#the bpd thing was supposed to be a JOKE but bitch we are not LAUGHING anymore

[sunsetsover]

imagine my face last night when i (extensive history of suicidal ideation) (has chronically felt lonely and unloved for my whole life) (daughter of an alcoholic) (biggest fear for most of my life was ending up an alcoholic) (has actually witnessed someone drink themselves to death) (also actively drunk at the time) sat down to watch episode four of only friends only for the episode to open with ray trying to kill himself because he felt so unloved and lonely and was petrified of ending up like his mum, who later in the episode was revealed to have drunk herself to death. just imagine my face.

[justemotionalabusethings]

{Before I begin this is really heavy. I’m talking suicide and shit man its intense}

Hi! My story is a long and sort of confusing one. I guess we begin at my first sister’s birth.

My father left me when I was really young. He wasn’t ready to be a father and fled for his life. Leaving me with just my grandparents and my mother.

After a while a new man was introduced into my life to fulfill this father role I needed. I was really shy with him until he got me a toy train for Christmas!

I don’t remember much of my childhood (which could be due to csa since signs are coming up here and there) but I remember a lot changed after my first little sister was born.

She was his biological daughter so I guess that meant there was no more room for me and I was only baggage in the marriage. He would taunt me day after day. He’d compare me to dogs and laugh when I ran away crying. He abused all the pets I had. My cat, my dog, and my hamsters. He watched scary movies with me and would then only fuel my nightmares. He’d make me clean everything and then get upset when I got irritated. He’d let me pretty much starve if I didn’t eat what he made or terrify me by saying someone was going to hurt me. To this day I can’t look at Hamburger Helper or Multigrain Cheerios.

At night I was terrified that he would hurt my mother because of his drinking problem. I would always be awake for some reason and hear them fighting about it.

As my family grew, it got to the point where I didn’t feel accepted. Where I’d look into the bedroom and see his daughters huddled around a father that loved them with a wife that he loved. I felt like I could run away and no one would miss me. Like they’d be happier.

During that time I was also being horribly bullied at school. It seemed like no matter what we did or the school did it wouldn’t stop. I got horrible depressed and was even suicidal.

His abuse ended when he made a wrong move and got arrested, effectively getting himself kicked out for good.

I was a pretty happy child after he left. The only thing that scared me then was middle school.

And I was in no way prepared for it.

In middle school I met a girl. We did one of the usual ice breakers in class. Seeing as pretty much everyone from my elementary school had bullied me I asked her about helping me find my way. We soon clicked and were spending a lot of time together because our schedules were almost identical. The only difference in our 9 period schedule was the 2 electives.

Everything was fine I believe. I made friends with her and I loved her more than words could say. She taught me how to be a rebel and how to break rules and do what you want. How not to let feelings hold you back but make them let you go.

Although everything changed in the January of 7th grade.

My mom had never wanted to give me a phone until I was sixteen so I wasn’t on any social media or anything. I pretty much just spent all my time reading.

But my friend got me to convince my mom to get Skype. Once there I was able to talk to my friends whenever I wanted.

From there we started to world build and role play.

After that I remember the abuse really started happening and to this day I’m not sure why.

She used me as a slave basically (funny bc when I tell people that they say that’s wrong bc she’s black and I’m white. Which is wrong bc I’m mixed aka black and white). It began with her just asking me to hold a few things. Then it quickly escalated to everyday I was forced to hold her shit on top of my own. Her lunchbox, her binder and my binder, her book bag and my book bag, and her lunchbox all up the stairs to our lockers which were right next to each other’s. Eventually she started asking our mutual friend to hold my stuff and they refused to let me do that, the sweet thing.

She humiliated me a lot by saying stuff or screaming wrong stuff about me. I have a horrible trigger that I can’t avoid because of her. Everyday if I did something wrong or something she didn’t like, or if I looked annoying I guess, she’d call me a failure. Everyday. And now I can’t escape that word. It sucks man.

She hurt me a lot too. She’d pinch me and I have a very specific memory of her pinching the back of my neck and when I said it hurt she said: “Well it’s not supposed to feel like sunshine so keep smiling.”

I was afraid of her. So afraid of my best friend. God my soul friend. I hate the word soul mate because she was always gushing about how we were soul friends and meant to be together and how much she loved me. It fucks me up some days.

I never knew what I’d encounter any day. After a while I stopped going to after-school activities because she would get pissed at me if I went to them instead of being online talking to her. My teachers started to look down on me for that. Thinking I was not trustworthy or saying I’d show up and then not. But it wasn’t my fault. I was only scared I’d get hurt.

I used to be glad I didn’t kill myself in elementary school because I was happy to be with her. But I feel like it would’ve been easier to end everything there.

I felt like she liked my mutual friend so much better and it brought me back to my step father loving my half sister more than me.

It even got to the point where I felt like she was trying to drive this friend away from me. She’d tell them things that I didn’t do and I’d be too scared to speak up for myself.

I was too scared to get anything to make myself look and feel nicer. I got my nails done one time since my family noticed I was getting sad again but the next day at school she insulted me. She said the exact words; “Why would you get something your friend wouldn’t like?” I think that’s when I realized it was abuse too. Why would someone who loves you say that?

She never for cared me or my problems either so I went silent. I didn’t come to her at all because there was no point in it. No point in being ignored.

I used to call myself a servant but even that was too much of a high status for her. She began throwing her trash at me and forcing me to pick it up or I’d get pinched.

Even calling her seemed like a chore for her. She’d make me promise to call her and once I did she wouldn’t pay attention at all. She’d listen to music or be on some social media. She knew it was hard for me to call because my mom wouldn’t let me call after school. Yet even when we were away from each other she mistreated me. She’d curse at me and insult me under her breath and say ‘good bitch’ when I told her I heard it. But of course. It was always from character to character.

I slipped further and further into the depression (funny because this only happened until near the end of 7th grade and all started in January). I stopped telling my other friend about anything. And I didn’t try to leave the friendship with her because I didn’t want to leave our mutual friend.

I couldn’t even do my schoolwork unless she was right there with me. But only to distract me. I remember I had to go get a project in for health so I wouldn’t fail the course and she almost stopped me from going because she didn’t have a library pass. I ended up going and getting it in but I later found (Thanks to a nice smack on the back of the head and multiple pinches throughout a 45 minute class) that she couldn’t go and was mad. Even though I told her I had to get the project in.

This went on until June. I finally broke down after a horrible day with her. It all started with a simple joke. I was used to her pointing it out when I made typos or spelled something wrong. On that day she spelled something wrong and I jokingly pointed it out. She got pissy and I quickly apologized but afterwards she wanted a hug. I didn’t want to give her one because well, I was having problems, and didn’t feel comfortable hugging. She got mad and when into his whole thing about how: “You have to do what your friend wants you to do even if it makes you uncomfortable.” Which is so messed up…

But at lunch she began getting physical and pinching me and digging her nails into me and kicking me under the table until I finally decided that I’d tell her.

She dragged me outside and I embarrassedly explained that I was on my period and didn’t want to hug anyone. She got really mad and literally beat me up right there in broad daylight in the ‘playground’ more like tiny grass area of the school! (Spoiler Alert: I don’t think the school ever believed me because no one came forward to say they had seen the action. Most likely because she scares everyone.)

I broke down in the bathroom and told my mom and grandmother and they contacted the school. It was a messy process and she hated me afterwards but I was away.

Or… so I thought.

During those months I had started cutting. I cut to make it go away.

So I was online and somehow came across a call out post for that very friend.

I was appalled at what I saw as it mentioned how she caused a minor to relapse into self harm. I was horrified and scared that somehow, probably by her bragging or lying, someone found out I had been cutting.

I came into contact to tell her off but I soon fell back into her trap.

It wasn’t as bad I’d say but she still did damage. She lied to my new friends online and told them that I had saved her pictures, I was coping her accent, and basically stalking her just because I told this abusive friend that I had a crush on her.

The crush cut contact and it killed me considering I was working through my feelings for other girls at the time and none of that was true.

At school she was tolerable but online not at all. She’d vague about me and insult me yet put on a sweet face. And then she’d tell our mutual friends all this fake shit about me.

My guardians went to the school and they were mad at me for going back but they don’t understand. She was my first friend in a long time. I couldn’t leave especially when I felt so guilty.

I truly got away and moved to high-school. I found out that I most likely have bpd and my fp is that mutual friend who decided to stay friends with me after my abusive friend told them off for helping me through my suicidal feelings.

I developed a really big crush on them and right now we’re really close friends and I love them so much for everything they do for me. They’re really adorable too. The sweetest and cutest nugget.

Of course I wish I could end the story like that, gushing about my fp, but it doesn’t end there folks! Because I’ve noticed over the summer before the beginning of ninth grade, which was last summer, that my mom is abusive.

I could go on and on about how’s she’s an asshole. She fits the criteria for emotional abuse almost perfectly with some physical thrown in. I would talk about but as I’m not the victim, and only a victim of child endangerment from being in the same home as her, I don’t feel like it’s my place to share my feelings. Although it does affect me a lot to be here.

I’m still stuck in this abusive home. My first therapist said I show signs of ptsd during our first meeting lol. But I probably have c-ptsd. I have BPD, ADHD and I’m hypersexual to sex repulsed on the constant. Oh yeah I have psychosis too which is acting up. Not to mention I’m 15 and struggling to find my identity. Am I a boy or girl? Do I like girls or not? I do not know.

I guess you can see why abuse is my life story. I have no story beside it. Only abuse and that one sexual harassment issue.

Sometimes I want to die, and sometimes I want a better life. I don’t have a therapist or psychiatrist since I moved which was hard because I LOVED my therapist. I trusted her so much that I was going to open up to her before.

I still struggle with feelings of guilt and such and some days it’s so hard to keep going I don’t find a point. But when I’m with my fp for example I feel more alive than ever. I feel like I can do anything.

I want to thank everyone who reads this and feel free to shoot me a message or something.

Just know that I believe in you. We’re all scarred and scared here. We all have bandaid’s holding together our pieces of broken glass. And one day… those pieces will start to fuse together again and our sharp edges will dull. We’ll be safe, happy and grateful we got through it.

To anyone stuck in a abusive relationship pls tell someone, or call someone. Even if they can’t help you like CPS or something let it out. Don’t bottle it in because it’ll only hurt more.

If I can’t end my story with a happy ending, I hope at least the ending of one of yours does. Because you all deserve a happy ending.