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I'm tired (trigger warning)

Let’s start it off here, I go by Kat, or… That’s what most people call me. I’m not a very good person to be honest, I’m pretty mean, not kind, I feel sick thinking about what I’ve done and all the stuff that happened to be. Enough of the introduction,
My parents are divorced, but before they divorced, both of them were very abusive, father was the most abusive, he hit me with bottles, anything hard or sharp he could get his hands on; and mother would always just stand back and watch it happen. She always guilted me with “this is for your own good,” or “We’re doing this because we love you,” that’s what I always told myself. They love me. They care about me. They don’t mean to hurt me. Everyday I just kept feeding myself lies, I kept feeding myself an image that my mother had created for me. An image that still haunts me to this day. The only person I really only had was my uncle.
My uncle was like an escape for me, he took me out to eat, he took me to places to have fun, he read me cool stories that I eventually became addicted to. He was like a drug to me, I clung to him an unhealthy amount; and little did I know, that’s what he wanted to happen. One day, I was laying down on his bed and he was at his desk, on the computer doing some work, when he turned around suddenly in his chair and asked me if I wanted to play a game. I said sure of course! Why wouldn’t I wanna play a game with a man who’s given me the love and support that I lacked?

One who was using me just for his own gain. He walked up to me and pinned me down to the bed, took off my clothes and raped me; and me, being around 9-8 years old, was too scared to do anything, it was so painful. One of the worst experiences of my life. I felt so much fear, so much betrayal. This… This figure painted in my life who was supposed to be someone who I should’ve LOVED… Hurt me like this. This wasn’t just a one time thing either! It happened again; and again; and again! Each time more painful than the last. It’d gone on for around 2 years and in that timespan I didn’t tell anyone, I didn’t began I was so scared. I was so god damn scared to do anything, I didn’t want anyone to look at me differently, I didn’t want anyone to think of me as a slut.
After a few years he moved out away and I never saw him again. My parents had divorced and my mother was left custody of me. Now, this is the time I began to feel so horrible, I was sick of myself. I… Had tried to kill myself many times, all failed attempts and me wishing they had succeeded.
…My mother had recieved a phonecall later. Around 2 months after the divorce; that my father was hit by a car and died on his way to the hospital. I felt… destroyed? Yeah, he abused me, but he was still my father. More and more bad things happened, because at this time I was being bullied at school, god knows how, Covid was the best thing that ever happened. It stopped schools from opening and it stopped ME from being bullied; and god help me, I just feel so horrible right now, haha, I’m sorry that I began to rant. I just… I don’t know what I’m seeking. I guess I just want someone or somewhere to vent all my frustrations; because good god.
I’m tired.


Hey @Kat1,

Thank you so much for being here and for trusting this community with your story. If I could, I’d give you a giant hug right now.

I’m so sorry you were betrayed by those people who were supposed to protect you and love you unconditionally. It should never be like this. Growing up between violent actions and words that totally contradict what’s going on is a pain that goes beyong words. Those mixed messages is something I experienced too, with my mom. I get how disturbing it is to see our parents through an image we created as a kid, for a purpose of survival. Then to grow up and realize that it was wrong, that this “weird feeling” we always had was actually very true. At some point, around the same age as you when it happened, I was sexually abused by a man. It happened repeatedly for a long time. Tried to tell my mom, she didn’t listen.

My heart goes out to you. Entirely.

Friend, those lies you fed yourself with were really a way to survive. Such as silence. But those strategies don’t have to be maintained anymore. Maybe it’s what you’re seeking by sharing all of this. Some kind of change. Something different.

You’ve been so strong to go through this. Even if it may not feel like this because you didn’t chose what happened, you are strong, certainly more that you can imagine. And feeling tired while carrying all of this is absolutely understandable. Know that it’s a privilege to hear about your story, and you don’t have to carry it alone anymore.

I don’t know if you already had the opportunity to share this with anyone before now and here, but I want you to know that none of this was your fault. You never did anything that would justify their actions. You were a kid in a chaotic environment. You did what you could to catch your breath and keep going on. Despite the pain, the tiredness, the desire to disappear sometimes, you’re here. And I can assure you, that’s a freaking victory. I’m proud of you for being here.

May I ask how is your relationship with your mom now and/or if you had the possibility to talk with her about the things that happened with your dad? But also, do you think there would be any possibility for you to see a counselor or therapist? Would your mom be okay with that?


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Thank you for the kind words.
My relationship with my mother right now is pretty toxic, we barely talk sometimes, and whenever we talk we just need something from eachother. I am currently seeing a therapist but I only talk with them over the phone because of the entire covid thing. It hasn’t given me the same feel of actually being there at the office so seeing my therapist hasn’t really helped.
I’ve talked with mother about father once, but she got so mad she sent me to my room and cried. She really loved father.

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