Hello, I am Dalia.
I have severe anxiety, manic depression, and lack the ability to socialise in a normal way due to the isolative nature of my family.
Growing up, I was abused physically by both of my parents and was taught that it was because I was a bad child. Although I acted up, I don’t think I was ever ridiculously wild or a handful, I often had people tell my family that I was polite and very friendly.
The frequent and often brutal abuse inevitably took a toll. As I grew, I began to become reliant on affection of any kind at all, I craved love without pain. This led to me becoming unnaturally promiscuous and attempting to speak to grown men when I was barely 11 years old, I was desperate and lonely.
My parents found out after looking through my phone, and I’m glad they stopped me but the way they handled it wasn’t beneficial. I was told I was filthy, called names that I don’t wish to repeat, I was hurting inside and I needed them to just love me. That much was clear, but they ignored the obvious signs of desperation for love.
Not only did I have issues regarding affection, but severe trauma and self loathing after multiple accidents regarding small animals.
I have NEVER intentionally hurt an animal with the motive to cause pain. I have lightly pushed puppies away when they bit me but never hurt them.
There are repeated incidents in my life where an animal has died in my care, which I know some of you are judging me for. But just to elaborate, I never asked personally for these animals, because I knew that I wasn’t mature enough to care for them. My mother would get animals and when she got tired of them would pass them on to me.
Unbeknownst to me, these animals often had health problems and were very sickly (1 rabbit and 1 ferret). And I would wake up or come home from school to discover them dead. In the haze of confusion, my father would mentally destroy me.
I was a “murderer” and i was always going to “kill everything”.
The worst trauma was when I was about
10. I had come home to my sickly ferret (Tico) laying in her cage and not moving. I cried and told my father, and in his response, he beat me with a belt and forced me to pick up her body and hold it. After I refused, he choked me and shoved my face near her body.
I have always been very frightened of corpses of any kind, it traumatised me greatly. And to this day I still hate myself for what happened. Often using it as a reason to justify to myself why I should kill myself.
The moments of trauma have changed me, and my psyche is altered. Last October, I was raped, by a friend I trusted and who promised me he wouldn’t do anything to me because he had a girlfriend. I was so frightened to tell my parents, because they would have accused me of “leading him on”.
Since that incident, I have been more self destructive and nonchalant. I have goaded my father to beat me, I have ran away from home, I have done drugs and alcohol, I have snuck out of the house and fooled around with many many people and started self harming. As bizarre as it seems, sleeping with people makes me feel loved, something I NEVER felt before without pain. I know I’m ruining myself.
I snuck a male into the house a little over a month ago, because I was sick and tired of being controlled (I wasn’t permitted to go out often) and I felt like he loved me. I was very stupid and ignorant, and slept with him while my mother was upstairs. She caught us in the act and rang my father, and he proceeded to ring the police. I am 15, he is 16. Whilst I understand that it isn’t necessarily legal, it isn’t uncommon for people here to do it at a young age. I accepted it and took my punishment, it was understandably a very stupid and disgraceful thing to do.
It wasn’t the police that bothered me, it wasn’t that they hit me all the time...it was how disgustingly and coldly they spoke to me. They didn’t ask why I did it, they didn’t ask if it was because something happened, they didn’t ask any of that.
They called me a prostitute and other names of that nature. And it broke me, horribly. They are all I have and they made me feel dirty, less than human.
I began getting upset and thought of suicide, and they continued the verbal and physical abuse. But then they began to say I was mentally ill, that I was sick and deserved to be locked up.
They said they wished they never had me and that they want me in an asylum.
I have accepted that I have a mental illness, but they didn’t support me at all. I snapped shortly after
I can’t do this anymore, I am alone and feel less than worth even so much as a kind word. I’m getting worse. Last night I snuck out of the house to go for a quiet walk by myself (they had been isolating me and kept me inside the house without any form of outside interaction for just nearing 2 months) and when I came in, I was met with a cocktail of degrading insults and a blow to the head. They also made me a promise to get me an appointment with a councillor so I can
open up to someone (a promise they have been putting off for a long time. I can only assume it is to protect themselves from getting exposed.)
I just want help, advice and a friend to speak to. I’m so horribly lonely and I want interaction so badly. It’s getting worse.
Post Edited By Moderator (getting by) : 5/1/2018 1:33:55 PM (GMT-6)