Now, I'm not gonna make y'all listen to my dumb sob story.
But I need to express this, I've needed to for the past four years.
So only read if you want to, this is mainly a vent.
It started when I was about two years old. My mother had been diagnosed with a chronic disease, and for that reason alone, my father divorced my mother because he thought that he didn't want to take care of a sick wife. That's when the divorce started, they still lived together, and the divorce papers hadn't been signed, and the divorce wouldn't be final until I was about eight. It quickly turned into a domestic abuse situation behind closed doors. When I got a little older, about five-ish, I'd hear them screaming at each other in their bedroom when I went to go ask them to play with me. Then, a few years later, my father moved to Mississippi. I had to go back and forth from my mother's house to my father's house. When he left, he took everything, and my mother and I had to move in with my grandparents. I still live with them to this day.
The days I went over to my father's house were absolute hell. At night, when I called my mom to tell her goodnight, I would start crying, begging her to come home. My father took away the phone when that happened, ending the call, every night. When I was at his house, the domestic abuse situation continued, except with me instead. He would hit me or slap me when I did something wrong, even if I did something that was even slightly wrong. He once did it because I sighed and he thought I said "hell". My new stepmother didn't do anything about it. She would just abuse me verbally instead of physically. Calling me things, ordering me around.
Then the day came in October of 2015. It was time for me to go back to my father's house, and I dreaded going. I tried not to, but my mother said he'd take me away for good if I didn't. My mother and grandparents came outside, trying to reason with him. He screamed at my grandmother and almost gave her a heartattack. Then, he locked me in the backseat of the car with child safety lock, and made me watch him punch my mother in the face and almost knock her out. He had broken her jaw and she had to go to the hospital. That day completely fucked me up. I still have PTSD and panic attacks whenever I think of him or that situation.
We got a restraining order. He wasn't arrested because he was a police officer at the time. Yet still, I haven't seen him in four years.
I had to go to a therapist for a few years, but he didn't help. All he told me to do was to breathe, but everyone breathes anyway.
So, yeah, just needed to say that..
Sorry.
