Hi. I am a 16 year old girl and when I grow up in a bad household. My mom is an alcoholic and my dad is addicted to smoking. And they’re both addicted to fighting with each other. When I was a toddler, my parents cheated on each other and when my dad found out, he moved out of our house and into his side chicks house. She’s really nice but she sometimes has a temper and fights with my dad just like my mom does.
My mom kept the house and started drinking alcohol and started getting involved with drug dealers, often bringing them to our house and leaving them alone with us. Luckily these people never did anything to us, but they had the opportunity with my mom not there.
My mother became obese and never got up off the couch. She always made empty promises to us saying she was gonna take us places like Disney world and she would get us a dog. She never did any of that. And she completely stopped caring for us. At age 6, I made fed myself, tried to clean, and got myself dressed in the morning.
I missed A LOT of school. My mother didn’t really care to get us up in the morning and would even ask me and my sister (who is 2 years older than me) to stay home instead of going to school. Obviously me and my kid sister loved that idea and stayed home and would just watch YouTube videos. Our house was an absolute mess and we never went outside, ever.
I stayed with my mother primarily (during the weekdays), and went to my dads for weekends. My dad had no idea about my mother or our house. They never saw each other. He didn’t even know about how much school we were missing.
My dad wasn’t much of an improvement. He worked as a correctional officer at a prison and always was in a bad mood. He was very bipolar and you never knew what you were gonna get. Sometimes he was a nice funny guy who put his family first. But mostly, we were walking on eggshells with him. If the smallest thing didn’t go his way (ex. Putting blueberries in muffins a different way then he wanted us), he would scream at me, not let me talk (which he knows I hate), sometimes push me into a wall screaming in my face, take everything out of my room, and ground me for hours. Then after like, 4 hours he would let me out and pretend nothing happened.
He always was making fun of me. In front of family, friends, teachers, anyone. It could be passed off as normal teasing it wasn’t made up things, or told to other family members, or if it wasn’t said to me 24/7. He would always tell everyone that I gorged down an entire batch of cookies when I was 6, which, first of all, is entirely false, but he isn’t even joking. He tells everyone that with a straight face. He told people things like this to make himself look like the bigger person and everyone took his side, if I ever got upset then I would be told to stop crying because I look like a baby or he would just instigate further.
When I was about to turn 7, my dad had a baby with his girlfriend. My little brother. I was so happy that it was a boy because I wanted to know what it was like to have a brother. My dad always wanted a boy, but my brother never took priority.
CPS found out how many days of school me and my sister missed and called my dad out of work informing him that if we missed any more, then me and my sister would be taken away. He drove right out of work and to my mothers seeing the house that he put so much work into go to waste. I don’t remember if my mom was there, but I do remember my dad yelling at me and my sister to get on the bus.
I favored my mother over my father. Simply because she was nicer to me. She never yelled at us. Of course my little self didn’t understand what was happening with my mother, I just understood mommy = nice, daddy = mean.
When I was 8, my dad kinda broke up with his girlfriend, and moved back into our house, I despised the idea because I would never get a break from him anymore. every weekend at his house I was yelled at and grounded for tiny things would now become every day. My brother started coming to our house every other weekend.
My dad didn’t hesitate to start cleaning our house from head to toe. My mom didn’t do anything, she kept drinking and sitting on the couch, and quit her job for NO REASON. She said she wanted to be a “stay at home mom” but she didn’t do anything.
My parents also didn’t hesitate to start fighting again. Several times a day. Things somehow though, started getting a little more normal. Maybe because our house was getting a little cleaner, but as we started getting older, I noticed my sister stared to idolize my dad, because he was the dominant one, he made sure that everyone knew that he had the power. So whenever he made fun of me, my sister joined in with him and instigated it further. As my brother got older, he learned about instigating and would do things like laugh at me and spit at me and would say “yeah, go to your room”.
I never knew how mad this could make me. When my dad would yell at me for tiny things, my sister would call me names and my brother would laugh as my mother did nothing. I didn’t have any authority over them. So when my brother laughed at me, it was like saying that his big mouth thought that he had more power than me and it got me so pissed, that there were a few incidents where I ran up to him and smacked him across the face. That was followed by my sister calling me a psychopath while my dad chased me upstairs to smack me back.
This stuff happened daily. My dad favored my sister and brother because they were active and athletic while I wasn’t into running and baseball. My dad found ways to get on my nerves. Whenever I was sarcastic with him, he would call me things that he knew got me mad. Calling me an attention seeker or a psychopath. Being even more cruel to my mother.
This was when I started to yell back at my parents. I couldn’t do much with my dad because he would take everything away from me after chasing me around the house trying to hit me. This is also when I stopped idolizing my mother. I realized how abnormal my childhood was and how she was lazy and wouldn’t get off the couch.
My mom and dad lived on separate floors of the house and after my parents fought, my dad would bring me downstairs and would rant to me for hours about the same damn things about her that I already know. I know she doesn’t have a job, I know we have to clean up after her, I know she doesn’t move off the couch,I know. But he ranted about it to me again and again. Every day.
My mother did it too and they both would tell me that they are the victims and that I shouldn’t hang out with the other parent. And when I did, the other would get upset and say I am playing favorites.
When I was 13, I started becoming extremely self conscious about my body. Thinking I was too fat, hating my glasses, my teeth, my entire body. When I even mentioned it to my dad, he SCREAMED at me saying that I was a stick and that I was just looking for attention. My sister still idolizing him, said the same thing. My mother was nicer about it but still dismissed my concerns.
At a doctors appointment I took a mental health screening test and my answers concerned the doctors so my mom had me start going to therapy. Then I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, clinical depression, anxiety, hyper fixation. He also told me I had serious self esteem issues and Maladaptive daydreaming disorder (a reason that I was never outside of my room), Yet my dad told me every day that I thought to high of myself and that I had a god complex as if he knew what I actually thought about myself.
When I was 14, I hit rock bottom. I stayed up all night, not falling asleep until 8am, sleeping till 2 in the afternoon and dreading for when my dad would come home because god forbid I wasn’t outside enough he would start screaming at me. I hated the weekends more than anything because he didn’t work.
My mothers drinking finally got to her when she found out she has end stage liver disease. She overdosed meds she found in her room and I found her having a seizure and and me and my sister got my dad and we called 911. I noticed that my dad was screaming her name while giving her CPR, my sister ran to her room crying, but I just started pacing around not really feeling anything. Just thinking, trying to process what was happening.
She was taken to the hospital, and she was resuscitated and recovered quick getting back home ASAP and leaving the hospital AMA. I don’t know why. 2 days later she overdosed again, this time was worse and more stressful the paramedics took longer to get here and they were all yelling her name very loud and I just went in my sisters room and paced around as she cried.
She was saved again and came home. CPS got involved and kept her out of the house to evaluate her. I could have told them everything about her, but I didn’t want to be taken away. My whole family kept quiet about her and she was aloud back. But this time she came back with an attitude. She said that my dad wasn’t that heroic for saving her. Which lead to of course many fights, and ranting, and drama.
My mother was never in her room, which by the way, her room is the most disgusting pig sty that I’ve ever seen. Our household was falling apart more than normal. I become more depressed than usual and my self esteem was getting worse, which leads us to now. I am stuck in this broken family and I can’t go anywhere.
I don’t know what to do or who to talk to. What do I do.
I don’t know what to do
I don’t know anymore.
I dont know what to do anymore
I Don’t Know Myself Anymore
I don’t know what to do. 
