I got held back a year and my mom pins that for me. Every time I want to go out with friends or I do want to have fun, she says I’m “A special case” and that I’m different from the rest of the class. She makes me feel (no offense to anyone) retarded. Everyday I used to feel like the outcast of the class, the thought that I don’t fit in with the class. But I got over it eventually, I learned how to make my friends into my sort of family, and they really make my life a whole lot better now.
I’m not a kid anymore, and am happy to say that this shit is way behind me, but when I was around elementary school age my mother was dangerously obsessed with ‘boosting my immune system’. She had read a handful of popular science books that apparently were very light on the science part, and had made the conclusion that the immune system basically always works in accordance with the ‘whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’-principle. So she began to put little pieces of rotten food into my salad for example, and when I noticed and asked what the matter was, she said I should just shut up and eat.
I sometimes got a bit sick from this spoiled diet, but I wouldn’t complain now, had it stopped there. After I was hit with a rather bad case of the flu one winter, she got extremely worried and felt guilty that she hadn’t “done enough” to protect me. As soon as I was a bit better, she gave me a stinking leathery piece of meat and told me to eat it. I later found out it was the hind leg of decomposing rat she’d found in the attic… Things came to a head when I was 9, and she’d heard that a chickenpox infection was going around my school and she wouldn’t allow me to go, before I’d been properly “inoculated”. I spent about 3 days with her in my bedroom, she going out into the garden every few hours to gather random shit like mosses, weeds, crumbs of dirt and insect wings, which she would stick into a blender, heavily dilute and then inject into my arm.
When my father found out (I looked purple and cadaverous, by his account), he told her to stop this at once (he was, ironically, a lab technician who’d dropped out of medical school) and explained to her that putting rotten fruit into my food was sufficient to protect me from most types of infection. I moved out at the age of 16 and was glad to leave this insanity behind, though getting older, my views have changed somewhat, as it is strange how very rarely I get sick. Maybe my mom was onto something and just lacked the expertise to properly pull it off.
Beatings with jumper cables
Constantly asking me why I haven’t had kids. I tell my mum it’s because no one wants to settle down with me and perhaps there is something wrong with me. She just shrugs and says— hmmm I don’t Know what’s wrong with you.
Words coming out from their mouths especially when they are angry. I know that they just want to correct me, but the choice words they are using are like swords peircing my heart, literally hurting me.