July 3rd 2024.
Growing up, my childhood memories were filled with instances of my mother abusing me. One memory that stands out the most is when I was around four years old and she tried to strangle me. I remember it clearly, I was reading in bed past my bedtime and my mum caught me. In a very calculated and controlled manner, she attacked me. Many of my early memories are fragmented, as my brain has blocked out a lot of the abuse. But I distinctly recall the aftermath of that night - lying in bed for hours, watching the sunlight peek through the curtains, and feeling completely numb inside.
Now in my twenties, I have endured a lifetime of abuse from my family. It was not just physical, but also psychological and sexual. Much of it stemmed from them perceiving me as different from them. Eventually, the abuse became so unbearable that I ran away from home. My father had left when I was only four years old, disappearing without a trace. So, I was left to live with my mother who, along with my grandmother, continued to control and abuse me.
As a child, I struggled with communication and had tantrums often. My mother would get furious with me, unable to understand that I couldn't control my emotions. At school, I also faced behavioral issues and lacked self-awareness. Sometimes, I would be quiet and reading, while other times I would be yelling and running around in circles. I also had difficulty filtering my thoughts and didn't know what was appropriate to say. It was as if my mother was constantly trying to mold me into her idea of perfection. If I didn't fit her expectations, I was deemed not good enough.
Despite enduring all this abuse, I was able to cope by dissociating from it. I lived with my mother and grandmother, but my grandmother took care of me most of the time since my mother was always busy. Together, they would physically abuse me if I didn't behave according to their liking. My mother would also get angry at me for wetting myself as a child. I couldn't confide in any other family members because they also saw me as different. I had a "baby voice" as a child, and my family would mock and make fun of me whenever it came out. They also ridiculed me for being a gamer and tried to force me to socialize more.
Looking back, I realize that I may have undiagnosed disabilities, but my family chose to blame me instead. They saw me as bad and not good enough. The abuse wasn't just limited to mocking and bullying, but I also experienced covert sexual abuse. There were always inappropriate boundaries, especially between my mother and me. Instead of teaching me how to shave, my mother would do it herself and make inappropriate comments about my private parts. The sexual abuse was so traumatic that I have blocked most of it from my memory.
In my early twenties, I finally mustered the courage to leave my abusive family for good. But even then, they tried to control me and my devices. My gaming device was once banned for a year because I had a tantrum after losing a game. My mother also regulated my clothes and didn't allow me to have sleepovers. My grandmother would always make me feel like I didn't belong in the family because I was different. And no matter what I achieved, it was never good enough for her. If I confided in her about being sexually harassed, she would dismiss it, saying that it was already done.
I stayed with my family into adulthood, and even when I started working, they continued to control and manipulate me. When I faced sexual harassment at work and wanted to quit, my mother told me I was weak and should stay in the role. But I quit anyway, and my unemployment status was held against me. They would say things like, "Why don't you pay some bills first and then your opinion will matter," whenever we disagreed. If I shared my aspirations with my grandmother, she would shut me down, saying I wasn't good enough and had no options available.
Slowly, I distanced myself from them, but they didn't like it. They would threaten to move out without me. It was only when I started working abroad that I realized I needed to leave for good. Being away from them gave me a much-needed break from the family duties. Although I wasn't happy with my job, it was still better than the constant abuse at home. That's when I realized that if I wanted to be happy, I needed to leave.
But the process of leaving wasn't easy. I had to seek help from doctors, mental health teams, the council, and charities. I needed a place at a refuge, but I had to share the details of the abuse to get it, which was difficult for me. Part of me was still struggling to accept that the abuse was real because I had suppressed and dissociated from it for so long. But eventually, I found help from a charity and am now at a refuge, but it took nearly a year.
Leaving home for the first time was liberating, and I finally felt like I could breathe. But it wasn't long before the trauma caught up with me, and I realized the extent of my mental health issues. The abuse has left a lasting impact on me, and I may never fully recover. I have no emergency contacts now, and it's challenging to make friends because I don't have the basic concepts of life and self that most people learn from their families.
I tried to stay in touch with some cousins and aunties, but they were adamant that I should go back home. After everything they put me through, I don't think I'll ever speak to my mother again. She only sees me as an object created to fulfill her needs, and I don't want to be treated that way anymore. At the moment, I am struggling to find a sense of stability and peace. But for now, I am learning how to live again.
If you are going through a similar situation, I urge you to seek help. You can contact organizations like Galop and Refuge for support. Remember, you deserve to be treated with love and respect. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise.
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