My True Story #No62
"My childhood was a sort of living hell to say the least..." - Kaya
"Trying to keep my story brief is difficult. I'm currently turning 23 this month but I feel like I've lived so, so much longer...
My childhood was a sort of living hell to say the least, both my parents were abusive in every sense. Physically, emotionally, verbally.
My mother would starve me because of her so called 'fat phobia'. I was always ribs, collarbones and a thigh gap. The type of physical abuse I received was unimaginable.
There was an instance where my mother beat me continuously for three days straight over no reason. I was cut off from friends and family, sometimes locked in my room for days without anything to eat or drink, no sanitation. There was a time where I was on my period and my mother had locked me in my room for two days. That was one of the worst times of my life.
I left that home finally when I was 15 to live with my grandparents who offered to keep me. My grandfather was my rock, my guardian angel. We were inseparable. He always kept me smiling even when I felt like dying.
5 months later my grandfather had an accident where he injured his spine. My grandmother refused to let him go to the hospital, she thought he was being dramatic. He was in so much pain and his health started to deteriorate. He passed away a month later. After the post mortem, we were told his spine was broken.
I blamed my grandmother for his death and still do to this day.
That was the beginning of the darkest time of my life. I spiralled down into the worst mental state of my life.
I stopped bathing, I stopped eating, I didn't get up from my bed for days on end. I slept and slept and slept because reality was too painful to live in. I was alone, had no one.
This chronic depression brought on PTSD, chronic anxiety and Bipolar Disorder too, all which I was later diagnosed with. But not before I attempted suicide twice.
My grandma is very old fashioned and doesn't understand mental illness, she assumed I was attention seeking and being satanic of something of the sort.
Finally this year, after I had a manic breakdown in front of my grandmother and some other family members, they took me to a doctor who assessed me, put me on medication and started my therapy.
I was very sceptical about medication as so many people had told me it was useless, or had too many side effects.
The medication first off all was a godsend for me. It made a huge difference right away. Yes it did make me quite numb for a while, but for me that was a minor side effect, everything else was too good, the medication worked like a dream. I'm still in therapy and still on a high dose of the medication, but my life has changed for the better. I would urge everyone who's suffering to see a professional and at least attempt therapy or medication. It helped someone as ill as me, it could help you too.“
real story shared by @carnal.exploit