Child Abuse Story From Jess

by Jess
(Connecticut, USA)

I was never sexual abused and rarely physically abused, I was psychological tormented. Many people have discounted my suffering and my story because there are no scars that can be seen caused by my parents. They deny it and throw the blame back on me, and that in itself is part of them continuing to manipulate me.

I never felt wanted and that I was an inconvenience. However, my younger sister could do no wrong and was treated like a princess while I was denied not only material things that she got, but the love and acceptance too.

I remember the first time I felt fat and ugly, I was 10. My mother constantly complimenting my sister's appearance and everything she did, while putting me down for everything. I had gotten a lead role in my 6th grade play and was so proud of myself because everyone thought I had a great singing voice.

My parents had to supply the costume, but refused to buy me new pants. Were money an issue I would not have cared, but these people are very wealthy, and my sister got new gymnastic leotards all the time. SO I was forced to squeeze into a pair of pants way too small. My mother screaming at me to suck in my gut pulling on me and the pants and she did make them fit. She then told me that I don't sing well I sing loud.

Nothing I did was good enough and I thought if I were perfect maybe they would love me. Anorexia is said to be a striving for perfection. By the time I was 16 years old I had been hospitalized for it 3 times, weighing 75 pounds each time I went in. I was finally removed from my parents house and put in a group home.

I did well for months until I started to date someone who was mean to me. I accepted it because that was all I knew. Within 3 months of dating him I was back down to 80 pounds. We went out to dinner one night and ran into his ex girlfriend and he was so excited to see her. I went into the bathroom, I had brought an entire bottle of Tylenol with me, and to this day I don't know why. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw an eating disordered, drug addict (I had started using drugs shortly after dating him) and that no one loved me and no one ever would, my own parents didn't even want me. I took the whole bottle.

I woke up 9 days later from a coma having received a liver transplant. You would think maybe my mother would be nice to me, simply happy I was alive, but no. My boyfriend was there too, and he was a jerk too. My mother told me he didn't love me and was there out of guilt and now no man would ever want me. I was in so much pain from the surgery and she tried to get them to put saline solution in my morphine drip because I didn't need it. I was getting yelled at and called a b***h for crying from the pain.

Every time I try to explain in one way or another how I was tormented, made to feel worthless and fat and ugly I get told its my imagination and that I am mentally ill.

Yes I am mentally ill, I have borderline personality disorder, which is just like PTSD, but not from one horrible incident but from constant insults among other things when I was a child. This is not my opinion, its the psychiatric communities. There has even been a proposal to change the name of BPD to C-PTSD, c meaning complex, implying the above abuse.

There is so much more I could write, I have years of stuff, but I have written enough. I have cut ties with my parents and I am on my way to recovery.

---

Note from Darlene: If I have not left a comment on your story, please understand that it is not personal; it's just that my hectic schedule no longer permits me to do so.

I hope you'll follow me on:


Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in submissions and visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited. Please don't include them, as they will be removed.