I’ve always grown up in a family heavily against doctors and medication. My dad specifically thought mental illness was a load of crap, and was quite abusive towards me. When I was 17 I began experiencing extreme levels of anxiety, which eventually spiraled into breakdowns and episodes of sheer terror. Not long before this, my sister was feeling suicidal. When I tried to tell my parents to get her help, my dad said psychologists are a bunch of bullshit, all depressed people want to die and that if she wants to kill herself so badly he’ll help her. I was beaten for standing up for her.
Anyway considering this incident I decided to seek help behind my parents back. Eventually my dad found out, and lost it. One day he came into my room and told me to move out, so I told him I would and that the only reason I was staying was for mum.
Then, in the most calmest, unusual voice ever, he said “Do you want to move out now.” I was baffled by what he meant, and it was only later I realized he was implying my death. He said, “Do you want to move out… right now? Here I’ll help you.”
He then proceeded to smash my whole room into pieces, he smashed two guitars over my head, threw draws and object at me with heavy force. Then he grabbed a long steak of wood that he broke off my chest of drawers by repeatedly kicking it. He held it to my neck and said he was going to kill me. I told him I loved him, he said “No you don’t, you’re the biggest mistake of my fucking life. I’m going to kill you, it all ends now.”
He tried stabbing me in the neck, only managing a small cut while I was kicking him in the stomach as forcefully as I could. He then grabbed me by my head and smashed my head against my bed, trying to knock me and and continuing to say he was going to end it all. I had my hands around his throat, choking him at which point my mum came into the room and threw him off me (he started beating her instead). She managed to get him out of my room, and so I ran out of my window and into my neighbours backyard crying for help. My neighbours freaked out thinking I was intruder, the husband picked me up by my shirt and has his fist closed like he was ready to punch me. I was hospitalized that night with only minor physical injuries.
The police saw the scene where he beat me and said its the worst they’d ever seen a room trashed. in court, the judge looked at my dad and said “Property damage is not acceptable.” He was let off with no charges and just a warning. They had used the wrong police statement.
All of this because I tried to seek help.
What would you do if someone tried to murder you?