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30 years old from USA

Thinking about my past... Don't you DARE say my mother is probably perfectly fine and that I'm just being a teenager and someday, I'll hug her and laugh at it. Don't you DARE say I don't hate my mother, that I'm just being emotional. I DO hate her!

You are the cause (Mother I HATE you)

Written 2006-04-10

Your words
are the cause
of every one
of these scars

Yet you care so little
Maybe it's that you can't handle it
But somehow I doubt it.

This one,
I made when you told me I was less important than a car
And this one,
I made just because I hate myself

I hate myself
Because of you
I don't care what you say
My father did NOT cause my mental harm
YOU did!
My father is just about the ONLY reason I'm still here!!!

At (I believe) the age 11,
I knew, if my father ever died,
I'd kill myself.

Your theories are jokes.
You suck as a parent.
If your kid cuts?
Oh well, just threaten to tell their father
And they'll be perfectly fine as you tell them you f*cking hate them

And I'm SURE a teenager can handle it
When you scream at them, insult them, and tell them they're worthless
then, when they begin to cry
Laugh and mock it, calling them a wimp.
I'm sure it's quite hilarious to you.

You: "Haha oh look! I can make my daughter cry! Oh wow! Look, those are real tears! Hahaha, what a f*cking wimp. You hear that daughter? You're a wimp. A stupid little c*nt and b*tch too. OH MY GOD LOOK AT THE TEARS!!!"

I am constantly a disappointment.
I can never do anything right.

And then how you mock me
that YOU have a boyfriend and I don't
(yet somehow your relationships never seem to work.
I don't wonder why)

Yes, I know I don't have a boyfriend.
You've made your point.
But how am I suppose to?
With this self-esteem you gave me
And the scars you caused?

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An update on me. I'll put this in diary later, but right now, I just want my friends to know without having to visit my page...

Emotional Abuse

Written 2006-03-07

I have been under my mother's emotional abuse for years. It began, from what I remember, when I was in second grade (but possibly sooner). We always would fight in the morning, before I went to school, and I guess, one day I started calling her fat.
Ever since then, she has been trying to get back at me. I have been called fat, ugly, bitch, slut, cunt, whore, retard, stupid, and been told to kill myself. Not once, but twice.
I've always known in my heart that I was emotionally abused. But I never thought it was by others' definitions that I was. While looking through my Parenting class binder, this was confirmed. As soon as I read "Emotional-Occurs when the child is repeatedly criticized, humiliated, and made to feel worthless", I knew. I don't know about humiliated, but the others were right on the money. Also, I suffer from some signs of child abuse, including "Depression, running away, aggression, and wearing long sleeves in warm weather". I don't run away anymore, because I realize there is no escape. And the long sleeves might have meant physical abuse. But yes, I suffer from depression, and I sometimes have aggression problems.
The worst part is that all this doesn't matter. It hurts, yes, but not physically. Thus, the law enforcers in this country (America), don't care. Emotional abuse is not taken seriously, even if it can lead to drugs, alcohol, cutting, homocide, serial murders, and suicide. The blame is put upon the child (or teenager or adult) then. Even if it is the parents fault, the child is blamed for taking such actions. In the law's eyes, not in mine. In my eyes, such views are disgusting. The child cannot always help it when they know no other way. They are taught violence through words, and take this violence out physically.
The law needs to take emotional abuse seriously. I know, such actions could lead to false claim, but what about the real cases? What about the suicides that emotional abuse caused? Do they ever think about that? Does the law even KNOW of the deaths that could have been avoided if only they had paid attention?

I am depressed. I hate it. I know lots of people have it worse than me. So I am pitying myself. Which is wrong. I always think of other people. This interested a psychologist at one point. At the time, I had no idea why, but know I do. I don't want to deal with my own problems. Because that would be pitying myself.
My mom always told me not to pity myself and to quit pouting. I am beginning to realize she's wrong. It's okay to feel sad. But how do you undo 15 years of programming?
I can't even cry for myself. That's how f*cked up I am. I can feel like I'm going to cry (or cry if I'm REALLY angrily upset), but if I just feel like it, the tears never release. Like now. I feel like crying but I CAN'T. I just can't...

I've been incredibly sad lately. Not cutting-sad. I don't feel like cutting. I'm just...sad. Almost an emotional breakdown. I DO feel like I'm crumbling...
Ever since my mom freaked out at me because I slammed her car door. I am less important than a car door, I have just been informed. My brother just told me my laughing at "everything" on TV was annoying.
And I'm taking all this in. I am trying to shut down every emotion, but hurt remains. I can't shut it down. My heart literally aches for something more. I just want the abuse to stop. I want to be able to love myself, but three more years of this and I might never be able to.

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Sequel to "Not a Whiny Brat"...um...read that first please.

Not a Whiny Brat 2: To live

Written 2006-02-27

I'm calmed down after writing that piece. And I want to clear things up. For those of you who've ever felt suicidal, you probably sat there thinking "Ok...she why doesn't she kill herself if she hates herself?"


Even if I am seeing all these flaws, there are times when I can see the good qualities. There are points when I can see the hope. When I can see beyond all this and I know I can't die. I just can't do that to people.

Yes, I'll admit. There are times when I've thought about suicide. But I wouldn't do it. Not because I don't have the guts. Because I'd regret it. I'd regret everything I would miss, I'd regret the friends I hurt, I'd regret the family members I hurt. I would regret it. My mother has told me twice to kill myself. I've wondered "What would she say if I actually did?" But the truth is, I really don't want to know that. Why throw my entire life, which I've barely lived, away just because I want to know her reaction?

So, I'm, sitting here
And I'm finally knowing
I want to live.

I honestly, truely want to live.

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I'm hesitant on sharing this, but I think it needs to be known...
I'm NOT trying to get anyone to feel sorry for me, I just want you all to understand. But if you can't, that's ok, thanks for visiting.
Wrote today~My mom was being a b*tch...

Not a Whiny Brat

Written 2006-02-25

When you're torn apart from head to toe about everything wrong with you, you naturally begin to hate yourself. Because you notice these imperfections too. And you hate them. You hate that you can't be perfect. Or good enough. That is why I use to cut. Not because I am some whiny little brat or am pitying myself. Because I hate myself. Every little flaw, every imperfection. And because I either can't fix it or I am not determined enough to fix it. Sometimes because fixing it would mean giving up something I actually like. Like food. I would become anorexic, but I love food too much. I know what you're thinking. You're looking at me and saying "What?? She's skinny!" That's the thing. I see the fat. I see how sometimes it looks like I have no chin and how my belly makes rolls when I sit. How a bulg rolls out over my hip-length pants. And I hate it. And when you're hating yourself and dealing with your mother's insults, it's hard to quit cutting. Because your mind is created in the image of a cutter. And that's hard to rewire.

So no, I'm not trying to be a whiny brat. I'm really not. I am hating myself, yet trying not to pity myself because that's so stupid (I think I got that general idea from my mother). And I hate myself for hating myself because it does seem like I'm pitying myself. I don't want anyone to think that. I just want them to know why, but at first I will come across as a brat because it starts out like this: "My mother insults me all the time, and when you're torn apart from head to toe..."

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