www.whyville.net Sep 7, 2008 Weekly Issue

Times Writer

Emotional Abuse

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I'm sitting by my computer, lonely and crying. I need someone to talk to so I sign onto MSN. Look at all the friends I have - yet I still feel so alone. I just don't have that friend. That one person who you can tell everything to, even though I'm that friend for a lot of people. I listen to everyone else's problems but I don't want to tell anyone mine. I don't want people worrying about me, thinking "Jess' family is corrupt. They're abusive. She's got neglectful parents."

In real life I act happy and put on a fake smile so no one suspects the academic athlete has a bad life at home. I'm grateful that I've got two parents when so many people in the world don't even have one. But what's the point of having parents, especially if they're abusive like mine? It's the aftermath of a fight I had with my parents. They just told me that I am useless, worthless and that they don't love me. The truth is, they never have.

They tell me that I can't do anything. What? I don't understand why they'd say that. I do my father's banking online. I help my mother with her reading because her English isn't perfect. I am always at hand to assist anyone with their needs. I let people take advantage of me. When a friend or a family member is in trouble and asks me for help, I immediately drop what I'm doing to help them. It's because I sympathize. I have a heart for people. I know that if I was in their situation, I'd want someone like me to help them out. It's only good karma, right?

Wrong. My family doesn't appreciate me. When I help them, they don't show me compassion or gratitude. They don't say "Thanks," they just get on with their day. Once I asked my mother why she never says "Thank you" to me. She simply told me that it's implied. Then I told her that I need to hear "Thank you" once in a while, to feel appreciated. To feel that my parents care and are thankful for my help. However, my mother just brushed me off. She shrugged and continued on with her work, leaving me standing in the middle of the kitchen, wondering why she had ignored me.

My father says that he doesn't love me. He tells me that I'm worthless. That I never listen to anyone but myself, that I never consider anyone else's feelings except mine. Once, he opened the front door and told me to get out of the house, to leave his family. He said at least he has one good child, my sister Erika, and he doesn't need anymore. He hates me and I don't know why. When he's in a good mood, I tell him that it makes me feel sad when he insults me. I tell him not to say these things. But he doesn't say "okay" or acknowledge my presence. I feel so helpless.

When they tell me things like that, I become enraged. I get confused and I start crying. Tears immediately pour down my cheeks. I usually cry for hours. Why don't they love me? What did I do wrong? I ponder these unanswered questions in my head. When will they be answered? I am sensitive. Don't my parents know that by now? When someone tells me something negative about myself, I cry. I get hurt. I don't like to feel hurt or sad. Any negative or depressed emotion and I feel like the useless piece of trash that my parents say I am.

So what am I to do? For months, I remember the hurtful and mean things my parents say to me. I try letting these emotions go but they come flooding back. They treat me like dirt. They metaphorically kick me down. I find solace in the fact that they would never physically abuse me - that's against the law. But they sure do emotionally abuse me. Everyday.

I've thought about committing suicide. But I only think about what my friends and family would do without me. I've had a lot of deaths in my family, mostly because of cancer. It's tragic and everyone grieves for years. There's this feeling you get when someone dies and it's the worst feeling in the world. I don't want my loved ones to feel that way about me. I know that I can do so much more with my life, that I can overcome this sadness. I don't want to give up my life - it's the most precious, sacred and valuable thing that a person has. They say that virginity is precious. Who cares about virginity if you haven't got a life to live?

No one knows this, but for so many nights I cried myself to sleep. My pillow often gets drenched with tears so much so that I have to switch pillows. I feel so sad inside. No one understands this sadness. No one. I've tried to explain it, to write it down and describe it. But it just sounds whiny and childish. I feel sad - see how pathetic that sounded? It's like you feel as if you're alone in the world. You try to think happy thoughts, but you can't think straight and your eyes become watery. You just sit there and wipe your tears and wonder why. Why don't they love me?

Editor's Note: I would like to thank Holiday50 for writing a deeply personal article. I'd also like to remind everyone, that domestic abuse can be both physical and emotional. If you are experiencing something similar to this, please contact your teacher or local police officers. No one deserves to be abused, not by anyone, especially by your family. Remember, there are people who DO care.


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