I need to spit it out

[Phobia]

Hi folks.

It's been a while since I felt this bad. I've already been depressed five years ago but since two years I was happy again. Well, since last February. I feel terribly low.

I just want to spit my whole lifestory out so... why not? But I'll keep it as short as possible. Oh, and I already apologize for the mistakes. I'm from Belgium and I've never had English lessons.
---

All my little and big problems started at home. My brother and father never really get along. There was always fight (physically and mentally) and if it was calm in the house, there were those tensions between them wherefrom you know that it wasn't calm. We moved to another house when I was 10, my brother was 14. And from there one the troubles really started. My father almost killed my brother when he was really angry when my brother was 8. He never putted that in perspective so when my brother was in his teenagers years and got stronger and my old father got weaker: my brother decided to strike back. At first, I was shocked as 10 year old girl seeing what my brother was doing. I was shocked and didn't know what was happening. I screamed, cried, tried to stop my brother (even though I had a little bit hate grown for my father.. not only my brother got physically abused, me too, but I was the little girl.. what could I've possibly done?). My mother eventually called the police and they shocked my brother because he got scared of their appearance. Though.. my mum never called when my father was going mad...

Every month there was a fight. All the attention goes to my brother, so, idk, I was never really special. I just cried, sat in my room, cried. That was my live. My brother became sometimes so angry that he attacked me , but afterwards he talked with me and gained trust again. His last "attack" was when I was 13 and when I was 13 I had a disgusting year.

Because of all the troubles at home, I got sick of school. I was always the smartest of the class with the most ambitions and the highest notes blah blah blah. Y'know the stuff. My father always said proudly that I was the perfect daughter at family party's but at home... nope. Not even a glance to give me attention. So I worked hard to get attention, I guess at this point. But back to the part where I was 13: I stopped with going to school. I simply could not do it anymore. I was sick of it. All the fights, all the tears. Every single thing. I couldn't handle it anymore.

So I skipped school the whole year, got sick of stress, went to the hospitality with an injury in my stomach and got operated (though, it was nothing bad. In the end it was from the stress so I just got the advice to take it easy... well yeah.. try to take it easy at my house.)

With all the skipping and not going to school, I went to the finals anyway because failing your first year of high school is kind of... sucky. And my friends were already disgusted, it seemed, so I asked for papers and studied. (Oh, for the note, I did in my first year the highest what you can do in Belgium: Latin) Surprisingly enough I had 66% with the finals and basically I could've go to my second year, but the teachers wanted to punish me and they said I had to do my year over.

I changed school and that's the point where I asked my mom if I could go to school as an intern. Mom agreed and when school started, I left all the troubles behind and went to school. I met new people and had a lovely time. In the weeks, I was doing great, but then there were weekends at home: hell. But I got through the hell. I didn't really care about the fights anymore after two months until my mom was picking me up on a friday before the first break with a blue eye and I knew enough.

The break was terrible. Not just one fight in a week it were two really terrible fights in a week. The police (just like every month) came with a sigh and a really annoyed face over and they took my brother with them (for the first time) and things happened there. Because that was the first fight and that was why there was an angry second fight: bc of what happened in the police office my brother was really angry and almost blinded my dad. I remember crying in my bed while my mom locked my room shakily while calling the police (again). I wish I could erase that memory. So anyhow, that was the day my brother went BACK to the police office without returning. He needed to be placed somewhere else: this couldn't go along anymore.
So my brother went to my grandparents and he stayed there. Through the years, my brother was a real bitch to me, but at the end: we understand each other best. Bc we both know how our dad abused us and how he was a mad man and we both know how extremely stupid (but lovely) our mom can be. So through the years we were bound with a strange relation, but I like it, because I can talk nowadays with him about what I want without feeling embarrassed. Even about sexual things so idk. I think we did a great job figuring our relation out on our own.

But where was I? Oh.. so my brother was gone. I missed him and I started skipping school again: I simply couldn't do it anymore, not again. I simply hated myself for everything. For skipping but also for going to school because then I had a great time meanwhile at "home" I felt so bad. But anyway.. it couldn't go on long: I got in big troubles when the government didn't approve what I was doing so I had to go to juvenile court. Terrible terrible terrible news. I had breakdowns because I had led it this far but I stayed strong and just went to the tribunal and had the worse time in my life. The people were rude and thought that I was a terrible daughter which just did what she wanted (meanwhile I was just skipping school and hating/locking myself in my room for the whole world) so anyhow. They were rude and almost barked at my as aggressive dogs.

The judge sent me to an institution. Idk how you say it in English, but that's the best word I can find.
It's a place where youngsters go if they raped somebody, killed somebody, robbed somebody or are on drugs. Meanwhile I'm this little 14 year old girl with emotional troubles because of what happens at home.
When I was there, I remember this boy who touched my boobs and when I said "no" he slapped me so I ran away. And I remember two girls who always said to me: "C'mon, just try a little bit of this.. it's coke, great stuff!" But I stayed strong and said: no. Bc I didn't want more troubles.
Oh, what I remember the most are those lovely people saying: "Whatever is wrong, you can always find us and talk to us."
So I had always emotional breakdowns of anxiety in new environments so I went crying to one of those people and she said to me: "Yeah, what d'you want? A hug? Just go to sleep, kid. As if I can possibly help something like you."
I cried that night so long that I felt really weak the next morning.

Idk how, but I survived. I survived those two months with crying but I knew that I was going down really fast and really bad. Back at home, I didn't want to do anything but sleep, lock myself in my room, I didn't talk to people and when I did: I smiled. My parents didn't really care. They were always at work so when they got home and asked what I did in the summer I was like: just went to friends, had a great time. And I smiled. It worked, until school started again... I wasn't welcome anymore in my old school because they said that I was a horrible student (yeah sure) so I had to find a new school meanwhile different help organisations passed our house to help us. always saying: we promise you that we'll help you, but never succeeding. So after 10 different kind of organizations I kind of stopped believing and expecting and just gave the information that they wanted. I was always open, but if you take one wrong step you lose my trust. And with the 13th organizations everything went okay until the woman I talked with said that I was depressed and needed to go to a hospital. A psychological hospital. I hated her: i just wanted to lock myself from people, hate myself, cut myself, make plans to kill myself, I didn't need help when I was this close to death!

But yeah. The day came that I had to go to the intake and a week later they already let me in the hospital because help was necessary, they said. They were right, I know now, but at that point I was really stubborn. Normally, you're there for 2 months. I was there 5 months. Two months of completely silence, the next month they gained a lot of trust, the fourth month everything went great and I trusted them that much that, when I had an emotional breakdown in my bed and I had my scissors (they didn't know, oops) in my hand I just pressed the red button. I needed help, but I putted my scissors underneath my blanked and cried. Just cried. And the man said: "Look, Eve, we can not help you. Y'know. But I'll brief this to your individual leader so he knows that you're not okay, okay?" And what could I've said? No? No. So I said okay and he was gone and I was in my room, still crying. So I self-harmed. Nobody saw it, until we went to the pool one day but the people were afraid for a new breakdown so didn't ask. But three weeks later, I pressed the red button again and again someone said: "we cannot help you" and then it was over.
If you cannot help me, what am I doing right there?

In the weekend I went back home and I refused to go back that sunday evening. I refused and I didn't. They called but I didn't answer the phones and they didn't sent an ambulance so... I was worthless, right? Yes. I am worthless.

But strange enough, after the good days in the hospital there was the summer break of lovely 8 weeks and I had contact agian with my friends so I had a good summer that year, to be honest. The people in the hospital showed me how to live a better life and it worked. School started again and I didn't need to go to school: I started a special project and it worked out in a good way. It's a project where you can get a diploma without going to school but you have to study on your own and go to Brussels to make the finals and if you've done all the lessons, you have your diploma. I started previous year this time and I only have 3 exams left. So I'm doing pretty great, in my opinion. Anyhow. I went back to school as a free student (something special). Until December everything went great, but in December my brother asked my parents if he could live again here. Here. HERE. Were all the shit started. In all those years, my brother and I held contact and the contact was poor but it was there between my brother and my mother. Only my father was yeah... was not going great but he's old right now and my brother is 21 so he knows what he's doing. So my mother and father agreed (what was a big surprise in my eyes) and now my brother lives here again.

There are so much tensions in this house, I can't almost hold it anymore, but there are so many good moments. We laugh together and sometimes we watch with 4 of us to the telly! That's like the most wow-thing ever! We never did that when I was 12 or something, we always hated to watch each others programs but idk...

But still, those tensions are so intens for me. It gives me so much anxiety feelings that I don't feel comfortable anymore. I am already 2 months home from school (but it was going so good! I hate myself right now) and idk.. I just feel really bad and I know I shouldn't, bc things are "normal" again and I don't want my brother to go away because I really love him, but I think it's time for me to leave this house.. well guess what? There is no place to go. Not family, they hate us/me (I am the weird daughter that went from "perfect" to "bullshit" and didn't go to school for years), not special organizations (mom and dad don't have the money) and they cannot pay a flat for me and I cannot work. In Belgium you can work from your 16th but with a maximum salary and I cannot care a house with that salary so idk.)

And I don't even know what I'm saying. I just want some recognition for all the things I've been through. There is a lovely woman at school that knows me from the beginning of school and she knows my situation and every time when I tell her about something (like the hospital) she didn't knew before, she is like: "You really did that? I didn't know? And you can still sit here with a smile! Wow, lady, you've got some balls, don't you?!"
And I hated her from September until December because I hated when people give me compliments, but know I feel like I've missed 5 years of affection and I just need a bunch of affection , love and tenderness that my parents never gave me. I just feel so bad. I just wish people knew what I've been through and what I felt. The worst part is, I already didn't self-harm for 2 years now, almost exactly 2 years, and now I really want to so badly. So badly and that is how I know I'm feeling really really really bad because I literally didn't think about it in two years, since leaving the hospital.

And probably the worst part is that I know that I'm almost 17 and I'm fat, I haven't done anything with my life yet and I live in anxiety. I know I should find help, but I know that I cannot pay the help I need and I don't think my parents will help me through this. And I really do not know what I need to do right now. People from school are begging me to come but I am just so tired and so stressed out, I really can't get out of bed before 11AM.


So okay. I spitted it out. I've said my word, I've told my story. I'm going to sleep right now and we will see what tomorrow brings.


Thank you for reading. I am not giving up.

[jj]

Hugs, Phobia. Thanks for sharing your story and I'm sorry for everything you've been through and those people who said you were beyond help that's just horrible... and untrue.

You are so strong and you've come this far. Things can get better again, and they will, in time, you just need to give yourself the best chance and keep trying like you do each day.

How do you manage your anxiety?

Keep strong, and if you get urges try to talk to someone about it when you're feeling that way, or try to distract yourself until the urge goes. Think about why you stopped in the first place, and where you want to be in the future. What helps me is to try to imagine myself 10 years from now, what I'll be doing, what I'll be saying, what I will look like, how my life will be, and I try to imagine it self harm free. And that gets me through the urges

Take care

jj