I (26M) moved out of my parent’s house today. This is the first time I am sharing my story anywhere. My mother passed away when I was 1. She died a few days after delivering my sister and left behind me, my sister and my elder brother. My maternal grandparents raised me and my elder brother when my dad was working in the city. One of my paternal uncle was childless, so my father let him keep my sister. My father remarried 3 years later when I was 4, had a son with her and moved me and my brother to the city with her and her son. My life has never been the same since.
If any of you have a stepmother (SM), you know that they are rarely good. I was not lucky in that regard, I don't know what a mother’s love actually is to this day. Me and my elder brother’s life since my early childhood has been a combination of trials and tribulations. As a child, if I was acting out or not listening to very simple things like washing my own clothes, she used to lock me up in a room with no lights and no food. My brother had to endure a lot of problems too, but since he was older, he did not go through the things I had to go through. My father was sympathetic at first towards us about her behaviour, but he was numb after several years, pretty much enabling her to make all the household decisions, which made things even worse. She used to complain to my dad about what I did or did not do on a certain day, so that he would punish me for that. That is what happens in a normal family, right? But the thing is, she used to watch me getting beat up by my dad, I sometimes saw a glimpse of smirk on the corner of her mouth. I got punished for the simplest things, was not allowed to go outside to play in afternoon if I did not behave well. As a child I did not know what to do, and later on became very stubborn and rebellious, for which I spent days without food and water. Dad had nothing to say about any of this, never came to me offering even a glass of water when I was half-unconscious from not eating. My elder brother used to save up his portion of food and gave them to me when he could. I would run away from home and stay at a friend's house for weeks. But that was not a permanent solution, so eventually I had to come back home. I got beat up after coming home as well. I was a fairly good student and got good grades, which I think did not sit right with SM. So she went ahead and convinced my father to not pay for my study after a while. I was supported by my mother’s family and my brother in that regard. I started working and bought the everyday things that a person needs by myself. After a few years, my elder brother got married and moved away, who was the only one who was supportive of me in that household. I became alone in that house after that.
Fast forward to recent years. I am now working, and have been for the past few years. Me and my elder brother have been contributing to the fragmented “family” we had. My father has retired, so I was doing it to keep my father at peace. I lived with them for my father. Even though I was contributing, the same thing continued to happen to me. I never got the respect I deserved even after what they’ve put me through, never heard them saying anything remotely appreciative. SM cooked, but I did not get anything to eat at home. I had to buy food from outside for myself even though I was living with my “family”. SM and father had nothing good to say about me to any of their relatives, always saying I am doing something bad. I argued with them about these matters at times, but did endure all of it. But the last straw was a few months ago.
I went on a trip with my friends to the mountains. The natives there make glasses made out of bamboo, one of my friends brought one and gave it to me. I kept it in my room as a souvenir from my trip. My father went through my things and saw it, thought that it was something to do drugs with, told me that he would let the whole family and my superior in the office know about it. Can you believe your own father saying things like that? Then and there, I was done. I could not bear the bullshit and suffering any longer. I discussed the whole situation with my brother and my mother’s family and decided to move out. I looked for a suitable place for a few months, rented it and moved out today. I am now sitting in my place, at peace, writing about things for the first time in my life. I think I have made the right decision after a long time and want to leave all the bullshit behind to make myself the man I want to be without them or anything putting me down. I am thinking, should I still contribute to them? If any of you have any advise for me, I would really appreciate it. Thank you for reading!
TLDR: Finally moved out of parent’s house after being mentally abused almost my whole life.
Submitted September 10, 2022 at 06:28PM by GygaxMage https://ift.tt/VH1k2Wl
No comments:
Post a Comment