I had a really horrific childhood with an abusive stepfather. Getting physically hurt and verbally abused was the normal routine. I didn’t really fit in at school, so I’d go from getting picked on all day in school to getting bullied and hurt when I got home. I was locked out of the house as a five-year-old, thrown down the stairs, hit, berated, and his famous line was always, “if you tell your mother, you’ll be in more trouble.” I would go over to my real dad’s house on the weekends, and when I had bruises and marks on me, I’d lie and say my friends and I were just wrestling on the playground because I was too scared of the explosion from my stepdad if I told anyone.
I don’t know if my mom just wasn’t aware of it, or was powerless and couldn’t do anything about it. She never stood up for herself or me. He was abusive to my mom, sisters, and me. When they had kids together, I was suddenly the outsider since I came from a different marriage. I felt like I was an unwanted presence and I was essentially ostracized as life became all about my sisters. I developed the habit of living in my room with the door shut (even to this day) because the only place I feel comfortable is by myself. I just got used to thinking that if I’m by myself, no one is going to hit me and yell at me and make me feel like shit. I don’t have a lot of friends, and I can’t shake the instinct to think that everyone who I meet automatically hates me or thinks I’m a weirdo. I was actually part of the Mountains retreat in Austin, TX with HeartSupport, so I spent time meeting most of the staff, and I couldn’t shake the thought that they were all talking about how much I suck behind my back, even if I’m somewhere in my mind I’m aware that it’s not true. It’s just how I’ve been wired to think. I don’t want to have any kids because I never witnessed an example of how to treat and raise a child, I don’t have many fond memories of being a child, and because of that, I think it’s incredibly unfair to bring a kid into this world only to potentially go through the same things I did.
On several occasions within the past few years, I came very close to killing myself. I got kicked out of both bands I was in, because I was depressed, antisocial, and wasn’t practicing, I was having issues with school loans so that put a halt on finishing my degree, I couldn’t take much more of my stepdad terrorizing the household in any way he could on a daily basis, and I resolved that the world would be a better place if I wasn’t here. The most significant suicidal time was when my grandmother passed away (Who was one of my only sources of love and support. I was incredibly close to her) and I decided that I wanted to follow her out of this world too. I wrote my goodbye notes out and was ready to go. I had a dream that night where I watched in third-person my mom and sisters come in and find my body, and that was enough of a wake up call to snap me out of it for a while.
My whole life, I looked forward to the day that my mom would leave my stepdad and we’d move out. I’m still in college, so I can’t afford to move out on my own yet, and I also help my mom financially. This past Fall, my mom finally found the strength to move out and leave him. I felt free for the first time in my life knowing I’d never have to look at his face again and never feel the pain of that household again. I felt it was finally time to heal and move on. Just a little over a month ago, they reconciled and we moved back in and I have to see him every day again. It feels like a betrayal and like making backwards progress. He swears he’s changed, and I do want to get along with him and move on. I know that the Christian thing to do is to forgive, but every time I look at his face, I get taken back to memories of being a helpless little kid on the ground getting the shit beat out of me by the monster that my mom married.
At first, I kept a very good and positive attitude about moving back in. But I’m watching him and my mom act like the past 20 years of torture and abuse just didn’t happen. I’m losing my faith as I’m so used to having good things ripped away from me as soon as they arrive (that’s all the time in so many areas of my life). I feel like when I talk to God, he’s not there and doesn’t answer (I hear stories about people asking God for help and He gives signs and visions, but He’s nowhere to be found when I need Him). I’m Catholic, and this is the first year of my life that during the Lenten season, I said, “fuck Lent, I’m not even participating.” I want to ask why overall He allows bad things to happen to good people everywhere in the world, as I know that my scenario is very mild compared to what other people have to suffer through. I just feel lost and abandoned right now.
All of the anxiety, feelings of worthlessness, and desire to stray away from my faith are beginning to leak in again. I don’t even know what type of response I’m looking for, but I’ve been lost and confused.
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