Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Need help regarding family and life?
My father abandoned my mother and I when I was three months old. My mother continued working to support us, and when I turned five and started kindergarten, she began working out of town as a way to make more money. When I was nine, she married a man she had known for three months and brought him home. I had never met him, and I had not been asked what I thought of her getting remarried. I accepted it at first, but after a few months he began both physically and verbally abusing me while drunk. My mother did nothing to stop it, and at times even encouraged it. Once, when I was 11, my stepfather was on one of his binges, and she disappeared for two days. When she came back and I asked her why she left, she said that I had to learn to take care of my own problems. I turned to sports so I wouldn't have to go home. I played football, baseball, soccer, tennis, and even did competitive swimming so I wouldn't have to go home. But every night he would start in again. In winter, he would take the cover of my bed and tell me I didn't deserve it. In summer, he would lock me outside all night. Sometimes I was lucky enough that the car was unlocked and I could sleep in there for the night. I hid my pain from everyone I knew, and I became a bitter person. At 16, I hated my life. I was so miserable that I took my pain out on everyone I encountered. Looking back, I hate the person I became, but more on that later. I even had a .38 pressed to my head, convinced hell would be better than my life, but I couldn't do it. Since twelve, I had been working to feed us. My mother had become disabled, and he used his entire check to buy alcohol. I stole, sold my things, and even sold prescription meds to feed us. I couldn't kill myself because I knew my mother needed me, even if she didn't want me. Finally, at 17, he tried to choke me to death in our kitchen. When I got his hands away from my throat, he threw me through the kitchen table and poured a pot of hot coffee on my face. Enraged, I gave him back all the pain he had given me. Since then they have separated, and I am now attending college while my mother cares for my grandmother. However, she still blames me for their separation. She tells me she loves me, but I don't feel that she does. I am now 19, attending college on an academic scholarship, and have found a group of people that actually care about me, and a young woman who I am dating. However, I have to return home for summer, and I do not want to. I know my mother needs the help, even though she is now financially stable, she needs help caring for my grandmother. I know that I need to help her, but my grandmother cannot even remember who I am. I have already been offered a place with a friend over the summer, but I do not know what to do. I have put my hate behind me and have tried to become a better person, but I don't want to keep getting hurt. She calls three or four times a day and says things that hurt me, making me feel guilty for not calling and telling me sometimes that she doesn't have a son. I don't know what to do. This is only the tip of the iceberg for my problems, but I hope I have given you enough information that you can help me. What should I do?
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