My story part 3

Door Missy Jackson gepubliceerd op Sunday 17 April 11:21

17-4-2016, 0:40:

Sorry for not writing for a bit, I gave myself the goal of writing some each day and I have been failing at it for the past few days..,

I just think it'll make it easier for myself to deal with everything, feelings and thoughts, things I cannot change and things I can but am unsure of.

The past few days have been weird. Very weird.

Manly the bad kind of weird, with a slight feeling of comfort and satisfaction.

So it started out with me not being able to sleep..,

I actually don't have a sleepingrythm, which, together with the surrounding circumstances makes everything a little more difficult.

I would be awake thinking about everything bad and just confuse myself more and more.

I would have my boyfriends cats making noise all night and I would have the neighbours take over on the noisemaking once the cats got tired.

I have stomach pains, headaches and I feel like I'm shitting lava.

My boyfriend is doing surprisingly little about his cats' behavior, which is making me really pissed off.

So last night was a very interesting night.

I had gotten up around 5 pm after about six hours of sleep or so, but still decided to give it a try to go to sleep with him.

At this moment I was already feeling slightly depressed, thinking about how I would want things to be and how that doesn't seem achievable.

About how either way I'm missing, because my feelings and heart are just not so simple as to love one person and one person only, and about how it seemed to be impossible to be with anybody at all and about the failure I am at life.

I just feel like my heart is shattered in about a 100 pieces and each guy I love/used to love had a little bit and I miss them all in their own way.

And how I made the mistake of thinking I could cuddle a guy, have him fuck me, kiss him and stare in his eyes. And then still expect to not feel anything.

But back to the point, I went to lay in bed next to my boyfriend only to find myself, laying awake, with a horrible stupid song in my head, remembering people I loved and remembering moments and feelings that make me only want to step out of this life.

I kept tossing and turning and eventually my boyfriend and I ended up in the weirdest conversation that was nice.

He pretty much told me he feels like I'm his daughter with benefits (we have this thing where I call him daddy sometimes, also we have a almost 24 year age difference), but not just in a sexual way, and we got a little further in opening up to each other in a sexual way and I do feel closer to him.

I didn't get much sleep.

I took twice the allowed dose of sleeping pills but it strangely enough made my right hip restless.., no not my leg, but my hip!

Weirdest feeling ever but terrible!

It still hurts right now due to the weirdest movements I've made.

Also, making another adsense account is aperently impossible, kind of pissing me of.

Anyway, returning to the story!

So my dad thought that he could use this oppertunity to go to court for my custody, just to get back at my mother for keeping me.

I don't remember much of the beginning, but I do know that eventually I had to go to my dad's house once every two weeks, during the weekends.

My brother would usually go with me, and neither of us wanted to go.

We both would usually make a scene, and we never wanted to spend the weekend there.

This went on for a couple of years, my dad had a new girlfriend who he lived with, and neither of us had an own bedroom, which really bugged me (even at that age, I was used to having my own bedroom and liked my privacy), also when I wasn't there he would let other people sleep in my bed, and I didn't like that.

I also recall a time when everybody was downstairs, and my dad and his girlfriend were sitting on the couch, nothing weird, until out of the blue they asked us to go upstairs because they wanted to ''cuddle'' we refused and they proceded to go upstairs and most likely have sex in my bed.

I still feel very uncomfortable with that idea.

Also, at a very young age my brother and I were expected to do chores that my sister didn't need to do, we heard ''I cooked, you do the dishes'' more than once but my sister rarely had to do dishes.

I know it doesn't sound like much, but it's only a small part of my memories.

I found out once that my sisters name was his password.

He used to have people over all the time from Australia and let them watch me, I didn't speak English and they didn't speak Dutch, it made me feel unsafe and uncomfortable but he never understood that.

He would buy my sister everything she wanted.

Her own tv, a flute, a drumset, a cello, expensive trips to Sweden on her own, whatever she wanted she would get.

My brother and I were often deny even the most basic of things, like clothing, or a proper blanket to sleep under.

My mother paid for everything, my dad didn't even pay childsupport, and up to the day of today he's hiding from his responsebilities in Australia.

When I was young I'd always felt left out.

My dad clearly preferred my sister, and my sister and brother were always together and I was always left the outsider.

I don't remember this, but I have heard very detailed stories of my mother and I do believe her.

I have low bloodpressure, which means that I can't stand up for long, drink and stand up, and sometime even if I don't do anything out of the ordinary I just get dizzy and have to sit down or I'll pass out.

My dad never believed me and ignored my pleas for rest, making me feel horrible and blacking out more than once.

I never felt like he respected my privacy, he would burst in the bedroom without knocking and catch me watching porn (we all experiment people), he would read private papers out loud at the dinner table, go through my camera, go through all my stuff and I even caught him stealing from me.

I would not be allowed to talk to my mother while at my dads place, or use collect call (not kidding).

Also there was this weird thing, even at school where people would force me to eat oranges even though I was physically unable to.

I would put it in my mouth and chew and chew and chew but I was never able to swallow it, I wanted to but just couldn't do it, so that went with screams and crying as a toddler..,

thankfully I've grown out of it!

I never minded the taste, but everytime I eat an orange I still cringe at first with the memory.

When I went to a different school things changed for me, and not for the good.

At first things weren't too bad, I was around kids who wouldn't talk and were agressive, kids who weren't potty trained but that was only the minority so I would manage.

I was always aware of my situation.

I knew how old I was, how school worked and instead of using my intelligence I sat on my butt and enjoyed not having to do anything at school for the first couple of years..,

I regret that the more than most things, just like not taking proper care of my body, or my teeth, or taking all the shit I've taken, or being unnice to people who didn't deserve it.

That school is where my real problems started.

There would be this special transport, just for special schools, that would pick me and some other kids up in the morning and drop us off back home after school.

Now, the problem started with the fact that I would be the first one to be picked up in the morning, but also the last one to be dropped of at home at the end of the day, so my day was the longest one.

Not only that, but the bus would often be late, sometimes over two hours, when we were all waiting to finally get home, and it happened more than once that I was home after seven when school ended around 15:25 if I remember correctly.

So not only was I from home much longer than needed, also there started to be problems with our driver.

It started with yelling.

He would be yelling and screaming, saying he would stop the bus and kick kids out.

Then the voilence started.

He would hit children, until they screamed and begged him to stop, back then I thought that was normal and that all busdrivers did that.

Then things slowly changed when it came to me, he would be nice to me, and give me candy.

He would let me sit in the passenger seat once everybody else was out, and give me as many candies as I wanted.., I didn't think anything of that at the time.

After I would eat candy, it was always a marsbar, he would touch my stomach and tell me that he could feel my stomach grow.

I thought that was odd, but it didn't bother me that much and I thought that if he wanted to touch my stomach I couldn't give a rats ass!

You probably already know where this is going, it didn't stay there and he ended up molesting me.

He touched me and asked me to touch him, I never denied because if I said something he didn't like he would just hit me across the face and tell me to shut up.

Then he would drive around until I stopped crying and tell me to never tell anyone or he'd kill me, I believed him.

I was only seven at the time.

This continued for a couple of months, since I was never brave enough to step up and tell anyone.

I knew exactly what was going on. I might have been only seven but I knew what he was doing, I knew I didn't want it and I knew what he did was wrong.

Yet it went on until he actually stopped being my busdriver and I didn't tell anybody about it until I was 13.

The school I went to also had multiple centers for 24/7 treatment and just after school treatment.

And with ''treatment'' I mean being there. That's all. And they call that ''treatment''.

I didn't have conversations with a counselour, I didn't have medication.

But since it was only a couple of hours a day, it never bothered me that much.

Now what did bother me, is that while things weren't great at school, things got bad at home too, especially with my brother.

At a young age he was diagnosed with adhd and given medication.

Not that he would take them.

He would be agressive, very agressive, and my mother would do very little to stop it.

I would tell her to not let me alone with him, but she would time after time, and he would beat me, throw chairs and break stuff.

I up to today still resent her for not doing anything about it.

Even though stuff was fucked sometimes, I did have two good friends who lived in the same street as me.

We would play together all the time, and some of my best childhood memories are with them!

For an example as a child I remember the yearly street parties we used to have, and how that was usually the highpoint of the year for us.

Sadly enough I'm not friends with either of them anymore.

One of them I still see on the street every once in a while, and we usually say hi to each other, but the other one is a bit of another story...

So I have this other friend of mine, who I've known for so long that I don't even remember her..,

Well I thought I would be a fun idea to invite both my friends over to have a party, and I had everything planned out and stuff.

So now that friend of mine that I've all my life shows up, and tries to convice her to go with her instead.

She wasn't sure and was standing in front of my house for about 20 minutes before deciding to ditch me, only to ignore me since that day.

As much as I was annoyed at the fact that she ditched me, I never cared that much and to the day of today I never found out why she did.

I did her that out of nothing she started acting weird to other people too, so it might not have been me.

Another interesting thing that I've noticed was how my brain works, and how it has been working from a young age.

I recently found very old papers, and I found that I still do the same things as I used to.

For an example, I count constantly, I time stuff and I do everything in a certain order.

I constantly make lists, change them and make new lists, my mind constantly calculates and counts, and I often lay in bed and the numbers keep coming.

27? 27 what!?

I have no fucking clue!

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