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Terrible Mother


Well-Known Member
I’m so stressed. I had a really bad anxiety attack because of my social life. I hurt my arms and legs, and now they’re all fucked. I hit my head against the wall. I was repeating things over and over again like I do when I have an episode of psychosis. Rocking back and forth hugging my legs. Sobbing silently. Suppressing the screams from all the misery pulsing through my body. Gasping for air. Quietly losing my mind. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Something like this happens a lot.

Once I start to calm down I listen to music. Before I can finish one song she opens my door. I took off my headphones, so I could hear her. She tells me that I have to go to work source tomorrow. I don’t really care. She kept saying that she knew someone that could get me a job at this one place, but I knew that I can’t rely on her for anything. I know better than to get my hopes up about anything that she says. Then she says she has bad news that I’m going to hate. She tells me that I’m not going to have internet anymore.

For the last month I’ve been in my room almost every day. I don’t want to do anything. There’s no point in going anywhere. I have no friends. I’m so stressed that I’m constantly on the verge of some type of breakdown every single day. I wake up thinking- I wonder what today’s event will be? It could be an anxiety attack, a panic attack, or a full on psychotic episode (those are always fun). I don’t see myself being able to keep a job. Ill lose my mind. I imagine myself going into an episode and burning some fast food place to the ground while I repeatedly say- Monika.

What I do in my room every day is listen to music or watch YouTube. Music means a lot to me. When I was first suicidal in my freshman year I discovered this band about the same time as that started. I never talked to anyone I knew about any of my feeling of depression or being suicidal at first. It was months before I ever mentioned anything about that to anyone. But this band was pretty dark and depressing. But it made me feel like I wasn’t alone. It was the of the two things that thing could ever make me feel better. The other thing was YouTube. It was actually one specific youtuber. I hated school. I felt like nobody cared about me, and that I was better off dead. But school was better than home. The constant emotional, verbal, and physical abuse that lasted for years was the main cause of me being suicidal. Every night I looked forward to one thing, which was watching his videos. I would cry every day in the bathroom at lunch and write in my diary. Or occasionally go to the library so I could go on the computer and talk to my “internet friends” who also were passionate about youtubers. Most other people don’t understand how much someone on the internet can mean to someone. When I watched his videos was literally the only time the entire day that I would even smile. It felt good to be able to laugh. He was the only source of happiness from another human in my life. He kept me going for a while. He played a game once that was more of a serious game. It was about suicide. At the end he talked about some things, but the thing that stood out to me and helped so much was when he said, “I know I’m just some guy in front of a camera a half a world away can say that he cares, just know that I really mean it”. I could tell he was such a genuine person. that video meant the world to me.

After she tells me I won’t have internet anymore, I ask why. She says its because I need to start acting like an adult. Quite ironic the literally retarded drunk is telling the sixteen-year-old they need to start acting like an adult. I try to stay composed, but I feel like throwing myself out the window. She decides to just walk in my room and start talking. she been telling many people, many different times that she would stop drinking. And recently shes been telling people that she was going to start taking this medication that would prevent her from drinking. But while shes yelling at me while sitting on the floor of my room I can smell the vodka on her breath. Fed up with everything I told her I could tell. She gets even louder. “who cares if I’m drunk. You know what you need to get off your high horse. you need to get off your ass and go to job source tomorrow.”

She continued on about other things for a while. How I need to be like my dad and not like her, how people believe in me. While also throwing in insults throughout the entire conversation. Then she starts to say that the reason that I’ve been staying in my room by myself every day isn’t because I’m depressed. It’s because I’m like her and I have higher connections, and that they’re already trying to find me. Even though she yelled at me and insulted me in this conversation right after I had a mental breakdown I can’t help but feel myself start to smile. I’m not happy in the slightest. But she sounds like complete lunatic. I wonder if she’s always been like this or it was after the years of meth that she went bat shit crazy. She continues with nonsense that all sounds ridiculous. Says things like that she knows all of this because I’m into Wicca. After her hearing her say I feel like hiding all my crystals and taking the sigils off my walls so I don’t have to hear her go on about this kind of stuff.

All of the sudden she completely changes the topic of conversation. she gets much louder and says that I don’t know what it takes to do the laundry that she did today. I assumed that she either did it at the laundry room at our apartment complex, or she went over to her on-again-off-again abusive boyfriend’s place. But she informs me that she had to go over to the home of a married couple and sell her body to the husband in order to do laundry because we have no money. And because we’re so poor and we can’t pay rent this month and possibly next month that she’s going to out for the next for nights and be the middle man for a drug dealer.

She stumbles out of my room and start to break down again on account of knowing I won’t have internet for a while. And ill be spending all my time in my bed laying down and thinking about how much I hate life every day. She’s loudly talking to some man on the phone and being quite obnoxious. I’m silently sobbing in my room again. I start to go into yet another breakdown. I’m in so much mental pain. I’m completely broken inside. My life is fucked. I don’t even want to try anymore. I can’t live this life on my own. But nobody can help me. I’m alone.

Her donkey laughs constantly interrupt my train of thought, making me go back and forth from melancholy to infuriated. I hear her tell the man on the phone that he needs to hurry up and pick her up already. Approximately twenty minutes after she left my room she tells me not to lock her out as she walks past my door. She leaves for about another twenty minutes. Once she leaves I close my window, so people outside don’t hear me sobbing, then loudly proceed with my breakdown. She comes back twenty minutes later, then leaves about seven minutes later. Fifteen minutes later I start to calm down again and listen to music. i hear a loud noise, then take off my headphones to see what it is. I hear my mother crying. I don’t really care at this point. So, I decide to go back to listening to my music. I take my headphones off occasionally, out of curiosity to what’s happening, or what happened. Then about eight minutes after she returned I hear a mans voice. There’s some guy that I don’t know in the apartment. This must be the drug dealer I thought to myself. The exchange words for a couple of minutes. The only thing I was able to hear was my mother saying “no, don’t do that here”. Then his phone started to ring over and over again, but he wouldn’t answer it the entire time he was here. Then there was only the sound of his phone ringing. The next five minutes would follow the pattern of the man calmly saying something every couple of minutes that I couldn’t make out, with the occasional moan from my mother. She disgusts me. This wouldn’t even be the first time she has been a whore in the apartment while I’m here. I put on my headphones again and try to enjoy my music for the last time I’ll have it for a while. A couple of minutes later. A hear something and take my headphones off again. I catch him say “I’m sorry I can’t do that”. I feel the small apartment move as it does when someone goes up or down the stairs. She yells from what sounds like outside near the door- “something, something, die, something, you and your wife”. I didn’t hear the entire sentence she said. She slammed the door, started crying again, and I returned to my music. once the Wi-Fi finally went out I still didn’t take off my headphones. I really didn’t care, how she was doing, or what she was doing. I just kept writing this and focused on that.


Seeing is Believing
Forum Pro
SF Supporter

You have a way with words. Truly this is one of a way you can share with the world. Keep on writing. I am sorry for the world of hurt you are in. Its no fun to be in this situation whatsoever.

Take Care
Terrible is an understatement. Your description is clear and heart-breaking. You are so incredibly strong to be making it through this. Your insight and intelligence may make you painfully aware of what is going on, but I hope they also help you to feel better and hopefully help you to improve your situation at some point. I hope you keep writing because you clearly have a talent for it and I hope it also helps you feel at least somewhat better. I know what it is like to need to hear that somebody out there cares, so please know that we do.

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