Okay, so I tell you a story,
A real story. Listen closely to what I would like to whisper.
There was a little girl whose parents decided life would be better without each other.
She was 4 that time and didn't really understood that daddy was no more there.
That girl's mom was very young, about 24 and had troubles with finding a good job and give her daughter food everyday. They often was hungry but her mom didn't let the child find out how many problems they actually had those times.
They 2 often changed their places, moved in and out from grandparents to lodgings. There wasn't enough money for important stuff but after the mother got a little bit help from her granny, they could buy an own flat.
The little girl was exactly 6 years old and happy until men started appearing next to her mom.
Some moved in, some just came at night, some didn't even want to meet her and some hurt her in some ways.
There were good moments too but mostly bad ones.
The mother wanted everything to be okay but it never worked somehow.
The mother wanted to give her daughter a father but she couldn't.
That girl grew up watching a drunk man hit her mom every week but never that much to make it visible.
Z. had different techiques like he pushed the mother to the wall with holding a pillow and his big hands tightened it enough to make breathing painful. But the girl still heard her mom begging 'Please stop'.
And the girl whispered that too in the dark room of her watching the shadows on the wall from the other room.
They broke up, it was tough but at least it was over.
After him, others came, all of them were the same somehow.
Their smiles, hands, shoes, boxers, toothbrushes, coats, hair, words and socks.
All the same, except one thing: the ways they hurt the girl were always different.
Once she got presents, hugs, kisses and compliments but then something happened and these things died. P. started hating her for some reasons. He once said to the mother 'Choose. Me or your daughter?'
The mother told this her daughter after the break up. She laughed, she tought it was just a silly question. The girl's heart almost broke into pieces.
J, always acted like a child and lied about money, he borrowed from mom, of course.
T. liked the girl more than the mother that's for sure. He called her little fairy, he gave her expensive gifts and always said some compliments. But when the girl turned 18, T. left her mother.
Real dad, sometimes appeared with rare phone calls. He never remembered her daughter's birthday or when's christmas.
She almost forgot his voice too.
Home wasn't a safe place anymore.
Yeah, and school was hell too.
This girl was always an outsider. She even drew all day in kindergarden and finished her meal last in the group.
In school, she felt like a nobody.
Elementary was good until some assholes started bullying others. She was a victim too.
She wasn't pretty or curvy or smart enough.
And that was that she got from P. too at home when she was 13.
Everything started to falling apart when she turned 13.
She had paranoia, social phobia and she slowly but surely started hating every inches of her poor body.
She stood in front of the mirror and whispered the words she got from others.
'Ugly, skeleton, idiot,disgusting,childish,freak,weirdo...'
And she started believing it.
No matter where she went, she was scared as hell.
'Do not look at me', she repeated everytime.
She fell into the rabbit hole of self-destruction.
She lived in the world of razors, pills, alcohol, unstoppable crying, aching heart and lies.
No one really noticed or did anything about them.
She was a good liar, too.
She felt there was no control in her hands so she refused meals from time to time.
She lost weight.
She lost hope.
Speaking with therapists was as useless as telling a fish breathing is good.
She still felt a hole in her chest but they thought some meds will cover it.
She got papers with words like 'some kind of personality disorder, eating disorder, cutting, depression'.
Where is she now?
She's writing this with the highest anxiety she ever had tbh.
But it's okay.
She's trying to recover from all of these nightmares she's been through.
So, when you ask about my weight, my scars or my depressing stories, please remember this journal!
I was judged enough in my past and I am here on Deviantart to be a better person and a better artist.
To express myself.
To tell the world, I'm still here and we are not really alone in this!
Thanks for reading....