There are pains that never heal, especially those caused by your loved ones.
She is 17 years old, attends a top high school in Hanoi, has a legitimate need for entertainment or beauty like everyone else. It’s not that I like going to the bar and dancing or this, just going to coffee to confide in friends or putting on some lipstick to look pretty. Is there anyone 17 years old and not like that? However, in my mother’s eyes, I was always an unwise and demanding child.
At school, I am active, energetic, participate in many activities, have many friends and be liked. I don’t know why when I go home and see my mother, I feel stuffy and uncomfortable. Since I was a child, I have always had to listen to my mother scold, curse, and beat me to the point of obsession. My father passed away early, my mother raised me alone, so I understand how hard it is for her. I consider myself obedient, helping my mother with many things; But the hard work of a mother does not mean that she can abuse her children when she gets excited?
I still remember when I was in first grade, there was a friend who looked at a picture in a textbook and asked and started a conversation with me. I just turned to say: “I don’t know, learn” (at that time, I was just going to school, I was afraid of the teacher’s punishment, every move I had to watch her attitude). But that day, the teacher thought I was talking, and got up from the class. Being a shy kid, I just stood still. She also asked the security guard to threaten to pull him out, forcing him to stand in front of the class to apologize to her, to apologize to the whole class. Childish, I don’t know what to explain, that time the shame did not let it all go. She also called my mother. That night, my mother beat me with a coat hanger without asking anything. My left ear is so red that even now thinking about that pinch it still hurts, I want to cry. My mother even beat me to the thigh, 11 years on, I still can’t forget it.
In grade 4-5 or something, I didn’t like playing with a friend, I simply didn’t like it. You go back to tell your mother, tell her this or that, think that she talks badly so that the whole class hates you. Your mother called my mother, perhaps too embarrassed, so she beat me up. Mom doesn’t care if you’re wrong or not, just hit it and hit it. When I was in middle school, I was also naughty when I was a teenager, but I wasn’t spoiled. That time, when I went to the bathroom to do personal work, the daycare teacher saw me coming in late and threatened to send me home the next day, not allowing me to sleep at school anymore, making me think it was real. Afraid that my mother would know it would be a big deal, I had to “stay” temporarily at a friend’s house near the school. Unexpectedly, the half-boarding girl called the homeroom teacher and the homeroom teacher reported it to my mother. My mother came to my friend’s house to look for it, then cursed at me.
Then, once when I got home from school, my mother hit me with the handle of a plastic broom in the middle of my head. I was stunned, didn’t understand what was going on, my eyes were open, but I only saw a dark black color, my mother’s curse words were echoing in my ears. It turned out that it was only because I rolled up my pants to make it less long that my mother beat me like that. Once again when I went back to my hometown to have dinner, I didn’t wear the right clothes (it wasn’t rude or anything, just a t-shirt and shorts below the knee), my mother rushed to kick me in the leg and stomach, cursing me. curse me in front of so many people. I cry, not because of pain but because of shame.
There are many more stories that cannot be told, every night I am haunted by the beatings, the berating, the words that my mother scolds. I just hope I sleep and don’t have to wake up tomorrow. There were many nights when I had to bite my teeth into the blanket to keep from crying. When I cried, I had to breathe through my mouth because I was afraid that my mother would know that I would be beaten again. I was so obsessed that I banged my head against the wall so that I wouldn’t think about the times I got beaten up. Calling me unfilial and insolent is fine, but I can’t love someone who tramples and beats me all day.
I’m very stressed, almost (I’m not sure) depressed. Many people advised me to try talking to my mother, but with her personality, I’m sure she will punch, kick, and slap her like she always does. I intend to move out on my own, but depending on my mother, it’s impossible. What should I do now?
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