Single Page Stories

The Big Picture

My parents divorced when I was 8. It was a rough divorce that included arguments, a little bit of bloodshed, namecalling, verbal abuse, and just a lot of guilt. The guilt was from me. I felt guilty because I thought it was my fault for the divorce. I wanted to see my mom happy again, but I wanted to see my dad happy. period. 

Throughout their divorce a lot of stuff happened. 

During Christmas my dad tried selling me off to my mom. No more child support payments in exchange for never seeing me again. Mom declined that offer.

My grandpa Harvey messaged my dad telling him to quit banging his boss's wife or else my dad would lose my mom and I. My dad replied "That's hard to do when she keeps putting her foot between my crotch". I was 3 years old at the time.

When I was 9, A new guy stepped in. Robert. He was my stepfather by the time I turned 10. My mother stayed married to him for almost 10 years. But only stayed WITH him for 6 1/2 of those years. 

The first year was ok. I didn't trust him, and neither did her parents. We moved a lot. So much to the point of, I don't remember where we started moving to or where we ended up that first year. 

The second year is when everything started really going downhill. He became more aggressive. Hell, he spanked me, which, I was not exactly happy about. He argued with my mom a lot, and it was the same kind of arguments my mom had with my dad. I was 12, going on 13. 

I didn't trust him again, so I moved to my dads for the first school year ever with him and his family. It. . . turned out the same. Worse. That year, I was choked by my cousin. Three times. my dad told me he wished I was a boy during a night of a party. I also watched my dad get taken down by my stepbrother cause he was super drunk during that same party. and that same night, he tried touching my private area. My stepmom also passed out on top of one of my lil sisters. There was also a LOT of arguing between him and my stepmom the entire time I was there. She even accused me of causing these arguments in hopes of breaking them up. 

I didn't stay another year after all of that. It was a lot in one year. I love my dad to death, no matter what. He's always my hero. He's always the person I look up to, even now. Even after everything. But I knew he already had a lot on his plate, and I didn't want to add more to it.

At this point, I'm 13. I felt like a burden to whoever had to take care of me. I had a lot of guilt, because I always managed to cause a big enough problem for others to argue about it. I didn't want dad and Marina to fail because of me, especially since she had already been accusing me of it, and mom said Robert was doing better again, and that he was going to anger management or something like that. I believed her and went back for the next school year. 

It wasn't better. That year, Robert started throwing things at us when he got really angry. He once threw a hammer, right behind moms head. It ended up hitting the wall behind her though. I got so scared of him to the point of id hide under my pink blanket. I couldn't tell my dad, because then mom would be sad. I also couldn't tell my dad because then he'd have to worry about me and then i'd cause him and my stepmom to argue again. I wasn't going to let that happen. My mom never knew the abuse he put me through, because she was always gone at work, and I didn't want her to worry. The one time I did try to tell her just how scared I was of him, she disregarded me and went to him instead. That next day is when I got it the worst. 

I dealt with Roberts shit for another year. I earned scars on my back that I hope no one has to see. Luckily at this rate they blend in. At the beginning of new years, he turned around. He was back to his old nice self. I trusted him again because, what else was I supposed to do? I'm a fucking dog when it comes to men. I just want someone to love me and take care of me and help me. I wanted a father figure in my life because I was daddy's little girl.

 I turned 16 in February and he actually got me a really pretty necklace.

My mom and I went to my grandparents in March. While we were gone, he disappeared into thin air. 

Mom was devastated. He drained all of the accounts and left us with $10. Mom asked my dad for money, which he did help a LOT. I tried finding a way to contact Robert. Which, I did! Only to be told it was my fault he left. I was the reason both he and my dad left. I caused to many problems. I was the main reason for all the arguments. It was my fault. 

It was all my fault. That year I really went downhill. I was so used to pain being my punishment that I punished myself by cutting. Anytime I felt like I did something wrong I cut myself. Somebody called me a bad name? Well they're right, I am that. 

This continued on for awhile. Hell, i'm 19, and now I have voices in my head that tell me what I am. I'm worthless, useless, stupid, burden, ugly, fat, and the world could use less of me. I'm 19 and I still have to sleep with a stuffed animals in order to keep nightmares away. and if I don't have a stuffed animal, then I videocall my boyfriend cause i'm too big of a baby to sleep alone. Because i'm scared that one day, i'm gonna wake up and my nightmares gonna be real. That i'm gonna be back again to a time where Robert was still in my life and still abusive. And that i'm still trapped in my old room with only some books, my iphone and my hammock to sleep in with my pink blanket in it.

There are still certain sounds that tend to make me anxious. Fireworks if I can't see them go off, whips, yelling in general. Anytime I see taller, skinnier men it nearly throws me into a panic attack. Robert was a tall ass guy who always wore carhartt jackets and overalls. I'm fine seeing those kind of clothing on shorter guys or even taller fatter guys. but if your skinny, tall, and wearing overalls and a carhartt jacket, im fuckin panicking and running. 

So yea.