For most of my life, I’ve kinda been dealt a bad hand. I never really had a chance at success from the get go. When I was born, both of my parents were 17, and both kicked out from their homes, so we lived in a old shack with no heating, insulation, water, or electricity. It was so bad, the front door didn’t shut good. My mother was already battling multiple mental health problems, with the most notable being BPD, bipolar, and clinical depression, and me being born out extra stress on her.
By the age of 3, I was attacked by a dog. Screwed me up bad. I’m not physically deformed, but I have a feeling it’s caused lots of trouble for me. It had the immediate effect of forcing me to relearn how to walk, talk, and such.
Around 5, my brother was born, and I was effectively thrown aside. My parents never had time for me. It was work, eat, take care of the youngest, and sleep. I hardly ever got the attention I needed when I was growing up. I never learned how to express my emotions as a result.
8 years old is definitely the worst year of my life. Most of which, im not allowed to get into, due to the rules, but I was seriously mentally scared, even to this day.
Because I was ignored so much, I frequently got into life threatening situations. Usually, it was drowning, but sometimes it was fire, or crashing a four wheeler. I nearly died 7 times.
My family also tends to just be rude. There is no sense of family bonding, or care for eachother. It’s all gossip, bickering, and fighting. Constantly making mean little jabs and comments at each-other, so I’ve resigned myself to my room. I hardly leave, or interact with others. I’ve become, in as many ways as I could, a recluse.