furiousgoldfish:

When I was about
two years old, I pulled on a hanging plant and succeeded in pulling it down
from the top of the closet, and it fell directly onto my head, cutting it open,
and causing me to bleed severely. My parents often told me this story to remind
me what a bad, disobedient and nuisance child I was. I thought it was true,
after all, no good child goes out of their way to destroy plants and get head
injuries. What I can take from it now that nobody was watching over me even
when I was two. It wasn’t only child injury I had, I also fell from the trailer
onto the pavement directly on my head, spent days in bed, bleeding, vomiting.
They loved to remind me thats why I was so stupid, I got my head injured, it
was no wonder my brain wouldn’t work properly, that’s why nothing I ever said
would be smart or worth hearing. I thought it was my own fault, and that I
brought all that onto myself.

These people were
taking pleasure in an toddler suffering injuries they failed to protect it
from. Not only they weren’t worried something would happen to me, they punished
me for “making them worry”. If I would show up with an injury I would
be beaten to make up for all the “worry I caused them.”

This is how far
abusive parents are capable of twisting the child’s perspective of what
happened and whose fault it is. Even though facts display blatant neglect,
indifference and hatred on their side, they had no trouble convincing a child
it has done wrong, to simply be and exist and do as all children do. As
children have no frame of reference, and have to see themselves thru their
parent’s eyes to figure out what their role in family and society is, they have
no choice but to accept what they’re told, that they’re at fault for being
neglected, dismissed and hated.

Maybe what your
parents blame you for all this time wasn’t your fault at all. Maybe what
they’re making you feel bad for is something you didn’t even do. Maybe all this
time they’ve been making atrocities one after another and making you feel like
shit for simpy being there. Even though it was them also, who put you there.
Maybe there’s more to self hatred than facing your faults. Maybe they were
someone else’s fault, but you couldn’t tell, and were forced to take them on as
yours. Maybe there’s nothing you should be ashamed of. Maybe your parents
should feel that shame.