TumblrFeed

Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure

Traumatic Childhood - Blog Posts

1 year ago
Finally Redrew One Of My Favorite Older Ocs💚💚💚 My Radioactive Traumatized Baby Renea!! I Made
Finally Redrew One Of My Favorite Older Ocs💚💚💚 My Radioactive Traumatized Baby Renea!! I Made
Finally Redrew One Of My Favorite Older Ocs💚💚💚 My Radioactive Traumatized Baby Renea!! I Made
Finally Redrew One Of My Favorite Older Ocs💚💚💚 My Radioactive Traumatized Baby Renea!! I Made

Finally redrew one of my favorite older ocs💚💚💚 my radioactive traumatized baby Renea!! i made her in for a science project in the 8th grade and she spiralled into a whole X-men/BNHA type universe with over 140 ocs😃 little me went crazy

Finally Redrew One Of My Favorite Older Ocs💚💚💚 My Radioactive Traumatized Baby Renea!! I Made

flashback to when little Bee was lazy and didnt even try to give her black hair🙃


Tags
1 year ago

When abusive parents hurt you, they're not 'doing it for your own good' or 'disciplining you', they're singling you out and making you a target. Because they're not doing it to all other kids, they're not doing it to their guests, friends, coworkers, bosses, neighbours, it doesn't even count if all of those people make one of the same mistakes you do. It's allowed for them. It's okay if anyone else does it. It's okay if other people break things, or refuse to be controlled, or speak up, or demand something, or act selfish, or act childish, or don't cater endlessly, or don't guess their moods, or don't act submissive, it's okay for everyone else! Just not for you!

What exactly is that teaching you?

That you're different. That the brutal and torturous rules exist only for you. That you are the only one who deserves no allowances, no forgiveness, no gentleness, no tolerance, no nuance, no love. And you are the only one! Everyone else can get those things and do what they want, but you will get tortured for it, you'll get tortured even for things you didn't do, because these two people have singled you out and deserved that you're so rotten you deserve worse treatment than any other person alive. And those people are your parents, they made you.

It teaches you injustice, it teaches you to put yourself in a different category than anyone else in the world and to assume you must be so intrinsically different that you won't ever find community, you won't ever find somebody to be on your side or similar to you, because you are the only one who could ever deserve this kind of hatred. It separates you from humanity and makes you feel like you don't belong, like you don't have a home here, it makes you abandoned by everyone because nobody is stating anything different about you. With their silence, dismissal and neglect, everyone is passively agreeing that this is what you deserve. That it doesn't matter to them if you live in pain and despair because you're too different, too otherworldly for them to care about.

No child has deserved to feel like that. Nobody is supposed to be pushed into that pit of despair, injustice and pain, alone, with no visible way out. With nothing they can do to redeem themselves, to find a way to see themselves as human after all that's been done to them. This is not a pit that somebody can easily crawl out of, this is something that can follow you all your life.

All children deserve better than this. Never defend abusive parents when they do this to a child. If you don't want a child to believe themselves to be a monster, don't ignore when this is happening and don't act like it's none of anybody's business. It's all of our business to make sure no kid thinks this lowly of themselves, not even if their parents decide they should. Parents who do this to children should be charged with torture, isolation and psychological devastation of a human being. All children are human. And no child deserves that.


Tags
2 months ago

Sometimes growing up is being given a large left boot all polished and pretty but nothing else and being told that "You'll grow into it someday." they've given you nothin' but a boot and expect you to hobble around barefoot until it fits.

So you stuff it in your drawer for that someday while walking around barefoot waiting for the day the shoe fits. It'll fit you someday. And you'll fit it back someday. Someday.

You open the drawer over and over again thinking "Maybe today is the day." but it isn't. You sit there wanting to cry because your feet are sore and tired with your skin begging to finally fall off the bone and you've been waiting for the damn shoe to fit all this time. To just fucking fit you. Fucking fit you because you were told it would and you've only those words to trust.

Years go by, and the shoe still don't fit. Either it's too big or too small for your foot. You've torn holes into it trying to force it to fit your foot and it's holding on by string and leather. It's far from the perfect boot it was when you first got it. And a whole lot closer to a single torn sole of a boot left in some small town backyard.

All you know is that it'll fit you. And you've had nothing but the focused pain in your scabbed feet to carry you around. It has to fit you. It has to. It has to or you've spent all this time waiting for it to fit and it never will. Then you focus on the never will part. Really, what if it never does? If it never does and you've spent all the time in pain waiting and waiting and waiting for nothing? Dese God you hope that's not it.

It's been decades and there's all kinds of shoe stores in your area with good boots looking real pretty in the windows. You hold out. You refuse to buy them because your boot WILL fit. It WILL. You go home and look in that drawer one last time. Dig the left boot out and put it on your begging left foot. There are two ways this can go although those two ways can lead to different things in the future. Way one, it doesn't fit. Again, it's too small or too big. You sit there frustrated because its been decades and you're not sure if the boot has decades more to go based on how worn it is. You're not sure if your feet have decades based on how worn they are. You're not sure if you have decades. Now what? Way two, it does fit. It finally fits. But, you only have a single left boot. You've waited all this time and there's no right boot to fit your worn and torn right foot. Now what?

Those two ways can lead to plenty of now whats. You waited decades for a single boot to fit you and for a single foot to fit it back. And it was all in vain. You have no shoe you can depend on now because it's all frilled leather and frayed lace that's one try on away from turning into dust. And it was all in vain. You wonder for the rest of your life about that boot. There'll be plenty of other boots and but they'll never be that boot. Solace is both found and not found.

That's it. Sometimes your childhood is a boot that you're waiting to fit so bad it becomes a religion and that's all you have to go off of. This is a 10:38 rant so yeah. Yeah that's it.

Sometimes Growing Up Is Being Given A Large Left Boot All Polished And Pretty But Nothing Else And Being

Tags
3 months ago

Sometimes I look back at my memories and think "Yeah no, my childhood wasn't that much it was pretty normal."

Cue someone asking me what it was like and the complete dread that passes through me as my brain intentionally tries to sift through the river for normal memories because you don't share some messed up shit with most strangers unless ya' want to and everytime it comes up really blurred or practically nonexistent. And that makes me realize that yeah, my childhood wasn't actually normal. Does someone with a normal childhood need to search every nook and cranny of their memories for a single memory that they can comfortably share with someone and come up short each time? Probably not.

Alone I can convince myself of having a normal enough childhood but that's because my brain accepts a single moment out of hundreds that was relatively normal enough to count and then immediately takes it as a "Yeah that works, it was a good childhood."

Hell my brain can barely remember most of my childhood not because of a lack of memory but because it just won't show up. I search and search and it's all a blurry mass of "Yeah I was alive at that point." But like, that's not what I'm looking for. I'm looking for what I did when I was alive. But yeah, brains are flippin' weird.


Tags
Loading...
End of content
No more pages to load
Explore Tumblr Blog
Search Through Tumblr Tags