Child Abuse Story From Cat
by Cat
(Littlestown, Pennsylvania, USA)
My name is Cat and I am now 16 years old. Since the 6th grade I have been interested in child abuse stories and how to help, and now I believe I should tell mine.
My father is a cruel man. He would emotionally abuse myself and my brother since we were young, and would neglect us. He started leaving us home alone when we were 5 (me) and 4 (my brother). He would leave us alone for hours on end and go to the bar where he worked and drank. To this day when we visit him he still does this.
My father was always emotionally abusive towards basically everyone in our family. If my brother and I were playing outside he would yell at us to get inside the house. He would yell at us as if we had done something wrong when we wouldn't have done a thing. My dad's favorite "game" he would play on us was when he would lay on the couch real still and pretend he were dead to the point that we would either cry or have the phone in our hand to call the cops. Then he would yell at us.
My mother knew she wanted to leave my father since my brother was 2, but he would always promise things would get better, so she stayed. She always wanted that male influence in our lives. Now I search endlessly for that, and when I finally found someone who actually cared, I ended up cheating on him and losing the only guy that ever truly cared about what happened to me.
Sometimes when my parents would get in a fight my dad would just take us and my mom would think he kidnapped us. He even took us from school once. I also believe that he may have sexually abused me. All he would do though would touch or squeeze my butt. This did make me uncomfortable though.
I am now 16 years old and have been diagnosed with depression and bipolar disorder. I have become so messed up from this. I started cutting when I was 13 and am still trying to stop. I met the first guy who ever cared about me this past year and he even got me to get help for my depression and cutting, but like I said, I have recently lost him. And sometimes I think about suicide again. I am in counseling though and am getting help.
I am however paranoid about everyone around me. I think that I may get the same treatment from them that I did from my father. I don't let too many people get close to me for fear of that very same reason. I can't even get close to my mother. This ordeal has affected me greatly, and in some ways my brother too, but not as much as it has me (or rather that he hides it). We are no longer living with my father and only see him maybe twice a year.
Anyway, this is my story and I hope that if someone sees it they can post theirs too and get help.
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