Before I begin telling this story, there is something very important I feel I should share with you—the reader. This story originally was written on another website, because certain aspects of the story are intrinsically linked to that website. This version has been edited to fit within originally a google document, and now transposed to my blog, and tries to make sense without any further context required.
With that being said as well, this document contains very heavy topics, such as, but not limited to: anxiety, abuse, trauma, depression, and suicidal thoughts/actions. If you are not comfortable with any of these topics, or are easily triggered by them, I strongly urge you to not read this document in any capacity. By reading past this author note, you hereby agree that you are fine with these topics, and that I, the author, assume no liability.
Additionally, I cannot guarantee all of these memories are correct. These memories are correct to the best of my own knowledge, but my memory is not flawless.
On March 8th, 2019, at around 5 p.m. CDT, my mom told me something I would never forget. “You have until 5 p.m. tomorrow to find somewhere else to live, because it sure isn’t here.”
She was kicking me out. This marked the end of roughly four years1 of abuse and trauma I endured with a major starting point being traced back to events on another website, which, for privacy sake, I shall not mention directly. If you are on the site, and have access to specific areas, you likely already know of my original thread. For those not on the site in question, there was drama on it that occurred in 2016 involving my older brother, that subsequently lead him to being banned for events I don’t fully know. I know bits and pieces of it, and I will bring up those bits and pieces of what I know, provided they actually become relevant to the story.2 The main thing that I remember during this was that my mom was on the phone with my brother(?), shouting at him while I was at my sister’s house, visiting my nephew. I remember it was late at night(?) and we were getting ready to leave(?)3 I was fifteen at the time, and now, as I write this I’m twenty. My relationship with my brother wasn’t the greatest in the first place anyways. It was a little bit worse than the normal sibling rivalry. My brother is seven years older than me and had cancer when he was like two, so it was not only sibling rivalry, but also resentment towards a sibling who was much younger/older than you in the first place.
All of this is just a setup—the necessary detail to bring the rest of the events into play. My mom was very controlling of my brother at the time before he left, mostly because of events on that site. He went to work, would come home, go up to his room, and repeat. My mom didn’t like that. I didn’t care because I didn’t really like him at the time. Regardless, after he left, my mom shifted it onto me. She wanted to limit the amount of time I spend on my phone (and at the time chromebook), because she was “afraid I was going to end up like my brother.” I told her I wouldn’t, and to this day, the few times I have to contact her, she still tries to pull that bullshit up, and use it against me. It wasn’t really until my junior year that she tried to pull that on me, from what I remember. Junior year of high school was a very bad year for me. However, before we can really get to my junior year, I want to revisit 2008 to bring up some details from around that time as well.
1 – I realize as I start writing “2008” that this number is actually incorrect. My abusive relationship with my mom and step-father extends for many years before this, but it was only the last four years I lived with them that the abuse really started to show—specifically after my brother left, due to the drama that occured on that site with him. I’m only keeping the number as three years because the abuse died down when I was around eleven until I turned seventeen.
2 – As of the time I originally wrote this footnote, I am on Part III of Junior Year in my drafts, and these details have not become relevant.
3 – I’m not fully sure if this memory is even correct, much less real. I don’t think we would be driving back home in the middle of the night, and I remember my brother saying he’s blocked my mom’s phone number around that same time. I believe in reality it could’ve been with users on-site, and in the middle of the day, but this also seems strange to me. I don’t know which version is correct.