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(Serious) utenti who grew up in abusive (physical, emotional, sexual, etc.) households, what is your story?

Physical and sexual abuse as a boy, emotional abuse and incest as a teen. Escaped the situation for a decade– college and living on my own, happiest years of my life. Moved back home when my parent became disabled and have been here ever since, 20 years of caring for her. Lots of sadness and regret but the sting has faded and I am resigned to who I am and my life as it is. Peace and calmness is all I want now, I’m okay with how things are and will be.

It all sucked. And I’m glad it’s over.

When I was a kid, my dad would beat my mom and sister all the time. Never laid a hand on me but I had to watch. When my mom left him with me and my sister, he began emotionally manipulate me by guilt tripping me into spending more time with him. He would make me feel like it was my fault that he was upset and I was the cause of his problems. When I was about 10 he stole my savings from me to pay off his gambling debt (about $400 I had saved from birthdays and christmas). When I was in middle school, he lied and said he had cancer and he didn’t know if he was going to live long which put me in a depression.

Even today (I’m 25) he still lies and tries to manipulate but it doesn’t work like it used to. I still have problems connecting with and trusting people because of him. Probably why I’ve never had a real relationship.

It’s complicated. And probably TW –

We had a family friend growing up. My parents had known this man for ages. The hometown I grew up in was super small, and tight knit. My mom grew up in the house right next door to him. He’d always been “friends” with my two sisters first, and eventually. After he’d gotten tired of listening to them bicker, he started bringing just me. It was awesome, at first! My family has always been pretty large, and my parents were always focusing on someone else. So, as a child, this new found attention was amazing.

I honestly believe we were hanging out for a while, a few years maybe. Before things started changing. Everything really is a blur at this point. But, I do strongly recall the first time anything had happened… and 10/11 year old me did say to “stop,” but I was only met with, “just try it for a second, you might like it..” and that’s when my silence started..

My household was poor; and he, being retired, didn’t have any issue with money. So essentially, he bought my silence. And I still feel dirty to this day. By the time I was a freshman in HS, things were really bad. My head was a super dark space. So, one night, I was on a suicide line chat. And I told them. I was at his house, and I told them. Maybe 30-45 minutes later, he was about to bring me home, when the cops knocked on the door.

I fucked up. But I also didn’t! Even though my dad picked me up from his house, and I spent a few hours at the station crying. In the end, I had said that I made it up. But everything stopped. I went back to him later on, and still “hung out” and tried to keep our “friendship.” Nothing ever happened after then, but I was dumb for going back.

Now, I’ve got him blocked across everything. My parents moved us across the US. And even though he’d tried to offer his support, and help me with paying for school, etc. He can no longer buy me. His wife recently passed away, and even though she didn’t know. She was the only thing in that house keeping me safe.

I’m still working through the issues this has caused. This is probably the most I’ve said anywhere in one sitting. Therapy is something in the works for me for this. I guess as dumb as it sounds, I’ve always told myself that what happened never really affected me. But here I am, years later, with everything coming back. I want to remember it all, but there’s already things that I wish I could forget…

Don’t be afraid to reach out for help. Please. I’m struggling with it now, but it’s okay to need help.

It took me six years and multiple kids before I could handle being called “mom” without freaking out internally. I have CPTSD, anxiety, depression, I don’t trust anyone. Suicidal thoughts because the people who are supposed to love me don’t. From the outside I have a magic life. Great kids, I’m an accomplished business owner, I’m a high achiever. Everyone is in aw of how I do what I do.

But deep down, I fantasize about driving my car off a bridge because it will never be enough for the people that should care. I cut them off 4-5 years ago, and while it’s helped, I’m still a mental mess.