1. My family left me crying by the side of the road when I was five.
“Early 80s, I was five years old and we were driving down the Merritt Parkway in Connecticut. I’m super excited about something. My family was getting annoyed that I wouldn’t calm down. Ao they pulled over and left me on the side of the road and pulled away.
It was only supposed to be a for a minute as a timeout but the next exit for them ended up being quite a while. I was there, crying against the guardrail for over 20 minutes.
When they finally came back, I didn’t talk to anyone. It’s been 35+ years and I still don’t forgive them. Anything nice they did afterwards i discounted because i knew they would always be capable of just leaving me on the side of the road.”
2. Sexual abuse starting at four ending at eight, mom died at five, dad turned to meth and Xanax from five to twelve, never stopped being violent.
“Sexual abuse starting at four ending at eight, mom died at five, dad turned to meth and Xanax from five to twelve, never stopped being violent. Childhood sucked for me.”
3. My mom held my little sister’s hand over a gas stove because she stole Skittles from our kitchen.
“It’s nowhere near as bad as what you’ll get, but my mom had a small amount of narcissist in her. She beat me (or spanked? It was only a belt) because as an 8-year-old I wrote something that she disagreed with in my journal. She made me spell out my error…’kiss my butt’ as she hit me with each letter. Then, a few more licks later, it was over.
She gave me a cherry popsicle and told me to stop crying before I got sick. When my dad came home, she wanted him to whoop me again.
She also held my little sister’s hand over a gas stove because she stole Skittles…from our kitchen…
We also got spanked for opening a box of crayons without permission…because her stash of 20 packs of 24 was for HER. She’s a hoarder.
Today, she doesn’t remember anything. It’s so confusing.”
4. Grandma did not want me to grow up, so she infantilized me.
“My grandma was my primary caretaker when I was young. Mom worked full time and grandma was retired.
Grandma saw me as her last grandbaby/do-over baby. She did not want me to grow up, so she infantilized me. She refused to let me independent. For example I wasn’t allowed to go to bathroom by myself, dress myself, feed myself. She made me wear a diaper at night and gave me a pacifier long after I broke that habit.
She basically wanted me to keep being her baby despite the fact that I was growing up.
By far the most disturbing thing was that she tried to breastfeed me, several times. These are things I actually remember so there is no telling what she did to me when I was a toddler.”
5. I was sexually groomed by my aunt as a child.
“I was sexually groomed by my aunt as a child. My mom died when I was 7 and she used her position as the closest maternal figure to abuse and molest both my sister and I. It started off as back and foot rubs but then I was made to touch her and do all sorts of gross shit, usually while she berated me. It was right when my sexuality was starting to develop, too. It’s been nearly 15 years and I’m still fucked-up over it.”
6. I was consistently physically sexually and emotionally abused by my father until I watched him die of third-degree burns from our childhood home exploding with him inside.
“I was consistently physically sexually and emotionally abused by my father until I watched him die of third-degree burns from our childhood home exploding with him inside. I can still smell his burnt flesh on top of the lingering effects of PTSD from the abuse he put my family through. Some of my earliest memories are of him introducing me as his piece of shit to people or him coming home and closed fist punching me in the back of the head while I was playing. Fuck you Dad.”
7. My birth mom has Munchausen’s by Proxy and put me on psych meds for 13 years.
“My birth mom has Munchausen’s by Proxy and put me on psych meds for 13 years, beginning at age 14. When I had horrendous side effects, she would say that’s just how I was or lie to the doctor. I was too sick to get out of bed or be a normal kid. I missed out in a lot. My amazing doctor figured it out and we began weaning me off of nine meds two years ago. He couldn’t clear me psychologically until the meds were out of the picture.
Present day, I have been sober for three months and I am quite lucky to be alive. It has come to light that I was never mentally ill in the first place and that my mother has a severe form of narcissism/Munchausen’s rolled into one….
She used a lot of isolation tactics so for the most part, I was in the dark. My intuition, though, kept compelling me to start digging for information. Something felt horribly wrong very deep inside. I had always been an avid reader and she had allowed me to pursue nursing in college. After a while, I had been doing a project on personality disorders and that’s when it has hit me that she was narcissistic or at least a form of cluster B. I told my doctor and I saw a look of shock go across his face.
Then it all began falling into place as I saw what she was doing to my siblings also. Getting off of psych meds was one of the worst experiences I’ve had, but the strife was well worth it. A mental illness is a life sentence to me, and I’m so thankful to be free. My doctor was fooled at first because he got my case after I was already medicated and a lot of my behavior was medication induced. I also have odd reactions to things. I basically slipped through the cracks. I went no-contact with my mother four years ago and life is better than ever. Once I got space from her, I saw her sadistic streak much more clearly. She loves it when people are sick and the attention she gets. She milks people’s pain for all it’s worth. There are days I think she might meet the criteria for psychopathy. I’d love to hear someone’s opinion on that! But I’m willing to answer any questions people might still have on the subject :)
My dad is divorcing her and it is going to be finalized next month. My doctor is really the one who deserves credit for helping me realize she has Munchausen’s; otherwise I still might be a zombie.”
8. Every cool thing was invariably ruined by my dad.
“Every cool thing was invariably ruined by my dad. We could not ask him for anything at all because invariably he was too busy/tired, and if we EVER asked him again, even weeks later he’d absolutely flip his shit and verbally abuse us for nagging him. I expressed an interest in science when I was young, so for my eighth birthday I got a microscope set. We took it out to play with it once. I say we because my dad insisted I couldn’t be trusted not to break it without supervision. Well, I really wanted to play with it so I endured the rant about nagging. He spent the entire time hogging it and refused to let me look in it. After about fifteen minutes I politely asked if I could have a turn. It went about as well as you’d expect. After fifteen minutes of being mocked and belittled as a spoiled little shit we just put it away. I never took it out again. Same thing happened a few years later with my telescope. The PlayStation. The family trips to Disneyland, every cool or positive memory that should have been was always without fail, fucked to oblivion by this immature man child.”
9. My grandmother’s brother molested me and got away with it.
“I don’t know if you can call 12 years old a child, but my grandmother’s brother molested me. When my parents noticed how quiet I was that day (after it happened), I told them. My dad called him but he said he was drunk and didn’t remember. My dad left it alone so it didn’t cause strife in the family.
To this day (I am now 50), I am still angry that he got away with it.”
10. My stupid drug addict mom gave me a serious chemical burn trying to erase one of my birthmarks.
“I was born with several strawberry birthmarks all over my body. One took up almost my entire right arm. My birth mother was a crazy, stupid drug addict and openly admits to doing drugs during her pregnancy; she thought they were her fault so she was horribly embarrassed. To the point of putting me as an infant in winter clothes in the middle of summer. When I was around a year old, during one of her (last) visitations (my dad had full custody) she decided to take it upon herself to get rid of the biggest, most visible one; the one on my right arm.
We aren’t sure what she did, but when my dad picked me up, the birthmark was inflamed, oozing pus, and I was in a lot of pain. He rushed me to the ER and none of the doctors could explain it, but they came to the conclusion that I had a serious chemical burn but didn’t know what caused it (mind you, this was the early 90s so it wasn’t as easy to pinpoint). My egg donor literally tried saying I woke up like that. That the birthmark somehow exploded. My dad didn’t press charges; he just wanted her out of our lives. He stopped letting her see me and she never tried to; instead she had twins to replace me and effectively killed one in its infancy with her drug abuse. I have a very large scar on my arms still, the rest of the birthmarks faded completely by the time I was 5. Had she left it alone that one would have, too.
I endured terrible bullying from my peers until high school. I was called a leper, rumors spread that I had skin cancer, etc. etc. Real nasty things. I ended up wearing long sleeves and hoodies, even through summer, until I was pretty much 18. I never let anyone see my arm.
When she tried establishing a relationship with me when I was 21, I calmly asked her what happened to my birthmark. She immediately began flipping out, told me to stop talking about it, that she had no idea what happened. I cut her off and that’s when she said she wished she would have used the money my dad had given her for the abortion to actually abort me. I still get texts every birthday and holiday from her, but I ignore them completely.”
11. My dad would come into my room at night when I was sleeping and molest me.
“My dad would come into my room at night when I was sleeping and molest me, but that’s not really the worst part. My mom found out and filed for divorce, but the custody proceedings took years. He wanted full custody of me, and once told me in the car with him, ‘I’ll do anything to take you away from your mom.’
The judge knew about the molestation claims, and both of their lawyers too, but I guess either didn’t believe it or didn’t care. At first it was the regular shared custody where my dad would pick me up from my mom’s house and she’d pick me up from his. It was meant to spend weekends with him and part of the summer, but I refused to go with him. Then, the court ordered my mom drop me off at a neutral place where he could pick me up. They thought she was influencing me. I still wouldn’t go with him, but I remember being so mad at my mom for making me do it. I didn’t feel safe, but if she didn’t comply with the court order, I could have been taken away. By the time I was in middle school, it was supervised visits once a week, but I still wouldn’t cooperate.
He’d show up at my school and tell my teachers I was a bad kid. I once got blamed when someone smeared feces all over the walls of the girl’s bathroom, even though it wasn’t me, and the principal had no other reason to believe it was me. He was a highway patrol captain, so everyone respected him. Maybe that’s why the judge believed him when he said the child porn they found on his computer was for work. I walked in on him touching himself while looking at it. I didn’t realize what he was doing until I was much older.
When I was about 13 or 14, the court finally let me decide which parent I wanted to be with, but this whole process from the start of the molestation through the end of the divorce lasted ten years. It’s been another eleven years, and I’m still not fully over it. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”
12. Rape and torture began when I was five and didn’t end until I finally spoke up in my early teens.
“I don’t like talking about it, but rape and torture that began when I was 5 and didn’t end until I finally spoke up in my early teens. It was more psychological trauma than physical.
I think I survived well, though. I have a steady job, a loving husband, just bought my first house, and, although I am a bit reclusive, I’ve been told I have good people skills. I have days that have me down in the dumps and days where I am afraid to leave the house, but I’ll never be 100% normal and I just have to live with that….
It didn’t hit me until much, much later. I thought it was all normal. The things he did to me were horrible beyond just the rape, yet I just blocked it off and improvised on how I had to react to the situation. He had a gun where it shouldn’t be, and the only thing I could think of is what to do to survive this current situation. OK, he’s holding my head down in a water bucket. How do I survive this situation? OK, he broke into our house, into my bedroom late one night and is holding a knife to my neck. How do I survive this situation?
Most of it was blocking it out and thinking of playing with my dolls or my Nintendo or thinking about the books I read. Get through the moment and then you can go beat Mario! It was almost as if I was rewarding myself for dealing with the situation.
He killed my pets as a manipulation tactic, and that is one of the main things I cannot get over. Even thinking about it makes me get visibly upset, so I still have work to do on controlling those emotions.
I didn’t think of it as torture until I went to a therapist for another completely different reason (had to drop out of college to help my mom back on her feet, and I felt like I had given up my life). The therapist started asking questions, then, abruptly said ‘You’re a sexual abuse victim, aren’t you?’ which shocked the heck out of me since I thought I was good at hiding that information. She wanted me to discuss what happened and she was the one that used the word ‘torture.’ When I looked back on it, yeah, those things were torture.”
13. My stepmother locked me in the basement for four days straight. Now a little more context on this event is that my stepmother.
“My stepmother locked me in the basement for four days straight. Now a little more context on this event is that my step mother was an alcoholic. Locking me in the basement was actually quite common (my room was in the basement) but normally for like 10-12 hours kind of thing. I was in 2nd grade at the time and I guess the school called about my unexcused absences. My dad who was at work most of the time was the one who got the call from the school. I got a pretty good thrashing with a belt for ‘skipping school.’ He would never believe me when I told him anything about his new wife. When I got back to school the office lady demanded a doctor’s excuse and was quite mad at me for not having one. I begged her not to make a big deal about why I wasn’t at school. She did anyways, and I was sent to the principal. Long story short, I told the adults at my school the truth about why I missed school. None of them believed me, and I got another go from my dad for ‘causing trouble at school.'”
14. Dad tried to kill mom and new boyfriend with an axe, only stopped because I put myself in front of him and screamed.
“Both parents were alcoholics, father was abusive toward mother, mother cheated on father (I saw way more than I should have), mom moved in with her new partner, new partner was a psychologically abusive alcoholic, dad tried to kill mom and new boyfriend with an axe, only stopped because I put myself in front of him and screamed while the boyfriend fled to the nearest police station. All before 13. Then I went into high school and my life got worse.”
15. My parents disowned me when I was in first grade.
“We used to ‘live’ in a hotel when I was a kid and I was under strict instructions to never ever, ever mention that to anyone. Well one day my 1st grade teacher makes us write about our houses…He says, ‘I know where you all live so if you lie…I’ll make sure you never get past first grade.’ Well, little 1st grade me had to decide which was worse: lying and failing out of school thereby enduring the eternal wrath of my parents OR tell the truth and ensure the eternal wrath of my parents IF they ever found out. Well I chose to tell the truth because how would they find out, right? Well my teacher decided to hang up our writing assignments on the wall for open school….When my parents saw it they gave me that look that told me I was dead to them. When we got back to the hotel the only thing my mom told me was ‘I suppose you already know you’re no longer a part of this family. Here take your food and eat it on the ground.’ My dad just shook his head. I don’t think I’ve ever fully recovered I don’t consider myself a real part of the family.”
16. My stepmother pulled our hair and kicked me into the side of the tub.
“My stepmother was abusive for some time when I was a child. Specific examples being her choking me for complaining that my sister was wearing my socks, which had my name on them. Once, my sister and I messed up the bathroom, she pulled our hair and kicked me into the side of the tub. Whenever I fought with my little sister I would hide under my bed because I knew what was coming. I told my dad a couple of times but nothing changed. My stepfather got a call from my dad accusing HIM of being abusive, and my stepdad threatened to kick his ass for trying to pull that shit. And it finally stopped.
Fast-forward years later, I would call her out on what she did. And she and my father both denied it up and down, told me I was a liar, I was making up stories. They refused to ever acknowledge it. It made it hard to trust others, it made it hard to be open, and I’m still intimidated by men and women alike.”
17. When I was in elementary school I cracked my skull because my sister thought it would be funny to push me over.
“I got sick and remember going to the hospital because I was dehydrated or whatever. When I woke up it had been five weeks. Everything was blurry (I didn’t wear glasses so it was weird), I was paralyzed from the neck down, I couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe without a ventilator and I couldn’t feel anything below my chest. My dad told me it was because I smoked weed the weekend before but I really just have an aggressive form of MS.
When I was in elementary school I cracked my skull because my sister thought it would be funny to push me over (I’m clumsy already). Also in second grade my cousin jumped on my arm while I was trying to get off the trampoline and broke my arm. My aunt told me to stop crying and it took days before someone listened to me.
In middle schools I drowned twice in two separate major white-water-rafting accidents.”
18. My stepfather would go into my room and anally rape me. It happened two or three times a month for at least two years.
“I was molested fairly often between the ages of 9-13~ by my stepfather. Basically my mother would take my brother to church to drop him off and he was an altar boy. My stepfather would go into my room and anally rape me. It happened 2-3 times a month for at least 2 years. I figured it happened at least 50 times. I knew it was going to happen and would dread it and no way to get away with it. He’d give me a few bucks afterwards so I just wanted it to get over it and go buy a Gatorade and candy with the money.
Basically my ass was always sore and super dry. He’d only use spit as lube and I used to wet toilet paper during the week and stick it next to my asshole to keep it moist. It led to me gaining a lot of weight since food became my outlet and it got to the point where I was going to kill myself at age 14. I ended up telling my dad about it and he called the police. My mother called me up the next day and told me I ruined her life, but she had no idea it was happening and I know she was going through a lot having it happen under her watch. She has since apologized but it stung deep to her, too.
He ended up getting six years in jail from it and then his nephew came forward sometime since I did and he got additional jail time. Therapy never really helped me but I never did to get fucked up or anything afterwards. People kept telling me I looked guilty of something so I let my goofy loud side take over and that took a long time not to be that person. It’s been 14 years since then and I am doing much better. I still think about it a few times a week and have nightmares every few months but fuck it, it’s in the past. I am still a virgin at 28, I really lost self-confidence from it but I am gaining it back. Basically every year life gets better and better.
My biggest fear has always been I would do the same thing to someone since statistically I am more likely to do it. I have no sexual desire at all for children and never have and actually had a thing for older women. Just that one statistic always scares me but i know it won’t be me.”
