Had you been raised by the state, you would not have suffered this fate.
You know it's true because it rhymes.
Ę̵̚x̸͎̾i̴͚̽s̵̻͐t̷͐ͅe̷̯͠n̴̤̚t̵̻̅i̵͉̿a̴̮͊l̵͍̂ ̴̹̕D̵̤̀e̸͓͂t̵̢͂e̴͕̓c̸̗̄t̴̗̿ï̶̪v̷̲̍é̵͔
I don't condone spanking your children as punishment but I feel like a few beatings would have worked in your favor blanc
Are you kidding, she'll have probably split into like... 27 personalities in such a setting instead of merely 9.
Ę̵̚x̸͎̾i̴͚̽s̵̻͐t̷͐ͅe̷̯͠n̴̤̚t̵̻̅i̵͉̿a̴̮͊l̵͍̂ ̴̹̕D̵̤̀e̸͓͂t̵̢͂e̴͕̓c̸̗̄t̴̗̿ï̶̪v̷̲̍é̵͔
I don't condone spanking your children as punishment but I feel like a few beatings would have worked in your favor blanc
fuck you
I don't condone spanking your children as punishment but I feel like a few beatings would have worked in your favor blanc
Are you kidding, she'll have probably split into like... 27 personalities in such a setting instead of merely 9.
fuck you
I don't condone spanking your children as punishment but I feel like a few beatings would have worked in your favor blanc
might have helped her in the long run. Maybe it would beat out her fake gay.
I also think carrying buckets of water to the house from a river, and some wood splitting would make her personality unrecognizable.
Some people aren't born to be blessed with tragedy in their blood.
I don't condone spanking your children as punishment but I feel like a few beatings would have worked in your favor blanc
Are you kidding, she'll have probably split into like... 27 personalities in such a setting instead of merely 9.
The more the merrier! Maybe a personality that won't bitch on SC will come of it.
Some people aren't born to be blessed with tragedy in their blood.
I don't condone spanking your children as punishment but I feel like a few beatings would have worked in your favor blanc
might have helped her in the long run. Maybe it would beat out her fake gay.
I also think carrying buckets of water to the house from a river, and some wood splitting would make her personality unrecognizable.
my parents locked me in the bathroom at night and made me scrub the thing spotless, every inch.
and if they woke up in the morning and it wasn't spotless, I wasn't allowed to go to school.
they also locked me in my room for two months with nothing but a mattress and the clothes on my back, and only brought me out to do work for them and chores. and they beat me or submerged my head in water, or dumbed freezing cold water on me if I didn't do things exactly the way they wanted. Smacked me in the face.
My dad beat my hands with a hammer, sometimes he beat me with a baseball bat. He threw me into walls, in the the floor. He'd drag me into the kitchen and throw me down on the floor, and then kick me repeatedly in the stomach and the back. Pick up my head by the hair and slam it into things. Or just shove me into furniture so hard the furniture broke as I landed on it. Felt like I broke my ass.
He kicked me in the ass and beat me with a belt, the buckle. And he threw stuff at me a lot as well. Like, hard objects- at my face or at my head. Or into my chest so hard it knocked the wind out of me.
He put cigarettes out on me and my siblings, after he spanked us. I still have the scars.
He beat me senseless like a rag doll from a very young age, as early as I can remember I always was afraid of him. And I dreamed of running away or, I hid in my closet. as a toddler. Sometimes I tried to run away but it always failed one way or another, they always found me. When social services came to check things out, they blamed all the holes in the wall on me, and just before they arrived they made me clean the house as spotless as I could, frantically and made me throw away all the beer and narcotics. And threatened me with my life into lying.
Around this time they threatened to put me in foster care a lot, to get rid of me. The verbal abuse was constant.
My mom choked me a lot, she threatened to kill herself a lot she was really depressed and unstable most of my childhood. If she got angry or upset it was my fault or I was expected to clean it up. She came home drunk and pointing her finger at everyone calling us ass holes and expressing her hatred and disdain for us. And she reminded me often that I was good for nothing, worthless, carpet munching faggot mother fucker. Who wasn't gonna be anything in life, but a fast-food worker. She reminded me why no one would want to be friends with me, called me a bitch, a slut, a whore. She'd tear up my School books or throw all my stuff around and then smack me in the face for making her do it and force me to clean it all up.
Any mess there was I had to clean it up. Eventually it just became a habit because I grew fearful of any discontent or messes, or violent outbreaks, arguments. And I was constantly trying to, manage their moods and prevent any chaos.
They isolated me from friends and things because they were really controlling about who I was allowed to talk to or being allowed to leave the house or being allowed to date etc. They tried to convince me that my friends didn't really like me and were just using me, and wanted nothing to do with me. Or even that they were just Narcotics officers (which wasn't true). There was no privacy, there was no, freedom. I couldn't and still can't, express myself, say what I want, dress how I want- sit, talk, eat, breathe- how I want. I can't live my own life.
I can only live the life they choose for me, and they dictate how everything should be. And in their mind, beating me into submission is justified. Disowning me, is justified. By God, the Bible. Because, that's what God wants them to do.
They called my friends Satan. If I was caught talking to them (after they blocked them all from my phone) (if I even had my phone or laptop which was rare) I was punished. Eventually I learned to stop trying, because they always showed up where I was at. They always found me and dragged me home.
My dad lays into me on a daily basis. Tells me all the things wrong with me. All the ways in which I'm not good enough. My mom reminds me daily that I'm a fuck up in her eyes, and she treats me coldly because she's given up on me, thinks I'm disgusting, and wants nothing to do with me. She hates me.
This is what I live with, and cope with. That's my reality. I try, to vent about it on here to deal with it emotionally.
It's not the worst thing in the world, yes, people have it worse. Yeah, everyones got their own shit. This is just mine, and I deal with it by talking about it because it's cathartic.
For many years I kept all of this secret, so it feels good just to let it out. You know.
I don't really want anyone to read it or care, or respond to it. I just want to let it out. I know no one cares and it's really no one's business to give a shit. I don't feel entitled to that or like anyone owes me something. I don't want to be patronized as if I'm a victim etc.
I'm just, literally freeing myself of my own baggage so I can fucking breathe because it feels good. So it doesn't have to weigh me down anymore and I can move forward.
Thats the goal here. Not to wallow, but to literally get it out. Get over it. And move on.
I don't expect anyone to understand. But to the ones who have been, thank you.
