Well, My hand is quite lovely.
I have a bug bite in between my boobs that looks like a pimple.
Wow,so sexy. At least I did my make up, so people can look at my face. Whatever, You can’t even see my cleavage anyways.
OH, and hottie from my class is helping me with my paper. When we’re talking, I think awkward thoughts like “Omg he’s so cute,” or “OMG I like turtles.”
or… Omg Im gonna blog about you later.
Omg… I’m such a creep.
Hope everyone is having a good day lol
My mother had me at a very young age: Eighteen. While she was pregnant with me, my father physically abused her. She would have bruises, she would get pushed, and one time I recall her telling me he slammed her head against the toilet. That was just the beginning.
Growing up, I witnessed a lot of abuse in my house. I would see my dad and mom scream until they were blue in the face. My dad punched, and kicked my mother; sometimes I found her on the ground being choked my father. My mother stayed with father for fourteen years.
Some would ask themselves: Why would he beat his wife? Why wouldn’t he ever stop? When someone isn’t around, or involved in that kind of abuse it can be hard to even apprehend those kinds of questions. Hell, it can be hard for the abuser t even understand why they do it.
My dad was born in an impoverish country, and as a young kid he was abused sexually, and physically by his own father. In addition, he also grew up in a time of war: he witnessed multiple murders, and bombing. He would tell me stories of young kids get blown up, and one time remembers a kid without some of their limbs trying to crawl to safety.
It became hard for him to live in his country, so he moved to America. He was kind of an outcast (he was a total outcast—he didn’t even know english). He became a rebel, got into fights, got bullied, and bullied others. He lived with his aunt, and got kicked out of his house. As a teenager he was out on the streets. Alone. He lived in Golden Gate Park for awhile—fighting off bums that attacked him in the night, or tried to steal his shoes. He later was able to move in with other family members, and continue going to school.
HE started doing drugs. All kinds of drugs. He smoked weed, and drank alcohol, took mushrooms, X, cocaine, meth, speed.. You get the idea. He partied a lot. He became dependent on substances to drown his memories, and he never really dealt with his problems (in a healthy way).
Someone dealing with what my dad experienced, people need lots of psychological help to build ways to cope with what they have gone through. Growing up, my dad justk new how to fight, and he knew how to drown his memories. He didn’t know it then, but he was building a pattern that twenty years later it would be hard for him to break.
Well, at this point in the story, my dad is with my mom. Why does he abuse her? A lot of it had to do with his bottled emotions and memories that he had never dealt with, and to him he saw hitting people as normal. I remember him talking about with me “normal problems’ that people go through that they need to just deal with and get over, and then he mentioned abuse. Part of him (at first) didn’t feel he had a problem, so he kept going.
My mom would start to threaten to leave him, and she would bring me to my grandma’s house. My dad then would beg her to come back, and promise to change. As you can imagine, over the course of 14 years, this happened a lot.
My dad would change. For a little while. But what happens to someone when they abuse the one the love, the feel insecure, and doubt. He would fear him leaving her, and even make up scenarios that my mom would want to fuck his boss. He wanted to control her. When my dad would feel loss of control, he would snap—“have an episode” as we call it.
Another reason he wouldn’t stop: he would justify it. Oh she did this, or she did that. She hit me too!
Well, after the divorce, my dad spent a lot of his money on drugs, and he partied a lot. so, he never dealt with any of his problems, so he never changed. To this day he still grabs my step mom, throws objects at her, jabs her with his elbow. A couple years ago, I remember him locking her in the closet, and he wouldn’t let her out.
Some of the things I have touched over aren’t even the worse things he’s done, and til this day he is still very abusive. Why? He has bottled emotions. He has deep psychological problems, that can’t be fixed like normal problems. So, why doesn’t he stop? He’s afraid to deal with the things he’s gone through, and the hurt he’s caused with others.
I’m not here to defend anyone, or point fingers. I’m not here to say this is exactly how abuse goes. there are many different variations of what causes people to abuse, and some don’t abuse illegal/legal substances, some do.What comes down to the cycle is they aren’t dealing with their problems, and they’re afraid to.
I’m sure I’ve skipped over a lot that I have wanted to say, but it’s early in the morning and I’ve had no sleep. If anyone is experiencing abuse, or is witnessing abuse, don’t be afraid to reach out and get help! If anyone needs to talk I’m here. If anyone has insight, or comments please feel free to write something.
Send me nudes!
Or am i….? lol
I wish that without me your heart would break
I wish that without me you’d be spending the rest of your nights awake
I wish that without me you couldn’t eat
I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep
Yeah I wish that we could see if we could be something…