Another Sad Story (advice is widely appreciated)

Sit back, relax, and let me tell you the story all about how my life got flipped-turned upside down....

I'm twenty one years old. Born into a mentally/physically abusive family. I was beat nearly ever day for about five years by my step-father, from age eleven to about fifteen. Throughout this post, I'll just refer to him as 'He'. My real father and mom divorced in the 90's when my dad was going through severe Crohn's Disease. At one point, he thought he was going to die and began drinking heavily and thereby causing domestic abuse in our home. As far as I can recall, my real dad never laid a finger on me and my sister. But He would spank us on our bare asses everyday with a belt for no reason. And when I mean spankings, I don't mean 'oh my parents grounded me as a seven year old and gave me a spanking'. No. I was beaten with a belt nearly everyday across my ass and back for years until I was in my teens. He called it 'punishment' for whatever I did wrong. And that it 'hurt him more than it did me'. Whether it was making the bed the wrong way (the way he didn't like it) or because I folded my clothes in the dresser the way he didn't like it or because I forgot to do the dishes. or because of one mundane thing or another. It was also my younger sister who experienced it. She would be hit before school and I would get it after. At one point he proclaimed that we were 'each others conscience' and when one of us did something 'wrong', we would both be spanked. On one occasion, he thought I was talking back to him and choked me against the wall, while my mother watched. It was one of the only times I could remember when she stepped in, and even then all she did was stand in the doorway and tell him to stop. My mom always took his side. One day, I was grounded and I wasn't allowed to see or walk home with my friends. A boy who liked me walked me to the Cul De Sac I lived on and we said goodbye and I went inside. When my mom came home she yelled at me for having 'friends in the house' or so He told her. I told her the truth that he was lying and she called ME the liar and slapped me across my face. It was the first time my mom laid a hand on me and It was then I truly understood that no matter what I said or did, I was never going to be equals with them. I have an exceptional talent for cartooning, though. Those years spent in my room when I would cry and feel terrible, I always had a sketch book and somehow, I felt better. Like, for one moment I could break away and just keep drawing to relieve myself of pain I felt.

The mental abuse seemed to be everlasting. Being a twelve year old girl and being called fat and also told that you have no respect or integrity for anyone and are nothing but selfish and lazy. Twelve years old. I hardly knew the definition of those words. And they were constantly ringing through my ears. 'You know why you can't do this or that? because you're lazy. You can't even lose weight. What kind of a person do you think you are? You have no integrity and you'll do anything to benefit yourself only. You are a horrible person.' Just some of the things I heard as a child. All those times I would cry and look to my mother with sad, desperate eyes, begging her help. Only to watch her turn away or give me the 'don't look at me' face. I never had the pleasure of receiving sympathy from them. Anytime I was upset, it was 'why are you crying?' or 'Are you seriously upset over this or that?' As if all the emotions I felt were nothing but minuscule annoyances. For a long time, the walls of my room were bare. After receiving bad grades in school, He went into my room, tore down all the drawings and pictures I had and took away all my entertainment, leaving me with nothing but some books, two sketch pads that I hid under my bed, and a dresser. He said someday I would get them back when I grew up. I was forced to grow-up and act like an adult at age twelve. Especially when I consoled my sister.

I never wanted to go home. Walking home from school felt like walking to my death. I contemplated suicide at thirteen but never felt ballsy enough to do anything. The only solace I got was when I would stay after school or spend the night at my grandpa's house. When we would have 'family dinners' and make it look like we were happy. Or nights when He went to work until midnight. My grandfather was the only person in my life to give me so much and comfort me in ways that my real father, mom, or step dad could and would never do. He saw me and always told me that my destiny was to be great and profitable and happy. That I was meant for the best in life. Sometimes he would ask me what happens at home and I would lie and tell him everything is ok. I was so scared that He would find out if I told anyone, that he would be angry and beat us again that I kept it inside for years. The beatings stopped once my sister came forward with her counselor when she was in fifth grade and I was just about to go into high school. and that day I came home, they both yelled at us for 'putting His job in jeopardy.' But, He went to work that night and my mom locked herself away in the bedroom and my sister and I confided in each other that night that we were finally free. Give or take the still mental abuse that proceeded, but the beatings ceased altogether. Sometimes I blame myself for letting it happen to us so easily when I could have done something and I never did. Even my own counselors. I never felt strong enough to do anything. Now I look at my sister, who is the strongest, most opinionated person I know. And when I see her, my heart sinks inside because I blame myself for letting anyone touch her. She has cut ties with our step-father. She hasn't spoken to him since she moved out. I never speak to him either. The only people I talk to in my family are my grandpa, my sister, and my mom. I feel like I should be angry with her for letting it all happen. Even though we were emotionally distant and I never got to know her until I moved out at seventeen, I love her with all my heart. She's my mom... And she too was in abusive relationships before and is, to a point, emotionally upset by her past. She portrays a strong woman but is so easily influenced by men, that He can manipulate her in any way and then be indifferent to the happenings of my sister and I. When He was gone at work though, my mom became the soft-spoken, loving mom I knew she was and often we would have popcorn and ice cream while we watched movies. After some time though, I grew to know the hours of his long night shifts and after eight at night I made it a habit of slinking into my room for the rest of the night to try to avoid him. As long as my door was shut, and the footsteps in the kitchen ceased, did I feel safe again.

These days, I am far away from home. Starting a new life, or trying to. I'm dropped out of college. Trying to get my cartooning started and I work a crappy, minimum wage job where I am nothing but unappreciated and even when I ask the most simple questions, when I sincerely don't know what's going, my bosses roll their eyes. I work my ass off with hardly any money to show for it. I feel like I have a hard time trying to fit in with society. Like i'm on a different level than other people. When I talk to people about things, sometimes I'll tell them some kind of freaky, abnormal fact about animals or that I believe in Bigfoot and ghosts, and they look at me like I'm insane. I try to break the ice and get to know my co-workers and my bosses as just people, but most give me straight answers and look like they want nothing to do with me and then they go talk to their own friends. The only person who is my most loyal, and dearest friend, who tries to understand and actually gets the things I'm talking about, is my boyfriend, who shares an even darker, unhappier past than my own.

After all is said and done, I've grown up with this horrible voice in my head telling me that I'm a nobody. That I'm just a sad face in the crowd who will never become anything more than I am now. That I'll always be stuck working for peanuts and that my art will never be anything to the public except doodles on napkins. That I'm not and never will be good enough. For anyone or anything. I feel hopeless and lost and scared and almost like my life just isn't worth living anymore because nothing good is ever going to come out of it. Karma isn't good to me and I have a firm belief that I was born with bad luck. For every good I do, I never seem to get a break. People are often mean and rude to me, and I'm just like 'who the **** are you? what in this world makes you so goddarn better? that mommy and daddy paid for your college and you have a house?' I do good because I WANT to do good. After a roaring childhood of being told I have no integrity and am full of selfishness, I've developed a heart to be kind and generous to my loved ones and to treat others with sincerity as well, no matter if I hate them of not. Because, I never had it. Because I hardly had anyone be kind to me in my childhood, relatives or not, I've insisted that I never become anything like my family. It will be a cold day in hell before I let anyone do that again to anyone. It amazes me sometimes that I'm not a drug addict and that I'm not as messed up as I could be.

I've just started coming to terms with the things that happened in my life and are happening now and I feel utterly depressed. I want to be something amazing, but feel like I'll never get to be anything else. I need help and I want to know if I'm not alone and how anyone else learned to cope. I want to see the beauty of life again. I want to see all the wonderful things life has to offer to me and the rest of us who feel like I do. I want to be happy more than anything in the world. I want to smile again. I want to laugh sincerely. I want to make something of myself and not be that scared, broken little girl crying in the corner, covered in bruises. And to do that I need to understand how I can overcome. If anyone is reading this, hear my plea, and please give me advice.

In a way I wish I could tell you that you are alone, that what happened to you has never happened to any other person in the world when they were growing up because it is such a horrible thing on so many levels. Sadly we all know that way too many children, and in my book even 1 child is 20 million too many, suffer from abuse.

What happened to you did not happen overnight, and learning to truly move past it will not happen overnight either. It is going to be a long road, but in the end the journey will be a good one.

You have taken a good first step now you need to take the next one and get yourself into counseling. I realize that money is tight with working a min wage job but your local mental health department has counselors and resources available to anyone who wants to make use of them. All you have to do is either pick up the phone and call them or walk in the door and ask for help. Any fees the department may charge are based on income, and no one is ever turned away because of inability to pay.

Get yourself into regular counseling and do your best to work with your counselor. Let the process work, and if for some reason you feel you can not connect with the one assigned to you ask for a different one. Don't give up. The road to healing is going to be a long one, and at times it may seem like you are getting nowhere, but let the process work and before you know it you will see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Then when you are ready get yourself back in school and since art is what you love study art in as many forms as you can. Even if you never find work doing the exact kind of art you want to do there are many great jobs available where you can apply your talents and there is nothing wrong with doing your own personal kind of art for you.

As far as "fitting in" goes. Learn to like yourself. Learn to relax and just be yourself. Don't make a deliberate effort to fit in. Once you are happy with who you are it will show and that is what will draw people to you.

Hi there and welcome to the forum.

I love to paint. Though I don't do it much anymore. Never made much money off of it. But I enjoy doing it. Don't ever give up on your dream. Always keep working on it.

Counseling is a good piece of advice. It really does help. You can sort out your past, acknowledge it and move on. You need to do that. I am sorry about your past though, know that. I was emotionally abused and I know how that feels. No self esteem. But with counseling you can get that back. So please try. Many moental healt facilities work on your income. If your income isn't high, they give you cheaper rates. So look into that. There is a word for it, but for the life of me, I can't think of it. When I do, I will post. Too early for me, not enough coffee yet. Sliding scale. That is what it is called.

I have faith that things are going to get better for you. Just posting what you did should have lightened the burden some. That took guts and I ams ure it was therapeudic for you. I hope so anyway.

Maybe if you see a counselor, you can print offf that first post and take it with you.

I hope things get better soon.

Hugs, Karen

i want you to know  you are a somebody and you can do good and you can be a great artist. work hard for it girl. you are not alone at all. i did not grow up in an abusive household but i grew up with a drug addict alcoholic mother, does that count? she cared more about her drugs and alcohol for a long time. stealing money, jewelry, games or anything of value from me to get her fix. she gave my grandmas car for collateral for drugs, ran off to athens ohio to escape drug dealers while i was in florida. stole my husbands car and left a crackpipe in it, stole meds and alcohol off of us, lied to us. told me i was worthless once. yes i know she loved us and she did make sacrifices for us but that was when she was sober. we did have a few years of that. one of my earliest memories was where she hung up on me cause i chose to go to my grandmas(where i lived for a time) so i could go to school. i watched her push our family away to where i was alone because i wanted her in my life, i thank god my uncle forgave me(he says he backed off so i could be happy). now the only real family i have is my husband, my child, and my husband's family. i have a sister who i rarely see, neices and nephews who i rarely know, and my uncle who would bend over backwards for me. life is what you make it and you need to grab it by the horns and live it. who cares if people dont like you where you work, you are there to make a paycheck. get you a few close friends and love life. dont sit back and watch it pass you by. get a counselor, talk to him or her, and move past this cause you can. i did and it is t he best thing i have ever did. you have friends here.