I'm afraid I'm beginning to see myself the way you see me

I’m afraid you’re beginning to see me the same way I see myself

not to sound bitter but i hope hurting me haunts you for years

It's tragic that other people can have such great realtionships with their mom and dad and I'm over here cringing when I'm forced to tell them that I "love" them don't get me wrong I love my dad with all my heart he means the world to me but I was raised where everytime I showed any emotion I was wrong or I was doing something incorrectly and that whatever I said or thought didn't matter so even the thought of me of trying to express how I feel makes me feel so awkward and uncomfortable I don't know how to do it or function properly. My mom is so weird I remember when in the middle of the night when I was still in elementary school she would come into my room and just start knocking things down and yelling at me for God knows what and it was just so frightening and confusing and don't even get me started of all the times I saw her fighting with my siblings I swear my brain must have blocked that shit out cuz if the things my siblings tell me amazes me. She felt no sympathy for any of us and her cold actions really speak so loudly what she's done over 6 months ago still haunts me daily it's one of the many reasons I struggle with depression which he doesn't even think is real so would I ever tell her that of course not she would make me feel like I'm retarded and that I'm making things up the way she always does she makes me feel useless and then when I actually get the courage to say something she puts the blame on me because everything is my fault and I csnt do any good she makes my heart hurt physically and I'm not even kidding about that scientifically you cannot remember pain but when I remember the way she made me feel I feel like I relive it vividly the pain in my chest the tears on my face the migraine the thought of the possibly of a concussion not being able to eat because my jaw was bruised the bruise the size of a melon on my leg the thought of that keeps reoccurring and I wish it would stop I wish it would stop so bad that sometimes I just feel like I should make it stop and give myself some peace I haven't had peace in so long I'm actually not sure if I've ever known peace or if I'll ever get know him when I think further in life I don't see anything not a single thing not a kid not a job any friends a house I see black and light.

A short story about a Man

Man, born in New York and raised with parents who didn’t care for him. He was only 8 when his father walked out on his family. And I’ll pass on the story to him, so he will tell you what happens that night. I woke up to crying and pitched screaming in my ears. I washed my face and headed down stairs to get a bowl of cereal. I know what your thinking, why didn’t I go see what was going on? I wake up to this often. Not every morning, but enough to know it was not unusual. But today was different, when I got downstairs my father had bags with him, grocery plastic bags. And the only reason he hadn’t left was because Mommy had ripped them all. Which made him angry, it was the only suitcase he had and he cared much for those bags. He cared more for the bags than me, no one was allowed to touch his bags after we put the food away. I never understood that, what was his obsession with bags and why did he care about them so much? I don’t think I’ll ever know the answer because I am now 17 and haven’t seen my father since that day. But I remember it clearly, the reason my mom has that scar on her beautiful delicate face. That was the only day my father had touched her in an inappropriate way, it was because of his bags. I don’t miss him a lot. I do miss having more money and having more food. He didn’t earn much but at least it kept a roof over our heads. That was the important part to me, I trained myself to go 3 days without eating. I just never wanted to be outside in the cold. My mother lost the house and we live in a tiny apartment. That’s okay though, we didn’t need a big house to ourselves anyways we were still happy with the little we had. But it all changed my 14th birthday. Mommy always got me a present for my birthday, even if it was a cheap body spray called Axe. That day she seemed more depressed than usual. She walked over to me and said I have nothing for you today, I’m sorry Man. I panicked and screamed, it was the one day I got something that made me feel normal, like I wasn’t a dirty street rat struggling for food. That day I knew everything had changed. We weren’t a happy family anymore and we are know in great debts. My mother got upset with me. I screamed and fought with everything had in me, kicking and screaming. Until I broke Mommys vase. The only other time I’ve broken something of hers was when I was five, I was running around, as a kid does, and I knocked down her mothers necklace that was passed down to her. I remember that day clearly because I still have a scar from that day. And on my 14th birthday I got another one. She was so angry she didn’t look like herself anymore. She raged and screamed at me and I knew better than to move from where I was standing. She got a knife and threw it at me, she meant to throw it at my face but she hit my arm. It wasn’t that bad, I didnt have to go to the hospital. Or that was probably what she made me believe, but I’ve gotten over it, I still love Mommy and I always will. I’m now 17 and I work at Payless, it’s great making money, but it all goes to Mommys bills. That’s okay because I’m glad I can help her clear her debts, but I was kinda hoping I could buy things for myself. You know some clothes and real shoes not just the ones Payless gives me for working there. She’s also planning on kicking me out of the house when I’m 18. I’m quite grateful actually, she told me in advanced so I can save money. The only problem is that I can’t save if she takes all my money. But I have a plan, I want to leave my past and forget about all of it. The only memories I want are the ones of my father, Mommy, and I are together. So I’m going to go find my father and have him come back or to at least let me stay at his place since I haven’t bothered him in 9 years. Let me know if you want part two of Mans story.