childhood, life, painful childhood, rant, writingMy mother always treated my brother better. I wouldn’t have minded it so much if she didn’t treat me the opposite way. She told me that she didn’t want me as her child and made sure that I knew that through most of my adolescent years. Her saying that to me was the worst memory I have about my childhood and that’s the moment I first gave up. My father seemed like he was the only person that loved me and as it turned out was the only person that was nice to me… he wasn’t around much and when he was he didn’t intervene much. We hung out on the weekends though. I figured that I’d just make my friends my family but I could never acquire and keep friends for long. I have a small family and I was never close to any of them. I had no one to reassure me and no one to turn to.
My mother made it a point to point out every single thing that I did wrong and made sure I felt bad about it. If I didn’t then she would find other things to tear me down. I looked like a whore, I was weak for showing any emotion other than apathy, I wasn’t smart enough or pretty enough, not social enough, etc… just not enough. I was known as a fuck-up. Sometimes she was actually kool and I remember laughing with her and I used to lie my head on her stomach and watch tv, or she would take time out of her day to do my hair. It was kool as long as I wasn’t doing anything she considered wrong. At times my mother and grandmother would take turns calling me names. I’m sure that my grandmother cared about me in some way but she only showed it with money. She showed me no emotion really not even on her deathbed.
When I didn’t hear it from them, I heard it from my brother. We’ve gotten into physical fights about it and my mother always took his side (although he’s a brown belt in karate, 9 years older than me, bigger than me, and male). Every time he told on me, whether it was true or not, I got yelled at and my mother swung on me a couple of times. I was rarely whooped, always yelled at. When I didn’t hear it from them, it came from the neighborhood kids. Still to this day I don’t know why they turned on me but I’ve gotten into alot of street fights with alot of girls and some boys. They started to talk shit about me whenever I came around or they just used me for my possessions or they would try to get me to do dirt for them. After they got what they wanted from me, they dropped me. Many times they dropped me around my birthday so I couldn’t even tell ya how a real birthday party with friends are supposed to look like. I stopped celebrating my birthday when I was about 11 years old…lots of pizza and some porn. My parents always gave me a cake though.
In the summer, the people I used to visit were even worse. I was humiliated in front of small groups of people and had no way to defend myself since the person doing it was an adult. I was called fat, as big as a house, and slutty all because I was starting to develop a little bit. Any chance he got, he singled me out of the group and tore me down. I wasn’t the only kid there nor was I the only female but I was the only one treated that way. People say he was like that because he was a military man. I remember a few times when he would fix me something to eat and make me finish every single bite. Didn’t matter if I was so full I was about to throw up, he would stand there and hover over me while I ate. He told me the reason he did that was because he didn’t believe in wasting any food. He did it to me so many times that even now I won’t stop eating until my plate is empty even if I’m stuffed. I stopped crying when I felt bad and I just endured it. The summers I went there were some of the worst because I couldn’t avoid any of it… I went through that for many summers.
In school I wasn’t the last one picked… I was the one that wasn’t picked at all. I never had a problem with school work and I had mastered the “worksheet” (bullshit work they give u to do just so u’ll have something to do but taught u absolutely nothing) by the time I was in 3rd grade so I was disliked for that, some girls hated me because I wouldn’t let them play with my hair (it was half way down my back), some because I beat them in tether ball, some because I wasn’t poor like them, some because I didn’t fit in with their clique, some just because I had a sack lunch and didn’t have to eat cafeteria food. A few times when the other students had something bad to say about me, they raised their hand in class and told the entire class. Teachers did nothing. I got hit extra hard while playing dodge ball, the gym teacher yelled at me, and I was smart enough to be in advanced classes but not smart enough to keep up with half the class. I joined the girl scouts and that gave me something to do on the weekends… we only did arts & crafts and had a slumber party but at least it was something.
When I went to a 5th grade center, I was publicly humiliated on a constant basis at school. Rides on the school bus were like scenes straight out of Forest Gump. People sitting their backpacks in seats so I wouldn’t be able to sit by them, people yelling and calling me names trying to force me to get out of the seat they wanted. A couple of times I just stood in the back of the bus til I got somewhat close to home and then I got off. In the mornings I made it a point to be late to the bus stop so I wouldn’t have to stand there and get emotionally abused when they got bored waiting for the bus. My parents started to take me to school when I couldn’t take it anymore. Since the summer before, I was constantly scolded about my weight I stopped eating in front of people and often only ate once a day. During lunch time I would sit at a table by myself, do my homework and then go out to a corner of the playground and just watch the other kids play. I got kicked out of advanced classes and since I went to another school and didn’t know many people (besides the ones that already decided they didn’t like me), I was on my own. The teacher I had for that year berated me and called me crazy and stupid while the other students laughed and agreed. The one friend I ended up making had to be put in foster care halfway through the year. I had people run me into poles, threaten to fight me, popular girls targeted me and made sure I knew I was hated. I gravitated towards art and music and kept mostly to myself but I was still okay as long as I wasn’t at school. School was 10 times worse than home. I started to grow anxious whenever I was around people.. I started to expect people to hurt me. I thought that I deserved every bit of it though so whenever something was said or done to me, I did nothing. I stopped talking and I stopped defending myself… and stopped wanting to live. I would often sleep 10 hours a day, do absolutely nothing but stay in my room and watch tv, and if the depression was bad enough and I was lonely enough I would overdose.
6th grade was even worse. This was the year that most of my teachers joined in on taunting me. I was sent to the principal’s office often. I had one teacher that told me to go to the principal’s office for cussing when she never heard me say anything. I can’t even really remember why I got sent to the office all those times but I do know that I spent a good amount of time there. I had braids for a good part of that year and got teased about that. Funny that I got teased about that at an all black school. I was called a horse’s ass… or I smelled like a horses ass because I had fake hair. Popular girls did it and it was cute. People continued to threaten to fight me, I’ve been hit in the head with rocks the size of a golf ball, the guys called me ugly, one student said that he wouldn’t come to my funeral if I died (he said that out of nowhere). I started ditching class and being absent when one teacher talked about me like a dog in front of the other students. My daddy came up to the school and confronted her which seemed to only make her hate me more. I love the English language but I hated English class. I began making myself sick just so I wouldn’t have to go to school. I started walking slow and having slow movements because of the depression and I rarely showed any facial expressions. I was yelled at even more when I was depressed so I felt like I had to hide it. I’ve been told a million times that depression is a choice that I made for myself so every single time I’m depressed I also feel guilty.
But at least I had a crew. I hung out with 3 other girls. 1 of them stole my boyfriend, 1 I didn’t talk to because I didn’t have much in common with her, and the other one I’m still kool with. I started hanging out with Crips too. I got sent back to advanced classes so we all stopped hanging out. 8th grade was pretty much the same except with more ditching. I would just walk around the halls, go outside and chill, or hang out in the girls restroom so I wouldn’t have to go to class. And I know all to well what the inside of detention looks like.
I had to switch school districts in 9th grade and I was in full blown major depression. I still hung out with a few of the people from my old school but couldn’t make friends at my new school that year. I was still being made fun of but not as frequent. I felt really lonely and like I didn’t belong so I was still ditching and getting caught for it. I had to ride the bus home again but by then I had already developed a fear of it. At my new school (which was about 40% black, 58% white) I wasn’t black enough so the popular girls teased me about it and wouldn’t talk to me. They often sent me home crying. It was getting harder for me to bounce back from some of these instances and I started to experience depression more often as a result. 1 student told the counselor that she feared I would commit suicide and I had to go see the school counselor. She just talked about ways she would kill herself if she had the opportunity, asked me if my parents were still together and since they were she said there were no problems and sent me back to class. I remember once a whole row of people sitting behind me in class talked about me, called me names, said that I was weak and then one of them proceeded to kick the back of my chair over and over again until I got up and stormed out of the class (it was like 3rd period), called my mother, just walked out of the school and went home. That was an ordinary occurrence. The dog I had for 15 years died that year and towards the end of the year my grandfather passed. Not long after that, my grandmother had a stroke and was bound to a wheelchair so my mother and I had to take care of her.
I’ve felt hated most of my life and I have no idea why most of the people in my life treated me like they did. Maybe my mother didn’t hate me.. maybe she just had no patience for children but now she says that I was no mistake. Maybe my brother didn’t hate me, maybe he just has anger issues. Maybe my grandmother was only saying to me what was said to her.. maybe that’s all she knew. And some people are just plain cruel and I am an easy target. It could all be that simple.
My mother and I are now closer than ever. We bump heads every now-and-then and don’t see eye-to-eye on certain things but we get along really well. She’s been known to bring me out of some depressions. Dad is retired now and I see him more often. I don’t have much of a relationship with my brother but it’s not too bad. We go to war here and there but we don’t hate each other and we make up fairly quick. The other family members that I did have, I rarely speak to. Military dude and I are kool as shit with each other. I realized that he was strict and he realized that I was rebellious and now we get along. Girl that stole my boyfriend ballooned up to about 350 lbs and the guy actually ended up cheating on her with her new best friend. The people that tormented me in school?… They can kiss my entire ass. 1 girl ended up with 2 kids, no baby daddy and working at McDonalds collecting welfare… karma’s a bitch. They’ll all get what they deserve. I don’t keep in contact with anybody I went to school with. I see some of the kids from my old neighborhood and I don’t speak to them. Some of them don’t even exist to me. I have no hate in my heart for them.
And that pretty much sums up my childhood.
