How to deal with my childhood problems?

1

I have never talked about my childhood to anyone before. I am now a young lady who’s ashamed of her past. I would like to share my stories because I’m in a process where I’m trying my best to open up to others. If you actually read through this, please give me your opinion on how I should cope with this? I keep on re-visiting my past, and I can never seems to let it rest.

I’ve had a rough childhood. I’ve never let anyone close to knowing the real me in person. I’ve never had nice clothes, a nice home, christmas presents, or fancy toys growing up. I moved to the US with my parents and two sisters when I was 7. We lived with my grandparents and uncle in a small condo. After moving to the US, there was not a single day that I didn’t hear family members fighting. My aunts and uncles didn’t give my dad much when we moved here.

It was December 2004, the coldest time during winter. I came home from school noticing my clothes and my parents’ clothes were thrown outside. My aunt kicked us out. My parents had no job. We had little to no money at all. We didn’t have a place to stay. My grandma and aunt refused to give us blankets and pillows. I remembered my mother asking for a blanket just so it would keep me warm. My grandma told her “You can’t have any blankets because they all belong to Tam (my aunt).” My grandpa was very sick at the time. He wasn’t able to speak up for us, but he did gave us the blanket that he was using. My grandma and aunt separated us from my two older sisters. Her excuse was it would be better if they stayed with them. So we left the house because there was nothing we could have done.

My parents somehow managed to rent a under construction garage. We didn’t have beds or food that night because everything was still so shocking for all of us. The garage didn’t have warm water or a heater so you can imagine how cold it gets at night. There was no kitchen either so we eventually installed a “kitchen” right outside the garage. We only had one blanket that my grandpa specifically gave us after we were kicked out. No bed, no bed sheets, no pillows, or anything really.

For the next few years, I grew up without celebrating christmas, halloween, thanksgiving, or any fancy/fun holidays. My parents barely made enough to support the whole family. Every time that I was allowed to go back and visit my grandparents, my aunt and everyone else would comments on my appearance. Throughout my time in elementary, they would make comments on how I needed to go on diet because supposedly I was getting “too fat”. I was 4’0 ft and weighing 80lbs for a 5th grader. Everything they says eventually got to me. I started dieting at the age of 11 years old. We barely had enough food at my parents place, and yet I was dieting.

During this time my parents didn’t have any valuable things because they were all taken away by my aunt. The only valuable thing we had was an old run down truck that was given to my dad by my aunt’s husband when we first got over here. We never had any extra money because of that truck. It was always broken in one way or another. We spent over $10,000 during those years just to fixed that darn truck.

I was never allowed to go out and hang out with my friends outside of school. I never had any close friends because I was still learning English. It was difficult for me to portray what was happening at home when no one could understand me.

I was very sensitive when people would ask me about my clothing or my appearance. My parents couldn’t afford to take me back to school shopping for clothes. I got whatever hand me down clothes that my parents’ friends’ kid didn’t want to use. I remember when the best clothes we could afford was from Walmart No, it wasn’t the $20+ shirts. We waited until they have sale and etc. One time my mom bought me a jacket to use, that was the first time we’ve spent over $25 on any clothing items.

I was really happy until I went to school the next day. I was picked on by this guy who was supposed to help me translate. I felt angry, but I couldn’t speak up for myself. No one stood up for me. Everyone laughed at what he was saying. I remembered he would take my jackets, and place it in the guys’ restroom or throw it on top of the swing set. Everyone seems to be having so much fun whenever they picked on me whether it was because of my accents or my appearance.

I ended up growing up without actually being able to open up to people around me. I felt like they were going judge me if they knew the truth since they were acting like a bunch of savages. My childhood was a disaster and no one knows how I felt, not even my parents. I never express my feelings to my parents because in my family it’s called “back talking” or “making up nonsense.”

I was a victim of a perverted man that my dad called as his best friend. I used to stay over at his shop to wait for my parents, and he would end up telling me to do inappropriate things for him. I was friend with his daughter, but we weren’t close. She hated me because of how I always had to stay over, and how her parents would tell her to be nice to me. I never told her what her dad did to me. Having to face her every day now, is a nightmare.

When we used to have assignments about our childhood, I’d make up stories that I wished was actually true. I felt like if I tell others about my childhood, they’ll either judge me badly or pitied me. I have had enough pity from all of my parents’ friends all those years.

I began to developed bad immune system from all the unhealthy food lifestyle & a bad case of asthma after living in the moldy garage for about 5-6 years. Even until now, I still am on medication for my immune system, and I have to carry my inhaler everywhere.

All my time being here in the US, the only time I can remember that I actually started learning how to open up/be happy was when I was in middle school. I met new friends, and I eventually had my first bf. We didn’t do anything nasty, by the way. He was always there to comfort me. He taught me how to love myself. We dated for the whole middle school time. I’ve always struggled with depression growing up, and he was the first person to help me through the stages of getting over it. My grandpa died on my 13th birthday. No one from my extended family told us anything. We found out through a newspaper article. I was devastated. I’ve always respected and loved my grandpa. They denied my rights to see him before he died, and even to the point where they hid the funeral from us. My then boyfriend was there through it all. He saw me at my worst and still managed to stick around. This was something I have never experienced before since everyone that I was closed with seems to disappeared from my life.

High school comes around, and my parents forced me to go to a different high school in order to cut all communication with my extended family. Once again, I start to feel like I’m lost. I broke things off with the one guy that was able to get me to share my thoughts to him. I felt like it might be too much for him. He was still there for me, but I couldn’t stop pushing him away.

For most of my high school life, I have never felt like I’m accepted. Once again I started to have the same feelings that I had as a child at that elementary school without any friends. I’d talk to people and join clubs, but none of them seems to fit me. No one in the school actually knows how the thought of waking up and entering the school makes me feel terrify. Everyone at my school seems to judge everyone else for basically anything about their past. It’s up to a point that I feel like I will never be able to speak to anyone about my childhood without being judge by them. The teachers at my school pick the kids that are usually the most outgoing, most popular, and rich. I don’t know anymore. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been living in hell for most of my life. I miss my ex a lot, but I’m not sure if I’m able to explain why I broke up with him though.

I’ve felt so horrible to the point that I would cry myself to sleep every night for my whole entire freshman year. Eventually, I started to developed depression again, and this time there’s no one to help me. I can’t talk to anyone in my family about this, and I can’t talk to my friends either because I started to drift away from my friends at my old school. I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m just going insane.

Category: Tags: asked August 15, 2013

3 Answers

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You're friends and your ex-boyfriend will always care for you. You are not alone. Go talk to your ex. Being friends is better than being alone. You don't deserve any of this and you are very strong. You can get through this. Just go to your friends and ex boyfriend. Dont be afraid. Let your words be anything but empty, tell them the truth. Say what you want to say, Let the words fall out. Be brave.
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You have friends and your ex boyfriend who are always there for you. You're not alone. You should talk to your ex because it's better to be friends then being alone through all of this. Don't be scared to go to your friends and ex boyfriend and share your story. Be brave, let the words slip out.
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Thank you for sharing your childhood story. I'm sure it wasn't easy, but talking about it it's the first step, and i'm glad you shared your story. You don't deserve all that has happen to you over the years, and it makes me sad that you've gone through it. You should really talk to your ex, i agree, and try to reconnect with your friends - you need some support and help and a friend shoulder to lean on. Your childhood made you strong, never forget that.