König loved his siblings, but even they could be cruel to him on occasion (particularly when they had friends over). However, they cared for him as a sibling, and they did their best to ensure he was always safe at home.

König also lived with his Oma and Opa (on his father's side). His Opa was a veteran, and taught all the children how to fight. He took a shine to König in particular, and tried his best to encourage his grandson to stand up for himself. His Oma was a bit more skeptical. She loved König, but she always worried about him. She would often try to get him to make new friends, but sadly these efforts were in vain.

So all in all, life was not all doom and gloom for König. He grew up a social outcast, but in a loving home. He's fiercely loyal to his family, and skeptical of anyone he does not consider to be of that ilk. He will always be paranoid, he will always be afraid of people watching him, and he will always have that horrible trait of being ruder than he intends to be. But, in the end, he was loved and raised in a good home.

Bonus:

On König's first day of school, his mother bought him a toy. It became a tradition that every first day of school, she would buy him something special. With all the years that passed, most of these things were broken or lost, but he kept the wooden train set his mother gave him on his very first day.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Boiling hot take, but we're never going to be able to tackle the problem of bullying, especially in schools but also in general, unless we address the fact that some people, especially some kids, are just… not that great to be around.

And that's not always their fault.

Like, as an autistic adult, when I look back on the ways I was treated as a kid, on the one hand I think "fuck that was shitty to live through", but on the other hand, I kinda get it?

I was loud and regularly called out in class or interrupted people when they were talking.

I had a narrow range of interests that I was very interested in, and wasn't great at recognising when the person I was discussing them with wanted to talk about something else.

I couldn't judge my tone of voice and so things I said often came across as insulting when I didn't mean them to.

I was highly opinionated and argumentative.

I would sometimes lash out at people physically (when provoked).

I growled and hissed at people like a cat when I wanted them to go away, because I didn't know how to communicate that in human terms.

I used to hit and bite myself when I felt frustrated, and a couple of times threatened to hurt myself during stressful social interactions.

I had a loose grasp of personal hygiene.

Was any of this a justifiable excuse for bullying me? No. I was a kid, struggling with a brain that was structured very differently to everyone else's. I didn't even know what I was doing wrong a lot of the time. I had a disability.

But was this a justifiable excuse for not wanting to hang out with me? Fuck yeah.

Like, I would have liked it better if I'd been able to have close friends in primary school (without the teachers having to literally set up a structured group of people who were willing to befriend me, complete with weekly meetings where we discussed our social issues with an adult mediator present)? Yeah. That would have been great.

But I was also weird and unpredictable and gross and inconsiderate, and I wouldn't have wanted to hang out with me either. The other kids didn't owe me their friendship. (Even though, again, none of those things were my fault.) But that doesn't mean I deserved mistreatment.

Basically, I think there would be less bullying if we had more preschool books and Very Special Episodes about how to handle interacting with people who are essentially harmless, but who you don't really want to be friends with all the same.

Get rid of the dichotomy in kids media where everyone is either deliberately and purposefully being unpleasant because they can, OR Just Like You with no annoying or unpleasant traits whatsoever.

Sometimes people just are Annoying. It sucks. But part of living in a society is learning to walk away from those people and leave them be, rather than treating their existence as a personal attack.

[very-uncorrect]

Idea: Tails has scars on his tails from when people on West Side tried to both cut them off and stitch them together

[writtenroses1813]

“Its easy to blame everyone else” no no, im blaming the right person

I’m blaming the one who introduced bullying to the neighboring kids. I’m blaming the one who made it popular to “pick on” me. I’m blaming the one who had the “bright idea” to lock me out or in places. I’m blaming the one who manipulated everyone and lied her way out of punishment. I’m blaming the one who made me cry myself to sleep. I’m blaming the one who peer pressured my sister away from me. I’m blaming the one who began the eight years of torture.

[batwynn]

It’s wild to me that I went from loving bugs and frogs and what people generally consider ‘ugly’ animals like vultures etc. as a young kid to disliking them because my peers loudly hated them, and my autistic ass was already terrified of being Wrong and Weird by the end of my first day in preschool. The same with the music I liked, and the movies, and the books, and hobbies, and any interests I actually had. What I didn’t stuff down early on, got bullied out of me over time until I only ‘liked’ what others liked. Did what others did.

And how it took years being away from that kind of environment to re-learn what I really liked and cared about. And even now I’m not 100% there yet. I still hide things that I like. I try not to talk about them, or draw too much of (thing), or be too excited about something. Because that’s what ✨trauma✨ does babee. 👍

Anyway. This is your gentle reminder that you can relearn to love the things you genuinely love. It’s hard, but it’s integral to getting back to feeling like yourself again after years of being someone else. It’s so worth it, I promise.

[bunnighost]

[perfektblau]

i try not to think about my gender identity issues because it's so complicated. (although someone figured i might be nonbinary 😵‍💫)

would a cis person experience gender envy? not like, "I wish I was strong as a man", but more like

"I wish I woke up as a male one day. Like this handsome guy on this photo. I want what he has. To experience how it feels to be him, even for one day.."

but I also wish I wasn't anything at all 🥲

but I live my life like I am a woman. I don't care about pronouns, she/her is fine with me,

tw: gender dysphoria, toxicity, rant

feminity sickened me when I was a teenager and in my 20s. I have some ideas why, but not sure. I wanted to set fire on things that represented feminity

even stores like Victoria's Secret sickened me, actually made me irate. it made me want to tear it up all those posters up.

puberty was such a nightmare. I think it's common that teens feel very awkward and insecure about their changes, but I think I experienced it badly. I just wanted to rip apart my changing body, I cursed cursed my body so much. my chest was what I hated the most. I was lucky that I was flat I cut my hair very short, dressed androgenously and I felt happier that way.

its just now that I feel more comfortable with feminity than I did before. that's a huge progress for me.

[tsukimefuku]

I come to say this because it’s an advice I’ve given many times in private (including today), but it might help somebody else.

For people who have been victimized and traumatized by gaslighters, narcs, etc. who always seemed to try making you feel like you were crazy or a horrible person: if you KNOW, from the bottom of your heart, that you did absolutely nothing wrong, stand your ground and refuse to take the fall (of course, do it mindfully to not put yourself in harm’s way in case this person can harm you physically or do worse).

I know it can be scary (I did live in a violent household with two gaslighters who refused to ever take accountability for any of their shit and would rather let their kid take the blame instead), but the peace of mind you’ll carry with you for remaining true to yourself and advocating for yourself is worth it, I promise.

When possible (in case that person hasn’t severed your connections to other people), talk to a trusted friend. Let them know what is going on. Fact checking with someone else can be incredibly helpful and assist you in realizing that yeah, you’re not insane, that person is just trying to gaslight you.

Don’t let them suck the light and life out of you, you deserve better.

Take care, loves 💜

[ice-devourer]

a government worker was a little mean and now im sad i hatehate hate being sensitive

[bibookdemon]

''

"Purples and blues, here, have another bruise!" A common rhyme Kaiba had heard every day in the orphanage, quickly followed by a swift fist to the face. He knew he was different. He was smart, and ambitious, and a heck of a lot better than any of the others here. That's why they targeted him. That, and his skinny build. His metabolism was too fast to let him put on any weight, especially at the young age he was.

But whatever. He could deal with it. At the end of the day, everyone was brought in for a warm, homemade meal - something he knew was a privilege in this cruel world of orphans - and a bed with never too many and never too few blankets. There was also his little brother, who got along well with the younger children. Kaiba was so proud of that tiny floof of hair. He was going to make many friends in life. He would be kind. He would be good. He would find a family soon. The only reason he hadn't was because of his annoying insistence that Kaiba stay with him. It was endearing but...Mokuba needed a place where he could get proper love. Not the love of an older brother who probably wouldn't even be able to protect him if he tried.

The Next Day

The sun was bright, birds were chirping, and everyone was going on a field trip. Well, a hike. Walk? Whatever they might consider it to be, the children were being guided on a mysterious journey - the orphanage owners' words, not his - through the surrounding forest. Kaiba couldn't say he was excited, but Moki was, and that was enough for him to gather a small smile and some sort of shred of interest.

"You ready big brother?" Moki called him over, bouncing excitedly from foot to foot. "I hope we find unicorns!"

Kaiba chuckled. "I hope so too, Moki." He ruffled the floofy hair - soft and adorable as always.

"Oh! They're going! Come on, come on!" Despite the fact that the group was moving slowly, his little brother still tugged insistently until they were well in the middle of the group. Sudden gazes landed on his shoulders, so Kaiba ushered his brother onward toward the front. No need for him to become clued in to the hatred of the others. "I'll get some dragon scales just for you!"

"Ok, you do that." He grinned, but it dropped as soon as Moki was out of eyesight. The adults were all up the front, leading, so he was stuck with no potential protection. Not that he wanted it anyway. He would never let it be said that Seto Kaiba was a snitch.

"Well, lookie here." One of the largest kids bumped his shoulder roughly. "If it isn't sir royal buttface himself. Have anything new to tell me about the world? Have you discovered that dragons exist yet?" He burst out laughing.

"Yes, in fact." Kaiba's voice was enough to stop that ridiculous noise, leaving the boy with a stupid look on his face. "I've discovered that your breath smells like something a dragon would puke up after seeing your face."

"What did you just say to me?" He stepped in front of Kaiba, stopping him. A few of his cronies crowded in a circle around the two of them, snickering.

"You heard me, pukeface."

"You little...!" His words were accentuated with a punch, then another, and another. Soon, Kaiba was cowering on the ground, a pathetic dog humiliated by a master without love or mercy. "Hah, loser. I bet you die out here like that, huh?" They all laughed once again, then started sprinting to catch up with the group.

For a long while, Kaiba laid there, silent and panting. He probably had a broken rib at best, multiple broken ribs and a concussion at worst. The way his head spun when he opened his eyes led him to believe the latter. Then, suddenly, a soothing touch.

"Are you ok?" Kaiba whipped his head around - a painful choice - to see warm brown eyes and freckled cheeks staring at him in concern. A young boy, about his age. And...a gap where his two front teeth should've been. "Hey. Can you please answer? Father wants me back before the sun falls, and it's already starting to set."

"Yes." He closed his eyes. "I'm fine." The words made pain reverberate through his body.

"No, you're not. I can tell a lie when I hear one. Alright, up you go." And then he was hoisted up into chunky arms, his gangly limbs splayed in awkward ways.

"Hey! Put me down!" He was furious, but also...was this boy kinda cute? No, no. It was the concussion. Right? The concussion? But he looked like...an angel.

"No can do. You're coming with me."

Many Years Later

"And dat, kids, is how I met ya father!" Jou grinned and patted Kaiba's back roughly, causing the man to choke on his food.

"Can you not tell this story while we're eating?" He grumbled. It was the millionth recount, the least Jou could do was tell it to the kids for a bedtime story. It wasn't even a great story! Well...it was practically a fairy tale. So he supposed it was.

"I can tell it whenever I want!" He ruffled Kaiba's hair, looking back to their children. Two of them, two beautiful children they'd had together. A boy and a girl. Jou's crazy hair and freckles, Kaiba's gangly limbs and sharp nose. Adorable.

"Then I suppose you won't mind me telling them the story of how you confessed?"

Jou's face went pale. "Dat's embarrassin'! They don't wanna hear dat!"

"We do, we do!" Little Annabelle giggled and looked to Kaiba expectantly.

"Well, your father was still very young, and very daft..."

[writtenroses1813]

Neither of my parents had healthy relationships with their siblings.

It shows.

[jube-jube-bird]

Nothing hurts more than watching your sibling get the childhood you always wanted; the parents and friends you always wished for.

You're happy for them...but you can't help but wonder why you weren't worth it.

[enbygirlblogging]

do you ever experience a wild moment of sudden empathy for everyone in the world. like yeah i knew a guy who bullied people a lot, and who i really used to hate, but then i found out he got beaten by his stepdad and watched his sister die a horrible and graphic death first-hand, and suddenly the hate didn't come so easy. yeah i knew a girl who abused me for the better half of my life, but looking back, she also definitely had no one in the world who loved her, including her own family. my issues with her are a lot more personal, but i just don't have it in me to really loathe her the way i once did. i've never had a good relationship with my father, but he never had a parent worth looking up to. and i'm not saying any of that trauma excuses being a horrible human being, and i'm not saying you have to forgive everyone who ever wronged you, or even really that you should.

but i guess i'm saying maybe i forgive the people who wronged me.

[manicpixxiedreambitch]

Day 2 of posting my art to inspire myself to make more.

This one I just drew today.

Inspiration: I was bullied terribly in elementary school. Nobody wanted to be my friend. Kids talked about me behind my back. I remember being in third grade and crying in the girls bathroom while I tried to find a way out of coming back to school. I considered faking sick, asking to be homeschooled, and unfortunately, ending it all was among the ideas I had considered. I felt like such a little alien at the time. Looking back, the memory hurts me because of the knowledge that I was only nine years old. Now, I look back at my childhood memories and grieve, because it feels like I never really had the chance to be a child. I didn’t have the milestones other kids did. I didn’t have friends around school. I didn’t have kids show up to my birthday parties. I didn’t feel like a normal kid. In another universe, I did get to have good childhood memories of school. In another universe, I was in third grade, washing my hands in the bathroom. And I didn’t want to die. Because I had friends waiting for me on the playground. I wish the little girl in that universe the best, despite my heartbreak and my jealousy of her.

[traumatizedjaguar]

trauma vent about sibling abuse and parental neglect:

my parents admitted to me that my older brother had abused me when we were only little kids/babies. my parents and brother literally admitted my brother was my abuser from as young as when I was a new born who couldn't walk or talk yet. yes, thats right, my older brother abused me when I was a new born. my brother actually said, "So what? I was only 2 years old!" they told me to get over it, but they said it nicely. :)