Okay, so I can't keep this stuff in my head anymore and I just wanted to tell someone this even if it's anonymous and you all might not know me. So, I am the oldest of three, having two brothers (we'll call them Sam and Noah), and we have divorced parents (Sarah and Jack). So, I know that normal abuse stories are like oh, they hit me and called me bad names, but this isn't just some story you could find. I'm tired of sugar coating everything and hiding my feelings inside because it's just hurting too much.
My parents would move us from motel to motel, eventually leading to us living in a completely trashed trailer with weeks upon weeks of trash everywhere and loads of laundry just sitting in front of the washer and dryer as if it were a mountain. But that's not what this abuse or whatever you'd call it is about.
So, my parents would do our homework for us, tell us we wouldn't like food without giving us a chance to try it, and so on...but that's how it started. Then the yelling would start, calling Sam and I stupid, telling us that we won't make it through school, telling me to drop out of high-school because I didn't even have a 1.0 GPA.
Jack would also compare himself to his sister (Kit) treating her kids who won't be mentioned but he was worse than he described in the next few years. Sarah would go to her friend's house and ignore me calling her when Jack beat Sam, yelling and screaming at both of us, while the 'baby' of the family, Noah, was practically treated like a toddler despite being eight.
While in the car, Sarah would beat Sam, curse and call us names, calling us worthless and so on. And sure, we all three had our problems and fears, but my brothers definitely had the worst of it and I still blame myself to this day four years after our grandparents took us in (maybe 5 this year).
Sam would constantly be beaten by Sarah and Jack (sorry if any of these fake names are anyone's real names), Noah would be given everything and learned that he could act like a toddler by throwing tantrums at literally everything (wanting to play games on a device, not getting a power up in a game, and grunting and growling as speech.), and had lice so bad that he could've gone blind.
Found out through therapy that when I was comforting Noah through one of Jack's screaming and beatings with Sam, that Jack put his gun to Sam's head.
Shows how good of a sister I was when I was too paralyzed with fear that I couldn't even go check on him afterwards but tried to stand up to our dad and got beaten with a belt and his hands before I blocked him out of my bedroom door (also the night before he was 'testing the sights' on his C02 powered BB gun (that can still kill you) towards my bedroom door while I was in the bathroom and I saw him through a crack when I opened the door and he went back to bed.) Sarah would dismiss everything, tell us our nightmares and the beatings were nothing, that it was punishment because 'we deserved it', and eventually leading to me having really bad suicidal thoughts and actually tried cutting myself with my scissors I stole from the art room at 14. I also tried to kill myself multiple times only to choose not to because I was so scared about what would happen to my brothers.
The last time I tried to kill myself, my grandmother, Carrie, called me to see how I was doing as if she knew something was wrong and completely stopped me from trying because a couple days later our grandparents (step grandma and grandpa), picked us up and said we'd be sleeping over.
They told us the truth when we got to the house and told us that we could have any food, we didn't have to hide anything, tell the truth, and they spent everything they saved for retirement on us kids and us kids only.
All I can remember with our parents are the beatings, constant screaming matches, bruises, the blood from cut marks that we self inflicted, the smell, the constant embarrassment of wearing the same clothes for weeks, unable to ever hang out with friends, and I still can't get rid of anything about them.
I don't know how Sam and Noah are about this, but I don't like talking about it and I don't know what to do. I have very bad body dismorphia because my mom always called me fat, saying I looked pregnant even before I was dating and never even been with a boy before my ex (eye roller, I know), and eventually leading to me making dinner one night and being too sick from feeling like I was too fat and hid my food, only to be told I wasn't doing anything (going to bed, going to the bathroom, going to school, nothing), until I finished the cat hair covered almost moldy food in a bowl without vomiting or else I'd eat that too.
I'm not trying to tell anyone my fears and anxieties are worse than anyone else's or my experiences are more real than others, but I am saying that I'm still a very emotional person who is the therapist friend without ever feeling the right security in anyone to tell fully everything that I've had bottled up for more than six years now.
I try to tell everyone but I feel like my body just can't let me because I don't want anyone judging me or feeling like I'm some kind of broken toy that needs fixed when all I crave is validation and the kindness I desperately needed back then. I'll be 20 in 7 months, and this still hurts. I don't want to tell anyone this verbally because I don't think I could stop crying long enough to actually tell them fully what I am now and everything in general.
I also have this stupid issue with my brain that I imagine these fake characters from movies, games and shows that comfort me and listen in character or that they care (ex. Tony Stark, TF141, my past self..) and I just think that if I tell anyone this, they'd think I am insane or something stupid while throwing me in a mental hospital somewhere random and lock me up forever to just throw pills at me and tell me to just do as the doctors say.
Sure, now my life is actually how I needed, a stable home life where my brothers are confortable and safe, a furry companion (my dog), plenty of real food, clean clothes daily, a good job, and a clean house, but Sarah isn't seeing that she did anything wrong and Jack tried to kill himself when he was divorced so he's in a nursing home and literally just told me yesterday AT WORK, MIND YOU, that his new roommate is cursing at him and threatening his life.
I've been emotionally manipulated before, but I don't know if that part is true or not. I don't want anything to do with either of them because of the shit that they put my brothers and I through, but I just can't keep all of this on my shoulders anymore.
Thank you for reading and finishing this. Please don't think that I'm a pathetic butch because I turned to Reddit of all places rather than my therapist three years ago when I first had her. I just couldn't hold it in anymore.