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I have a long story so bear with me. I’m a man and the third youngest of my seven siblings. My mother had 7 brothers and 5 sisters (yes we have big families) by the time she was 8 or so, 4 of her brothers, 2 of her sisters and her father died one after the other. This was due to the unforgiving conditions in those days and that region. In all the loneliness, she found solace in school however, when she was 12 her mother forced her to drop out to take care of the house and her younger siblings. Her mother was busy working (she had a farm after my grandfathers death, you know to pay the bills). My mother’s eldest brother enlisted in the military at an early age (around 17 I believe) to support the family, but I think he was a cruel man even before the army or the war (won’t mention which war). A few years passed and my mother married my father (who is also a military man) and moved to a city far away. She never was demanding, so even though they did not have much she was happy.

After many years my father got drafted on military duty and couldn’t be with us for over a year so, we moved to our mother’s family home to live out that year, I was a little over a year old at that point. our life there was hellish, my uncle (the cruel man mentioned above) was abusive verbally and physically to everyone in my family (11 and 10 year old boys, 7 and 5 year old girls). My mother would lock herself in a room with nothing but me, water and painkillers with her (she got addicted, and attempted to overdose) after a while my uncle and grandmother locked my mother up in an abandoned building nearby. since they only fed her animal leftover food from the farm, my brothers would steal money to buy food and give it to her through the windows. speaking of my brothers they were fuming, fights erupted regularly (with knives and pipes etc.) they came damn close to killing one of my cousins once. after 11 months of my mother’s imprisonment they (uncle and grandmother) decided to burn her head (maybe it’ll cure her addiction and depression). they used instruments similar to medieval branding irons. my brothers tried to interfere however, my eldest brother was forced down and the molten iron was shoved into his head, my other brother escaped. a few months after that my father returned and we went back to the city. before I continue (if you are still with me) it is worth mentioning that this happened a long long time ago, no mobile phones hospitals were not common etc.

after the incident my brother became psychotic (some would say more than he already was) getting episodes of unhinged rage that he would not remember. my mother lost the ability to sleep, after going on without sleep long enough, she literally looked like a dead person just stumbling around, mumbling, unable to open her eyes and hallucinating. We would do our best to make her sleep but it was almost impossible. After Almost two decades spent trying to diagnose her condition (still unsuccessful) we finally found medications that made a difference. The medication just forced her to sleep most of the day. She still has episodes however, they are not common (once every several years).

my father went through his own trials and tribulations and they sort of fueled the fire. He was never good with money and while he was widely loved and respected and helped people. when he needed help there was no one there.

Growing up like that was rough. no day passes without me thinking of everything that happened, Even though I was a toddler when it happened I somehow hate myself for it. our family was destroyed we barely speak to each other we barley know each other. I am now an adult with multiple degrees and I can count the conversations I had with my father on my two hands, and we lived together for many decades. I got my addictions out of the ordeal and they hurt my life in multiple ways. Many situations happened I think of them everyday and they badly hurt regardless of how small they are, for instance one of these small situations happened when the neighborhood caught wind of my mothers condition. every time any of us would leave the house we would hear things like “oh he is the son of that crazy lady”, “their mother is crazy” etc. I attempted suicide multiple times and in multiple ways however, the last time I did was a decade ago. I am able to function socially to a great level, however I attribute this to my ability to act, put on a mask and get through my day. when I am by myself I am filled with hatred, anger, sadness and pain.

as long as this is, believe it or not it is the very short version of what I have on my mind. I don’t ask anything specific, if you read this and have a comment you want to say, so be it. If not just move on, that’s fine by me. lastly, I apologize if this is unorganized and hard to read it was harder to write than I though.

2 replies

idkwhothisis123 @claudialister

first of all, you are so so brave for writing this. i am so proud that you had enough courage to share a piece of your story. i am so sorry that you had to go through this. this just shows that other people dont know everything, you should always be nice to someone no matter what. im not going to lie, it did bring me to tears. i can relate to some aspects of what you have written. it wasnt hard to read at all donw worry. thank you for sharing 😁


I’ve never been through anything that you’ve written but my mom did - her sister was a bully and to end her attacks, their father dragged her outside and branded her like an animal. My mom was born during World War II so life was difficult - especially that they lived in Japan.

She left home at 14 to work and send money home to help care for everyone.

She met an American sailor and got married. She had two daughters. It sounds like a happy ending but it was not because all of the pain she endured growing up, was reflected on my sister and I. My dad wasn’t around much for my first eight years of life since he was in the Navy so my mom had to raise us mostly on her own. She drank; a lot. She had a short temper. She would verbally and emotionally abuse us.

My dad didn’t know she would hit us until I was in my 20s and I told him in a conversation. It didn’t make him angry; just sad and upset. I could see he was on the verge of tears when I told him because he too was physically hit by his parents growing up and he did not like this to happen to his children.

It actually runs in my family to have some psychological issue - as I said, my mom’s sister was a bully. My sister was my bully - she would hit me a lot. When she was 18, she threatened me with a knife. She has punched me, strangled me, and hit me in other ways and my parents did nothing to scold or stop her. Probably because the first born are always spoiled.

I keep my anger urges in check - unlike some people in my family and it helps having people around that care about you. I found that with my in law family. I never told them the extent of the pain that they’ve caused me but they are just caring people and for that, I am grateful.

Sometimes that’s the best achievement; fighting your demons and keeping them in check. Plus having people around who care about you is a bonus.


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