daesung
唯一無二。。。と少し奇妙な！
If you know me already, you know how amazingly hilarious I can be. How weird and random I can be. And how many fandoms I like. Or maybe when I'm roleplaying, I have a sense of individuality in my characters that I play as, and then you would realize that they have a bit of my personality in it.
My life wasn't horrible. But it wasn't amazing.
For those who don't know me, or who I am, or maybe you have seen my username in forums, I welcome you to my thread.
But no matter if you know me online, know me in real life, or just don't know me at all...
You don't know my story.
**
My life was a series of ups and downs of events. My mom was single by the time I was 3, and my brother was 1. When we were young, she worked at a government building. Veteran Affairs or some sort. She was in the military and then she studied law, so it made sense.
She dealt with claims, so she was always busy. When me and my brother went to Catholic school, she would drop us off at my grandma's house at 4 in the morning. Or sometimes she would take us to this Mexican babysitter my abuelo knew. She was very strict. But she always made us quesadillas, or alphabet soup, or maybe even enchiladas. When we would arrive back home from school, we would take a bus back to my babysitter's house, and my grandma would pick us up later.
Despite the fact that I grew up in a Mexican enviroment and that I learned español, I still had trouble at home. On weekends, I always drew pictures, and wrote random stuff, and watched anime. Everytime I tried to get my mom's attention, "Mom! I drew something for you!" Or "Mommy! Look at this!"
"Ana, leave me alone. I'm working."
You know, some other kids would just got to their dad.
I didn't have one.
I'd just be disappointed and walk away. Or I would beg her to look at what I did, or drew, or had written for her. I always made drawings for her.
That stopped when I was 6.
I started to go to the casa de mi abuelo y abuela.
I learned Spanish there.
My grandpa spoiled me. He bought me all sorts of gifts from the Mexican supermarket on Sundays. And I would always pick out the food with Tapatío, my favorite hot sause from Mexico.
He treated me well. However, my younger brother was not spoiled because my mom paid more attention to him.
That's a different story.
After many years of drawing for him, and him buying me stuff, and him treating me like I belonged, it all stopped at once. My step-dad arrived in position as my father.
At first, he was really nice. He knew how to bake, and cook, sew, everything a lady back in the day would know how to do. He was only raised by his grandma, so it makes sense.
He was Austrian. An old-school, strict and very tough Austrian. Robert was his name. He was also in the military, and he has PTSD. I have nothing against him now, but I thought he was the best dad ever.
I was somewhat wrong in my opinion.
He sometimes abused me and my brother, and of course my step-brother, Rob's son. He told me never to speak Spanish, he didn't like how I spoke it. My Spanish faded, now I can barely speak it without thinking about what I'm saying.
Porque? No se. (Why? I don't know.)
No estoy seguro de cómo estoy escribiendo esto. (I am not sure how I am writing this.)
My life started to change.
English was my main language, and I couldn't change that now.
He left some bruises on me, more on my brother, and a ton on my step-brother.
My step-brother is gone now, he was kicked out.
To quicken things up a bit, I'll bullet out what happened during this time also.
Now that I don't nessesarily have to deal with that anymore (I mean, my step-dad is still here), I still am affected by it.)
I don't have many friends. And I like having people to talk to. I'm not doing this for attention.
My life wasn't horrible. But it wasn't amazing.
For those who don't know me, or who I am, or maybe you have seen my username in forums, I welcome you to my thread.
But no matter if you know me online, know me in real life, or just don't know me at all...
You don't know my story.
**
My life was a series of ups and downs of events. My mom was single by the time I was 3, and my brother was 1. When we were young, she worked at a government building. Veteran Affairs or some sort. She was in the military and then she studied law, so it made sense.
She dealt with claims, so she was always busy. When me and my brother went to Catholic school, she would drop us off at my grandma's house at 4 in the morning. Or sometimes she would take us to this Mexican babysitter my abuelo knew. She was very strict. But she always made us quesadillas, or alphabet soup, or maybe even enchiladas. When we would arrive back home from school, we would take a bus back to my babysitter's house, and my grandma would pick us up later.
Despite the fact that I grew up in a Mexican enviroment and that I learned español, I still had trouble at home. On weekends, I always drew pictures, and wrote random stuff, and watched anime. Everytime I tried to get my mom's attention, "Mom! I drew something for you!" Or "Mommy! Look at this!"
"Ana, leave me alone. I'm working."
You know, some other kids would just got to their dad.
I didn't have one.
I'd just be disappointed and walk away. Or I would beg her to look at what I did, or drew, or had written for her. I always made drawings for her.
That stopped when I was 6.
I started to go to the casa de mi abuelo y abuela.
I learned Spanish there.
My grandpa spoiled me. He bought me all sorts of gifts from the Mexican supermarket on Sundays. And I would always pick out the food with Tapatío, my favorite hot sause from Mexico.
He treated me well. However, my younger brother was not spoiled because my mom paid more attention to him.
That's a different story.
After many years of drawing for him, and him buying me stuff, and him treating me like I belonged, it all stopped at once. My step-dad arrived in position as my father.
At first, he was really nice. He knew how to bake, and cook, sew, everything a lady back in the day would know how to do. He was only raised by his grandma, so it makes sense.
He was Austrian. An old-school, strict and very tough Austrian. Robert was his name. He was also in the military, and he has PTSD. I have nothing against him now, but I thought he was the best dad ever.
I was somewhat wrong in my opinion.
He sometimes abused me and my brother, and of course my step-brother, Rob's son. He told me never to speak Spanish, he didn't like how I spoke it. My Spanish faded, now I can barely speak it without thinking about what I'm saying.
Porque? No se. (Why? I don't know.)
No estoy seguro de cómo estoy escribiendo esto. (I am not sure how I am writing this.)
My life started to change.
English was my main language, and I couldn't change that now.
He left some bruises on me, more on my brother, and a ton on my step-brother.
My step-brother is gone now, he was kicked out.
To quicken things up a bit, I'll bullet out what happened during this time also.
- My brother was actually sexually and physically abusing me at this time, which is one of the reasons he got kicked out
- Two men that my mom dated abused her. I witnessed it, I couldn't do anything about it. I called my grandpa once out of fear and.. that was the first time the police arrived at my house
- I learned how to call the police. Soon, they came more often. They came at least 12 times during 2015 and more than 20 during 2016. They came only once so far here in 2017.
- My grandma died of lung cancer. This was a shock for me. I knew her personally, and I could always tell her anything. I feel like my trust issues turned into something more after she died
- My grandpa started dating someone as soon as she died. This hurt my feelings. But I'm sure she was in denial.
- My mom used to hit me when I was 4 and 5 because this was her main stress-out time. I never knew why. Now I do, I guess, the whole divorce with my biological father was affecting her.
- My step-dad and mom would kick down doors, break walls, hit us, and just call us names. It really affected me and my step-brother's self-esteem and mental health. So my step-brother just gave up and started his sex life, and then started drinking and smoking weed. It really hurt me.
Now that I don't nessesarily have to deal with that anymore (I mean, my step-dad is still here), I still am affected by it.)
I don't have many friends. And I like having people to talk to. I'm not doing this for attention.
**
I'm sorry if I seem like I complain too much. I'm just emotional I guess. But it's alright. I just needed to let this all out because of something that recently happened.
I'm sorry if I seem like I complain too much. I'm just emotional I guess. But it's alright. I just needed to let this all out because of something that recently happened.
