Lyin In My Head - Drew Deezy ft. Josh White

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Anonymous said: I've been beaten by my father ever since I was 5. I'm now 15. I never understood why he hurt me, and not my other siblings. I'm the only one he hurts and it's hard to go through everyday knowing that you're the unwanted one. I deal with the abuse, but my father sickens me. I can never understand how someone can hit their child. He is not my father. I have no real father, he is just my biological one. Everyday I want to die. I just feel the need to kill myself all the time. No one notices, and thats what hurts the most. No one realizes the mental and physical pain I endure because I'm never good enough.

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Everyone thinks I’m so strong. They all don’t know that words kill me. Today, this girl told me I was really fat. I was too fat and I’m never gonna lose weight. I’m so insecure about myself. I go through depression. I’m a pessimist and I judge myself a lot. I thought I was strong, and I kept telling myself that I’m stronger than that. That her words won’t affect me. Honestly, It’s slowly eating me up. The lies I’m telling myself just wont cover it up anymore. And i wanna go bulimic AGAIN. I’m starting to believe that I’m not worth living anymore. I’m starting to believe it again. Honestly, I wanna die.

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Hello, I am not really sure how I should start. It has taken me along time to convince myself to tell someone my story. So here goes. I am doing this because I believe I will help someone who has gone through things similar to me know that it is not there fault.

I will start with what happened to me when I was between the ages of nine and ten. My babysitter started to molest me. What made it even worse was that he was also a distance cousin. He would make me and my other girl cousin do sick things. Like watch movies of people having sex, and play gold fish were everytime we had to draw a card we had to take clothing off. He made us sit for hours naked so he could stare at us and make sick comments about our body. Me and my cousin put an end to that when we tried to run away. He had made us believe that what was happening was our fault. He said that everybody would believe that too. We finally broke down and told my older sisters. He was sent away for a little while, and when he came back everything had changed. We forgave him for what he did to us, even though it still hurt.

Here is where things get hard for me to talk about so please just bere with me as I try my best to describe the hell I have gone through.

When I was twelve my whole world fell apart. My sister starting running away and doing terrible things. I still though about what had happened to me when I was younger. I started to cut on myself. I would use a razor blade to cut deep marks into my arms. I only did it a little, then when I was thirteen I was told that my mother was going to die, I lost it. I locked myself in my bathroom and took a razor blade to my wrists, praying I would die.

My mom survived and things got better for a little while. I started my freshmen year and things were going great for me. I was a straight A student with a lot to look forward too. Then I met a girl who was just like me, she also cut on herself. Things quickly went down hill again. I started to cut on myself almost daily. In november I transfered schools and me and my mom moved in with her boyfriend. I started doing everything I could to forget about the pain that I felt inside. I did every drug I could get my hands on and partyied as much as possible.

In December my mother found out about my self mutilation and sent me to a phycologist. Who then sent me to a Phychiatrist who prescribed celxa for manic depression, and trazedone for sleep. I convinced everybody I was getting better, but I wasn’t inside I was slowly getting worse. Then one day I hit the bottom.

It was late in January and I convinced my mom to let me go out with my friend, her boyfriend, and another guy. We promised my mom we would be at her house the whole night, but after I called my mom from my friends house we took off to the other guys house.(I prefer not to mention names if you don’t mind). When we got there we started drinking and smoking weed. Bye one that morning I was gone. My friend told me that this guy was into me, and that he was only 18, me being 14 at the time thought that was sooo cool. She and her boyfriend went in the other room to get some “sleep”. Leaving me and this unfamilar guy alone. I was laying on his couch so he gave me a pillow and a blanket. I was on the verge of passing out when I felt him crawling under the covers with me. I was like fine whatever because he wasn’t doing anything. Then he started to kiss me, I kissed him back not really thinking about it.

I couldn’t thing abot anything, and my head was spinning. He started to unbutton my pants and stick his hand down ther and then he proceeded to finger me. He then pulled down my pants and got a condom out of his wallet. I couldn’t focus on anything and then it hit me what he was doing. He started to spread my legs and I told him I didn’t want to do anything like that. He told me it was fine and kept going I tried to push him away but I didn’t have any string. He then pushed himself inside me so hard, that I wanted to cry. It hurt so bad. I tried telling him to stop and pushing him away but that didn’t work since he had me pinned on the couch underneath him. I was crying for him to stop the whole time, but he didn’t.

After wards he got up and went to the bathroom. When he came back he just looked and me and goes I’m sorry. I then passed out, and when I woke up in the morning he was laying there looking at me like nothing had happened. I got up and went to the bathroom, I was bleeding bad and it hur to pee. He drove me and my friend home and as I got out of the truck he goes You know you wanted it. I later found out that he told my friends boyfriend that I started it and asked for it.

My grades starting falling and I started cutting worse, finally on feb 13 I lost it. I tried killing myself. I end up in a hospital under suicide watch for five days. When I got out I vowed I wasnt going to do things like that anymore, but no matter what happend I just went back to cutting, doing drugs and getting in trouble. Finally I hit my last straw after trying to kill myself again, running away and getting arrested. I finally started getting better. I have never told anybody about what happened that night. I want to tell my mom but don’t know how. I will never forget that night. He not only took my viginity but he took my pride and my will to live.

I have since recovered, I am starting my 10 grade year in the fall, and I know longer do drugs, or cut myself. I wrote poetry though everything I was going through and it gives me the strenght to continue everytime I want to stop. I am getting past what he did to me. I am not saying it was easy because god knowes it wasn’t. I still have nightmares, and bad days, but with the help of my friends and family, my depression is dissapearing, and I realized that in the end people like him get what they deserve. Even if I do tell my mom what happened I know I will not press charges even thoug I could have gotten him on rape and statatory rape because I later found our he was 24, but that is my past and all I want to do is look forward to my future, and forget about the past.

I wrote my story to tell everybody out there with a story like mine that there is hope, and people do really love you. Don’t ever believe that what happened to you was your fault, becasue believe it or not IT WASN’T. Thank you for listening and Know you are not alone in your struggle, my prayers are with you and so is god. Bye bye. Know that there is always hope. Even if it doesn’t seem like it.

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I went from a normal, white middle class blonde girl to sitting in a jail cell with head and back injury and vomiting blood for the weekend

my abuse story is a bit different from the typical sexual and physical abuse stories, I was never sexually abused, but my mom had borderline personality disorder and supposedly a few other diagnoses. My dad married her at first not knowing how crazy she really was despite warnings from her family, and it started to show with her violent fits and tempers.

Skip to the part, at a young age I dealt with my dad having to wake us up at midnight and take us out of the house to our grandmother’s (his mom) because my mom had a breakdown or meltdown, or destroyed the whole house, and he’d then have to call the cops once he got us to my g-ma’s and have them take my mom to a private psych hospital where he’d have her treated for a week, since she’s an adult legally he can’t force her into anything unless she has to have the cops called, and then it’s acute treatment.

She abused my dad and would hit him, make him sleep on the couch and it damaged his shoulder (6’4 and 200 lb. guy) because he was in his early 40’s and would break flower pots in his car if he came home late from work due to sleeting, then scream that he was sleeping with the women who worked for him at work, he also had heart disease, uncontrolled high blood pressure and almost died when I was 8 years old when my mom abuse to me, my 2 brothers, and him was at the peak, in fact he almost had a stroke in the car one night. I didn’t trust my mom, feared her and hated her so to me, if he died, I didn’t know what I would do, because he was all I had, and kept me safe from her when he was around and off work. She was physically and verbally abusive, we looked like a typical family, he had a great job at Axciom, she was the pretty housewife, me and my bros were popular and the typical kids who were ADD (the trend in the late 90’s for small kids) and took ritalin, wore nice clothes and had nice stuff. But when at home, all hell broke loose, my dad having to protect us if he was there, having to call when he’s not, my mom flipping out. Actually, one day when my dad was gone she used a dog leash with a chain end to slash me across the face, almost put my eye out and broke my nose, and then burnt my brother with a 2nd degree burn on his thigh with a pan of water.

I think my dad never took us out of the situation because he grew up to a verbally abusive mom who grew up in the depression-era as the youngest of 16 kids (oldest died in stillbirth, and mother quit loving her kids because they’d all die or leave) so she didn’t get emotional nurturing. So I think things were o.k.to my dad as long as us kids were safe when he’s around, and if he divorced he’d owe her tons of money, and the chance the court would put us with her since she’d never been charged with abuse…and everyone knows how courts are with always giving custody to the mom. Well, my dad called the cops when he saw what happened, and my mom got arrested, DHS took us for the night, dad threw her out, got custody of us within the week due to her abuse, and filed for divorce.

It was better at first, in the house, with our dad. He bought us a ton of stuff to make us feel better, but he was depressed. His verbally/emotionally abusive mom took the advantage to manipulate him and move in, and uses our money to buy stuff, feed off of us. Still lives with us, she’s 85 now and not so healthy, and might be developing alzheimer’s or creutzfeld-jakob’s. She’s emotionally draining to be around, emotionally exhausting and constantly put me down as a kid, telling me I was ugly, my hair was too blonde, my nose was too big or facial features too angular/sharp, my eyes too big or brown, I’m too tall, too short, too thin, legs too long. Boobs too small, type shit, though now I get told I could be a vogue model or model for companies.
She never did it when my dad was around, and sometimes she’d hit us or cuss us out, small stuff, but from my mom’s abuse it built up and I hated her because I never liked her to begin with, and can’t stand her. Just unpleasant for some reason. My dad’s a good guy but he lets people control him.

I got tired of being made to feel ugly, and her acting up when he wasn’t around, that I got into trouble at 13/14 for slamming my grandmother into a wall, because mainly I was sick of the bullshit I’d been dealt. I fucking hated her. He sent me to live with my mom, since she was on medicine and therapy and acting better. It went well for the summer, school started, she started drinking and getting plastic surgery and fucked her lips up, had her varicose veins removed and had to be confined to a bed, she become abusive again, physically abused me to the point of smashing a wooden guitar on my head one night and breaking it, giving me a concussion, I had started cocaine at the time was diagnosed with bipolar type 1, tendency towards mania/mixed state and in a manic state plus high on cocaine and pulled a knife on her and told her to keep it up.

She called the cops, I got taken down, hand cuffed and put in jail. I went from a normal, white middle class blonde girl to sitting in a jail cell with head and back injury and vomiting blood for the weekend, before I was moved to a behavioral facility for kids (was 15 at the time) and would end up spending 6 months there, getting off drugs, learning coping skills, staff learning her personality disorder issues and what she was doing, how damaged I was mentally and physically (she’d drugged me for a long time on junk like acetaminophen and painkillers and benadryl and injured my liver for a bit, later developed a too high tolerance to alcohol and pain meds, she had munchausen so she’d diagnose me with weird things and drug me) and they told my dad I was being put back in his custody and at the time was on probabtion standing until I proved I can stay off drugs and out of violent/impulsive situations, and it ending up handling abuse which is an odd scenario but the physical/psychological abuse was extreme and don’t like details but had already had a stab wound from her, head injury and concussion, and liver damage.

 I got put in a youth home that was a ranc setting, and I was a handful at first at age 15 because of physical damage and trauma emotionally and took 2 years, but I got off of probation, graduated highschool early, and my dad enrolled me in CBC at 17 to see how it would work out, I was still a kid, fragile and prone to troublesome situations, there was speculation at the behavior place I might’ve had some damage from the head injury, but was tagged with a diangnosis of bipolar type 1 and ADHD, and when leaving given a “grim outlook” from crap. I didn’t know how to respond emotionally to things either, properly or show/experience emotion, my mom would strap me down and suffocate me if I cried or displayed affectionate feelings as a kid.

For the longest time I didn’t know how to love people, to cry, to have “good feelings”. I’m 19 now, I actually cried for the first time over loss when I was expelled from CBC over suicidal thoughts, I realized how I cared about/loved the people there. It was rock bottom, but I also experienced things I thought I never could for the first time.

It was a starting point. I still have issues with slip-ups on addiction, I’ve dabbled in cocaine in the last year, and stayed away as of now. I kicked a nicotine habit that went on since I was 17, and got worse. Costing me a lung infection the beggining of last semester that had me miss so many classes I got dropped from them, and failed those courses.

I still struggle with displaying positive emotions on time, I love people now and care for them (even those I claim I hate or tell them I do) but I have trouble showing it consistently, sometimes I sound flat or monotone.

My dad has noticed I’ve improved, I feel like a failure. I had to start over at UCA from CBC because transferring would mean UCA probably hearing of my rep at CBC, CBC is a private christian college, but leaving with a poor standing is bad, period. And my gpa had been low and on academic probation, but had I had good grades and taken summer courses and transferred them, I’d be a junior in College at age 19.

I’m not, I’m starting over at a state college, as much as I like it, and dealing with my past, poor choices, getting involved in drugs.

Because of the cocaine, I have highblood pressure alot, my heart rate is often too high(systolic is too high) because of what cocaine does to the body.

My biggest advice to anyone my age and younger is don’t use drugs to drown out pain and suppress feelings.
You’re never the same, addiction is a disease, and addiction never leaves you. It warps your mind, and you’ll still always want it, even when clean.

I’m not on drugs at this point, working on classes and getting a job, but so many times I just want to snort a few lines, hit an 8 ball type crap. To mix pills with alcohol.

I think right now I’m a happy person on some level, just living with regret starting from age 13, not knowing the choices I made at 14 would cost me now, that I wasted the second half of my childhood in juvy, in a behavioral center, and a youth-home because I was labeled as a “problem child” “damaged”.

Some of my better off peers work minimum wage jobs now, and are teen parents. Not better off at this point, but my goal at his point is to study art/design, get an internship, and try fashion design, or maybe even modeling if I can make it.
I just hope for all of those out there to not fall short of what they’re meant, and please for younger kids reading this around the age I slipped up…not to make these mistakes with joining the wrong group and trying drugs.

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Anonymous said: If anyone is to look back at what happened to me, well, it wasnt because of my disadvantage. However, it did make me, well, a couple of years younger than everyone else. It took longer for me to comprehende things; not like today. Today, I am as witty as the next grown woman. Today, I am probably too strong.

Becuase of what he did.

No, I dont have daddy issues as some people like to put it. People like to say we have daddy issues, hence, our trust issues or hating men, et-ceterra.

They havent put my shoes on.

Its so easy just to say Daddy issues but in reality, it is true. The concept is true. The whole fact for the way some of us are is because of our Fathers.

I have yet to forgive mine. I tend to question whether I believe; how did Jesus die for our sins? If Jesus could so such a thing, why cant I forgive the other half of me aka my father? I simply just dont understand.

I dont understand -either- how this man that changed my diaper, the man who held me on his shoulders and laughed with me, how could he hurt me so bad? Yeah, I was born partially deaf and needed multiple surgeries and therapy but how could you blame me?!
My parents where getting divorced, simple as that. All my dad's fault (and I have no problem saying that). Regaurdless of the few, few memories I have of him smiling, I have more of him yelling, acting younger than me; I am older then my physical age bc of this man. I can call it a blessing and I can call it a curse. I've avoided situations, many, becuase I knew better and yet, the time I am supposed to be enjoying myself, I am merely wondering what to do next. I should be acting my age! How can I when Ive already matured.

I dont know when I'll forgive this man. I dont know how. And when I try to think of how, one memory haunts me the most.
No, he never touched me. No, he never molested me.

But he hurt me. Strangled me. Made sure I saw what was to fear in his eyes. I was merely a child, still growing and not knowing any better but that didnt stop him from holding me against the wall by the neck, about 3-4 feet off the floor.

It was the first time I ever felt like I would actually die; die in the hands of the man who made me. No, not God. God would never hurt me.

After gasping for air and realizing my lungs were, well, bruised, I cried.

I still cry. No one can go near my neck. No one can touch it, blow it; anything. And when they do, I scream, jump, flinch. I look so insane. But I cant help it. The memories come back to me and you know what? I dont know how much longer I can take.
Intimacy? Yeah, not exactly smooth.

But intimacy isnt important. Whats more important is, well...when will these memories go away? When will God help me to learn to forgive a man I hope so much fear against?

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