Vanilla

Fights.

i know that I have talked about abuse a bit in my diary but i want to point out that I never went down silently. i never ever wanted to be a victim so even though the people that did hurt me were stronger and bigger than me I would not back down in a fight. I too was abusive in a way I guess, I would scratch, hit, punch, paw, kick and bite back enough to draw blood. i didn't just silently suffer all the time.

However my mother influenced me a lot when it came to fighting, she would tell me not to hurt other people back, in a way not to stand up for myself...

To continue later gots to get home...time to leave work....

continued: 14 December 2014

Which brings me to my first family and school bullies...but I will talk about them later...maybe when I am in a more upset/ reflective mood

Just so this is clear...there was no sexual abuse in my past inflicted on me by my parents whatsoever. My mother wasn't a bad women...she was a victim under my father but of course that left me feeling neglected, she did try her best to raise me and to care but my father needed much much more attention than I...few examples...he would end up drunk and passed out on the pavement, my mother would have to drag him into the house, he would hit her until she would give him money to buy alcohol, he would vomit everywhere, piss in the sink (this was absolutely disgusting) because he was too lazy to go to the upstairs bathroom and while she was cleaning up his mess he would verbally abuse her, call her every name under the sun. he would spit on the carpet, smear marks on the walls, leave the stove on or the gas. it was difficult to live with him.

One of the memories that just recently came back to me is all the nights...I would lay in bed with my mother and i could hear him coming up the stairs just to shout abuse to my mother...he would stand at the bedroom door and just would not shutup he would go on for hours and hours calling her names etc and then ask her for more money...it would be on school nights and obviously took a direct toll on me as it was hard to keep up with bullying at school and such a bad environment at home...despite that I was an average student, i didn't really have an interest in maths or science, I don't particularly remember having many interests through a certain period of time (its hard to pin point what ages) but now i realise it was depression. What i did enjoy was poetry, reading, writing, art and drama. I used to wake up EVERY morning to my parents arguing and swearing, that was my alarm and then I would get ready for school. When i would come back from school, the sinking feeling would begin at the end of my road as I approached my house and I would be waiting for the new drama to unfold. It is a horrible way to live...to live like that and to live in fear...anticipating what will happen next so that I am not caught of guard because whats worse than anticipating the worst is being caught unexpected and the absolute irony is...that it is a secret you tell no one what is going on behind closed doors.

Sometimes i find it hard to believe this actually happened, because it was such a long time ago...it is weird to think that I spent 16 years like that...then it was over just like that but effects me till this day.

And as for my father...I cannot truly explain what was wrong with him, he was on a lot of prescribed medication and a raging alcoholic...he was more of a violent aggressive type.