I was a very mentally ill teenager, and my home life, along with school life, didn’t help. At home my parents fought all the time, along with my father being a drug addict and drunk. At school, I was bullied by friends and random classmates. I was never really happy until my mother moved us to MD into my aunt’s house.
I stopped eating around 7th or 8th grade, and when I did eat it was barely anything at all. I never thought I was fat, that wasn’t my problem, I knew I was way to skinny. I just needed the control it gave me, also I had a huge problem with textures of food, which I recently learned is common with autsim. I lost a lot of weight, I always felt like shit, which I’m sure contributed to my depression and anxiety. Luckily I was hospitalized the summer between my junior and senior year in highschool,before it got to bad and killed me. I’m very thankful that my mom did finally do something about it, I’m a lot happier.
In 6th grade up until my junior year in high school I would cut myself. From 6th grade til 10th grade I would cut myself every single chance I got. My left arm would be so cut up that it barely looked like an arm. When I ran out of space there I’d start cutting my stomach, thighs, hips, anywhere. My arm is scared, along with my hips and thighs, luckily my stomach didn’t scare. Oh I also cut my breast a few times, I have maybe three scars from that. Around 11th grade the cutting was a lot less frequently, since I was almost found out by people at school, I tried to do as little as possible, which lead to me stopping completely. It’s been almost two years since I cut myself.
My mom, she always knew about the starving myself. She never did anything until the summer between my junior and senior year, just left it alone. She acted as if it wasn’t happening, she wasn’t even going to send me to the hospital at first. My therapist at the time though, he explained it all to her and she was finally convinced I needed help. I hated her a text first for sending me away, but I did thank her afterwards. I never even knew it was possible to have energy and be warm without being wrapped up in a heated blanket! I also met some amazing women while in the hospital, they helped alot along with the program and doctors. Not only did the hospital get me to a healthy weight, they taught me how to eat correctly and how to cope with my problems effectively. They also helped with what was left of my cutting problem, which was just as effective. I also learned how to deal with my sexual assault and miscarriage.
The cutting? My mom caught me doing it multiple times, never really did anything but threaten me and take me out of school for a few days. I even got found out by teachers at school a few times, and I even told a teacher once. It didn’t do anything though, my mom would yell at me, make me stay home a few days, then act like it never happened. One time she got me a therapist for my cutting specifically, but I didn’t like the therapist so she never made me go again and didn’t get me a new one.
Until I was hospitalized, I never knew that she could’ve done more. After being hospitalized I learned a lot of things about myself and about what could’ve been done.
I wish she would’ve been there for me more, I needed my mom. I wish that she would’ve left my dad a lot sooner, instead of having my two sisters, she never wanted to be a mom. She got pregnant by accident all three times, and she’s not very good at being a mom. She’s very selfish, sure she makes sure we’re fed and have clothes and a home. She’s not there for us emotionally though, it’s all about her. If we bring up how we feel, she automatically retorts with how hard her life has been and how she can’t do anything for us.
Sometimes I just wanted her to hug me and watch a movie with me… Sometimes I just needed my mom to listen to me, but she wouldn’t do it. And I can’t stand it, I love her, but I can’t stand the kind of person she is.
I also wish she hospitalized me a lot sooner, maybe I never would’ve gotten raped, maybe this would be my first pregnancy. Maybe I wouldn’t of lost the first baby… The first baby I lost because of my anorexia, I wasn’t eating right. If she would’ve had me hospitalized sooner, the cutting would’ve stopped sooner, I wouldn’t have these ugly scars I have now. Those are never going to go away…
I wish that she would’ve talked to me, not yell. It never helped, she could’ve sat down with me, ask me about what was going on. She could’ve made me felt like I was being heard… She never did that, I needed that a lot. It helped alot when the doctors and other patients would listen to me. Why couldn’t my mom do that for me? I mean, it’s her job to do that!
She would never listen, she just made me feel guilty, made me hate myself more. She always said, hell she still says, that I’m the reason her life is a mess. It’s my fault my sister D is a whore and hits her, it’s my fault my other sister A is so sensitive that if you just look at her a certain way she cries. She’s never made me feel good about myself, not even now.
Like now she’s suspicious, she’s been asking about my last period and if there’s a possibility that I’m pregnant. Everytime that comes up, she starts to put me down. “You won’t be a good mom”, “you’ll never be able to support a family”, “J will end up leaving you, you’re to lazy”, etc. Etc. Etc.
I cannot stand it, especially when she does it in front of people. She recently got a boyfriend and she was doing it in front of him when I had just got home from work. I wanted to punch her so badly. I didn’t though, she’s my mother. Even if she’s not a good one, she still is, so I have to respect her to a certain degree.
When I was starving myself she never even tried to make me eat. If I said I didn’t want dinner she would just walk away.. she would let me go to school without eating, without lunch or lunch money. She never tried, not until we lived with my aunt and there were people there judging her. That only lasted two years, then we moved. Luckily by then I was hospitalized and gotten better. I slipped up once though and she just allowed it to happen. J is the only reason I got back on track with my weight, if it wasn’t for him I’d probably be starving myself again.
There’s a lot she could’ve done… And I know I can’t change the past, but sometimes I just wish she did things differently. I wish she would do differently now before my sisters D and A get themselves into troible.