It came in bouts.
Terrible things happened when I was around five. My father had been abusing my mother in front of me. Verbally, physically, emotionally, financially, you name it he did it. That’s right around the time your memories start by the way. That was probably the first time I actually wanted to die. I didn’t understand it, but I’d play dead in my bedroom, hoping that if I laid there hard enough it would just… happen. Thought that I wouldn’t be missed. Who was gonna pay attention to a corpse when there was a screaming match outside your door, right? My parents divorced soon after, but my father still wasn’t done with causing damage, so he sabotaged my mother’s credit score. It’s hard to be happy kid when your mother is crawling into your bed at night as a child, not in fear of her own life, but later learning she was in fear for yours. And then when you finally see her no longer in fear for your lives you then see her bone tired and pushing herself to the limit to make rent and feed two growing kids, and get a college degree your father kept her from getting, all while working three jobs? Shit was rough. Ate a lot of tv dinners to get by for a while. Sometimes the toilet paper was more appetizing and cheaper at the time, so I would sometimes eat that like a little creature because it made the hunger stop for a little while.
When I was six I was sexually abused by a family member she trusted to watch us while at work.
I was abused again around that same age by my father’s girlfriend’s son, who was a large bit older than me, though it wasn’t as direct.
My dad would physically and verbally abuse me when I was over at his house for the weekends. He’d let his girlfriends do it too if, because they would try to be my “new mommy” and it wouldn’t work because their vibes were horrendous and they always assumed it was because they were taking away my dad’s attention from me, when he didn’t even give it to me in the first place if it wasn’t in his interests or to save face. Sometimes there were no snacks because he would always date almond moms who couldn’t stand us ‘free-grazing’. So sometimes I just went hungry, even when I was in a sport.
Things didn’t start getting better till I was around eight or nine. And not by much. I got diagnosed with ADHD, but my mental health issues got so much worse around puberty. I didn’t know how to make friends because I was so reclused into myself by that point. I kind of just did my own thing. Nobody really seemed to want to keep me around anyways, and I really tried.
Things were okay for awhile when I was ten and eleven.
When I was twelve my mental shit came to a head. I found a group of friends, but I had to annoy them in order to stick around. I was determined then. They ended up ditching me when I was way older anyways so that blew. I got braces. Started therapy. There were a lot of tears and old wounds reopened. At one point I was homeless and couch surfing because my dad refused to forfeit visitation rights even though he was evicted from his condo. That was a trip. Sometimes I would have to have a sleep over with a friend just to get a shower because he wouldn’t pay utilities. Sometimes when he was single there was nothing in the house to eat, and we would be stuck with nothing until he came home from work. Sometimes he would kick us out and lock us out of the house in the middle of the day during the Florida summers to make us “get off our lazy asses.”
Things didn’t start looking up really for my emotional state till I was about 14.
Then I turned 16 and one of my family members died. Was in a car accident while driving my first vehicle (wasn’t at fault. But damn. It was scary). After that things were better, but to be honest? They’re still kinda shit.
I’m 21 now.
So your answer?
Worst years of my life:
5yrs old - 9 yrs old
12 yrs old - 14 yrs old
16yrs old - 18yrs old
…and now I’m doing better. Not completely OK. Not even good really. but better than I can really remember being in a long ass while.
Nowadays I’m just stressed with school and work all the time. Not really super happy or fulfilled yet either, but I’m assuming that’s pretty normal for my generation.
How old were you at the lowest point in your life? Reblog this and put it in the tags, plus your current age maybe. I'm trying to see something.