This mytake is mostly me just wanting to write how I feel, not so much for GAG but myself. As a way to express the disappointment I have for many people in my life who's let me down in regards to my severe depression and need for help. I will be making this mytake as an anon user, not because I'm ashamed of anything I will say, but because I don't want floods of sympathy to me. Though if you're a user here who knows me it will be obvious to you who's writing this.
I've talked numerous times here of my clear depression and fearof other people. Though most don't known where all this stems from. I'm now a twenty-six year old women, but nineteen of these years have been spent with chronic severe depression. I wrote a mytake here years ago explaining about my abuse I went through as a child. I was a victim of molestation and rape by one of my big brothers. Abuse that has left me not only emotionally scared, but psychologically as well. This was my first real reason I've never trusted anyone. I remember waking up everyday as a seven year old girl and just crying my eyes out because I had woken up. And the night before prayed so hard to God to please let me die in my sleep. That I couldn't do this anymore, and everytime I was forced to wake up I died so much more inside. A little seven year old girl who should have been waking up every morning with the idea of watching cartoons and hanging out with friends in the neighborhood. But my first thoughts everyday was how could I kill myself and get away from this abuse. Even going so far as to search for the gun my father slept with at this time. As I had planned on finding it and shooting myself. But I never did find where he hid it during the day, a fact that had me bursting into tears as I realized it.
Eventually I told my mother ehat was happening with my brother. I expected this to stop any abuse from ever happening to me again. My mother would protect her daughter from someone being molested and violated right? But another shatter to my already damaged childish innocence my mother seemed to do nothing. I was still being abused when her and my father where never around. My voice was not heard, and sadly this would not be the last time I got silenced.
I endured many more years of this before the family secret got out. I was home sick from ninth grade, watching tv in my room. Cops started banging on my door ordering me out. A scared sixteen year old I went to the front yard like they told me, and when they told me to go to a police car and speak to a women I did so. Our house was being raided that day for child pornography that my brother had looked through on our computer. And the police wanted to know if he ever did anything to me. I was terrified and I told them the truth, but the part that confuses me was I was not taken into custody away from my family as I thought I'd be. I was allowed to go back to my parents, and the police said they'd come to my school the next day to speak to me. But my parents found out what I said. And I have another big brother, one I'm very close to. He was scared if I told what happened I'd be taken away from the family, and with how close we are neither of us wanted that. So when I spoke to the police the next day I told them I had lied. That i was never molested or raped, and this I was silenced again.
What's funny is sexual abuse was not the only abuse I endured at home. My father and mother are both abusive. I remember times I'd come out of school a little late and my father would just start screaming and cursing at me in front of the whole school. Teachers and students could clearly see, but no one said anything. And in eleventh grade I wanted to attend a dance at school, but my father literally threatened me that I could not go. Even apparently going so far as to call the class that was arranging it and yelling at them. But again no one did anything, how could someone clearly see this man's anger over a little dance and his reactions and not realize I was not safe? Or bother to ask was I alright?
By now you must be thinking to yourself why didn't I ever tell someone I was being sexually molested by my brother, Or my dad was abusing me? Or the very least tell someone I was depressed and wanted to kill myself. But how does a little seven year old go to her parents or a teacher and say she wants to die? Probably do like I did I guess. Make jokes about it and hope someone gets the hint. I constantly as a child made jokes around my parents and siblings that I wanted to die, or was sad. None got the hint. In high school I did the same around teachers. Even going so far as to being asked by a teacher where I expected to be in five years tell him "I can't answer that because if I do you'd admit me into a psych ward" and when being told to say answer "I expect I'd be where I've wanted to be since I was little, not breathing". What shocked me though was I wasn't sent to the office like I thought. My teacher just moved on to the next student and everyone laughed like I'd just made a joke. Hell I even flat out told a teacher my senior year I was being molested at home, though I did beg her not to say anything. Though she did as I asked at the time it appears because no one came to me to help, it still confuses me why a teacher wouldn't call the police when a child tells her she's being molested as a child.
I even fell in love with someone that year of school, an underclassmen. Despite all my fears and trust issues I let my guard down and trusted him. For years I thought I found the man I'd marry, he knew all my flaws but stayed. Something no one before ever did for me. But like everyone else my trust in this person was shattered when I found out he was cheating with my best friend. Stupidly I still wanted to be with him still, as I loved him and I didn't wanna lose the one person I thought cared for me. But as cheaters normally do he became involved with another girl two years ago, and I found out. I know it's crazy but to this day I do still love him. But I know I can't keep doing this, and moving on has to be something I do. But writing this mytake I realize that the reason I can't move on is I'm scared that I could be hurt again. Being hurt my the one person I truly do love has completely shattered my trust in anyone. What little faith I have I've put into him. But if he can be with another girl while saying he loves me, what could another man do? What other person would care enough to wait and take time for me? I fear meeting someone and trusting them just to be hurt again, potentially worse then just a broken heart.
This all led to me believing my voice doesn't matter. My feelings do not matter. No matter what I do people will always let me down. I even let me down, my voice doesn't know how to ask for help anymore. And my heart doesn't want to ask because it doesn't want to have no one listen. So just as I did at seven I let myself down and wake up everyday crying wishing I hadn't woken up. This may sound to you as a suicide waiting to happen. But the irony is I've tried suicide before and failed, and I'm going to try and live. I just have to hope my voice and strength to live do not run out one day. That I can put my trust in me, and can do what I need. The only question is like so many others will I let me down? To which I hope I can get the answer to soon.
To the teachers and friends I told as I child I wanted to kill myself, or I was being molested at home; I'd like to know one day why they never said anything. Why no one spoke up for me, why no one helped give me a voice when I was clearly trying to scream but only made a whisper. Why my parents never stoppedmy brother knowinghe was abusing me, why would you cover it up. Why would you force your little girl through that? Why would you tell and scream at her just because she wnated to go to a dance like a normal girl? Or go out with friends and date a boy? Why was all of this reasons to threaten and hit her? These are probably things I'll never get my answer to. But I hope as a society no child is ever let down as much as I was. If a child is flat out telling you she wants to die, even if it's a joke take it serious. Because it's not a joke. And I still pray my teachers had if done somethingwhen I was begging them to the only way I knew how.
But this is going to conclude my mytake. So I want to end it with a thank you to GAG and the members who choose to read my story, and learn a part of my life. To you I'll always be grateful I could share my dirty little secret and know I'm being heard. And that my little voice doesn't have to be silenced and trust can be shared anonymously through the internet. That people who don't even know me could have been the ones I needed most as a child. And could prove to be the strength I need now.
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