It Was Me

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

Since I was a baby, my mother was never a good one. I lived with my grandmother since the time I was born until I was four because my parents were in rehab. I dont remember much, but my mother always tried to turn me against my dad, saying he forged checks and that she never did drugs herself. She always jumped from boyfriend to boyfriend, and most of them were nice, but she would purposely pick fights with them.

When I was in the shower she would burst in and throw things at me, and when I wasnt she would find something to yell at me for. Every day I was told I was hated. She rarely had food in the house, and when I would go to a friends to steal food for me and my sisters she would make me come outside and chase after me with her car. She would bang my head against walls and yell at me that I was worthless, just like my father.

One day I overslept, and I walked upstairs just to be pushed back down and yelled at that I was hated and that I should hang myself. I had depression since the third grade, with multiple suicide attempts, so you can see how this would affect a fourteen-year-old.

I moved back in with my grandmother, and my father was living with his girlfriend at the time and was trying to find a better life for me and my sisters. I started smoking pot every day and would often be high at school. I dont talk to my mother anymore, and probably never will. I have a job, girlfriend, and a steady relationship with my father. I still struggle with depression and ptsd, and occasionally smoke pot.

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