Staying safe at home
I have been spending a lot of time at home without leaving the house, just like everybody else nowadays. Although I normally like to stay at home, I do miss the occasional long walks in nature and shopping in the city center. I am also lucky to have a family member, who goes out to stock up on groceries once or twice a week. I am not sure if I could handle this situation, if I was living on my own. I get out of breath easily and my immune system isn't that good, so I rather not take any unnecessary risks. The last few times that I was outside, I also had to deal with strange behavior like random people coughing in my face on purpose. It made me seriously not want to go outside until people start to act normal again.
But have people ever acted normal around me to begin with? Just because some pervert psycho told my mom that I was a baby, who was possessed by an evil spirit, I had to fend off an adult male, while I was still a tiny creature, learn how to speak as fast as I could (super good at picking up new languages, because of that), and fight against his dirty lies. When I finally learned how to speak well enough by mimicking all the sounds and mouth shapes that I could find in my surroundings to tell my parents what the so called doctor was doing to me in the guise of treatment, he told them that I was possessed by an grown-up spirit, which is why I spoke so well for such a small child. After a few "treatments", he pushed me down to assault me, but I used all the strength that I had in me by calling all the built up anger that I felt, to bite him in his neck, which created a large gaping wound. My first taste of blood, which made me unable to eat meat for many years. I was making strange, agressive, growling sounds, so he told my parents that I was suddenly possessed by an evil, crazy dog spirit. He insisted that I needed more treatments and more frequent as well, as I was becoming aggressive and dangerous, and that they should stay far away from me and lock me up, so that I couldn't harm them. Just a few words from him, instantly made me an orphan with nobody to rely on and with no voice to be heard. My mom also kept blaming me that I was costing them a lot of money, because of the treatments. Even though I was all alone and a little kid, I tried everything I could to save myself. Because I bit him, it made him so angry that he brought weapons like canes and whips with him the next time. You can probably imagine how much it must have hurt if it left red, permanent marks on my limbs. I tried being obedient and quiet. I tried surpressing the weird, agressive behavior that developed because of the abuse. I pushed cushions inside my clothes to cushion the blows. I tried pretending that I was healed by him, so he didn't need to come anymore, but he used it against me by taking all credits and convincing my parents that he is the only one in this world, who could heal me, and that his unorthodox methods were working. When I acted extra agressive and creepy to show my family members that I am not healed by him, he insisted that the evil spirit was at the end of his strength and was using everything he can to resist the treatments. He even told my mom to beat me up with a bamboo stick, whenever she felt that I looked weird and was possessed again. She couldn't tell, so it happened completely at random. This made me so crazy that I just picked up the bamboo stick myself every day and told her to beat me, as at least, I could control when it happened. I witnessed with my own eyes how my family members were first reluctant in hurting me, but slowly, they became more used to it. I felt my hope was slipping away. I tried being extra nice to them, to earn some of the love back, but the doctor told them that I was like a vixen trying to seduce them and I was foul mouthing him, just because his treatments were working and the evil spirit was close to dying. The first few years of my life were spend in extreme survival mode. I even stopped talking altogether, because no matter what I said, I was never listened to or believed. I don't really remember what made it stop. Maybe, it was because I threatened to hurt myself or my siblings with a knife, whenever the doorbell rang and the doctor was standing in front of the door. Or maybe, because the money ran out and my condition didn't improve and worsened instead. All I know is that my family still thought I was crazy until I turned old enough to convince them otherwise and that took far longer than you can ever imagine. Sometimes, I feel that they still think I am crazy, as the truth hurts them too much. Once in a while, I still see them being heartless and letting me get into danger without doing anything against it. I sometimes wonder if they can no longer fully love me without hating themselves to death or that I can never really trust or love them back either. The recent powerlessness towards the irrational hostility against Asian looking people reminded me of all that (What can you possibly do to fight against it?). Also, having nowhere to run, no work to keep myself constantly busy, and not enough food at home to binge eat, didn't help. I already knew the world was full of ignorant, or to put more nicely, misinformed people, who failed to protect me or harmed me in horrible ways, when nobody was looking. But now, it is happening not only to me, but to others as well.
Living in a confined space and spending a lot of time together, also caused some friction with my mom. It made me think of my childhood, during which she would take every opportunity she could find to put me down, yell at me, and hurt me. I remember lying to her that my grades were the lowest in class, while I was actually the best in class, just so that she could be in a good mood and feel better by telling me that I am stupid and that she was smarter. I also told my siblings to be quiet and not have any weird movements in the house, so that she has nothing to pick on. It was one of the first times, we worked together. We celebrated the days that were normal and tried to support each other, when things went bad. Lately, I found out that all the years of therapy that I have personally tried to give her through reading a lot of books in the library, didn't fully cure her, as she still has her bursts of anger, in which she yells loudly for a long time, and she literally tried to strangle me with a metal wire of a lamp during the quarantaine, but I did notice that she is at least willing to try to be a better mom now. When we used to spill something, while eating at the dinner table, she would yell at us for at least half an hour. But when I was mentally preparing myself for a scolding a few days ago, she no longer did anything and she was able to hold her temper. As a child, I figured out that one of the main reasons, she was acting this way, is because she never knew how to be a good mom. She didn't get the right example from my grandma and she didn't get any advice, as she was all alone, in social isolation, in a foreign country. So, I took on the role of the mom and showed her how to do it. Going back to the example with the spilled sauce on the dinner table, I told her to stop and be quiet, before she opened her mouth and got angry with us. I then went on to silently wipe the stain off with a wet cloth and told her to watch and learn from this. I solved the problematic situation silently, comforted the child, who made the mistake and made sure he was okay (no stain on his clothes?, not hurt in any way ?, etc.), and I moved on like nothing has happened, without making a big fuss about it. I then told her to copy my behavior and describe every action in spoken words too. It didn't happen overnight, but after a lot of patience and practice, I was able to rewire her brain and teach her new reactions to unexpected and stressful situations. I also carried her traumatic stories, her problems, and her issues, even though, I was far too young. I told her to keep talking about them to me until it no longer hurt and I tried to solve every problem that we had at the time one by one. Given the state I was in, I got enormous headaches from it, but I felt it was worth it.
I still cannot believe how I made it through. I finally got to a point in my life, where I no longer have to fight for my life every second of the day, be on the look-out for unexpected dangers, and talk my way out of the evil manipulations by psychos. I still cannot win against the prejudices there are about me being Chinese, me having nystagmus, me being a woman, me being traumatized, me being a foreigner in a Western country, or me being socially awkward, as I barely have any experience. Or fight against the stupid lies about me and the fabricated evidences made by my bullies. But I finally got the life that I wished for as a child (I prayed so hard and I waited for so long). It is still weird, as I cannot feel happy even if I got everything that I want. Too much have happened and I worked too hard to end everything, as I thought that if nobody helps me and saves me, it is better to work hard to my demise instead, since nobody cares anyway. I had given up way too many times, but people kept pulling me back. At the right time, a good person always came to rescue me with a small act of kindness, some kind words, or kept the people harming me away from me. I might never get to see the justice that I strived for or find the person that is so important to me, but I hope I can be such a good person to others too.
I know that by posting this, bad people may want to take advantage of my weakness again like always. The last few times, I was so vulnerable, I kept getting emails and phone calls trying to scam me into something. I also made myself more visible for people with bad intentions. I am guessing I am on some "dumb people, who you can take advantage of without feeling guilty" list or something. But the current situation worried me. There are a lot of people out there, who also have no place to feel safe and to hide and no voice that can be heard, who are silently suffering from domestic abuse, and who have nobody looking out for them. I hope my story can help them.
Stay safe and help each other in whatever way you can.
But have people ever acted normal around me to begin with? Just because some pervert psycho told my mom that I was a baby, who was possessed by an evil spirit, I had to fend off an adult male, while I was still a tiny creature, learn how to speak as fast as I could (super good at picking up new languages, because of that), and fight against his dirty lies. When I finally learned how to speak well enough by mimicking all the sounds and mouth shapes that I could find in my surroundings to tell my parents what the so called doctor was doing to me in the guise of treatment, he told them that I was possessed by an grown-up spirit, which is why I spoke so well for such a small child. After a few "treatments", he pushed me down to assault me, but I used all the strength that I had in me by calling all the built up anger that I felt, to bite him in his neck, which created a large gaping wound. My first taste of blood, which made me unable to eat meat for many years. I was making strange, agressive, growling sounds, so he told my parents that I was suddenly possessed by an evil, crazy dog spirit. He insisted that I needed more treatments and more frequent as well, as I was becoming aggressive and dangerous, and that they should stay far away from me and lock me up, so that I couldn't harm them. Just a few words from him, instantly made me an orphan with nobody to rely on and with no voice to be heard. My mom also kept blaming me that I was costing them a lot of money, because of the treatments. Even though I was all alone and a little kid, I tried everything I could to save myself. Because I bit him, it made him so angry that he brought weapons like canes and whips with him the next time. You can probably imagine how much it must have hurt if it left red, permanent marks on my limbs. I tried being obedient and quiet. I tried surpressing the weird, agressive behavior that developed because of the abuse. I pushed cushions inside my clothes to cushion the blows. I tried pretending that I was healed by him, so he didn't need to come anymore, but he used it against me by taking all credits and convincing my parents that he is the only one in this world, who could heal me, and that his unorthodox methods were working. When I acted extra agressive and creepy to show my family members that I am not healed by him, he insisted that the evil spirit was at the end of his strength and was using everything he can to resist the treatments. He even told my mom to beat me up with a bamboo stick, whenever she felt that I looked weird and was possessed again. She couldn't tell, so it happened completely at random. This made me so crazy that I just picked up the bamboo stick myself every day and told her to beat me, as at least, I could control when it happened. I witnessed with my own eyes how my family members were first reluctant in hurting me, but slowly, they became more used to it. I felt my hope was slipping away. I tried being extra nice to them, to earn some of the love back, but the doctor told them that I was like a vixen trying to seduce them and I was foul mouthing him, just because his treatments were working and the evil spirit was close to dying. The first few years of my life were spend in extreme survival mode. I even stopped talking altogether, because no matter what I said, I was never listened to or believed. I don't really remember what made it stop. Maybe, it was because I threatened to hurt myself or my siblings with a knife, whenever the doorbell rang and the doctor was standing in front of the door. Or maybe, because the money ran out and my condition didn't improve and worsened instead. All I know is that my family still thought I was crazy until I turned old enough to convince them otherwise and that took far longer than you can ever imagine. Sometimes, I feel that they still think I am crazy, as the truth hurts them too much. Once in a while, I still see them being heartless and letting me get into danger without doing anything against it. I sometimes wonder if they can no longer fully love me without hating themselves to death or that I can never really trust or love them back either. The recent powerlessness towards the irrational hostility against Asian looking people reminded me of all that (What can you possibly do to fight against it?). Also, having nowhere to run, no work to keep myself constantly busy, and not enough food at home to binge eat, didn't help. I already knew the world was full of ignorant, or to put more nicely, misinformed people, who failed to protect me or harmed me in horrible ways, when nobody was looking. But now, it is happening not only to me, but to others as well.
Living in a confined space and spending a lot of time together, also caused some friction with my mom. It made me think of my childhood, during which she would take every opportunity she could find to put me down, yell at me, and hurt me. I remember lying to her that my grades were the lowest in class, while I was actually the best in class, just so that she could be in a good mood and feel better by telling me that I am stupid and that she was smarter. I also told my siblings to be quiet and not have any weird movements in the house, so that she has nothing to pick on. It was one of the first times, we worked together. We celebrated the days that were normal and tried to support each other, when things went bad. Lately, I found out that all the years of therapy that I have personally tried to give her through reading a lot of books in the library, didn't fully cure her, as she still has her bursts of anger, in which she yells loudly for a long time, and she literally tried to strangle me with a metal wire of a lamp during the quarantaine, but I did notice that she is at least willing to try to be a better mom now. When we used to spill something, while eating at the dinner table, she would yell at us for at least half an hour. But when I was mentally preparing myself for a scolding a few days ago, she no longer did anything and she was able to hold her temper. As a child, I figured out that one of the main reasons, she was acting this way, is because she never knew how to be a good mom. She didn't get the right example from my grandma and she didn't get any advice, as she was all alone, in social isolation, in a foreign country. So, I took on the role of the mom and showed her how to do it. Going back to the example with the spilled sauce on the dinner table, I told her to stop and be quiet, before she opened her mouth and got angry with us. I then went on to silently wipe the stain off with a wet cloth and told her to watch and learn from this. I solved the problematic situation silently, comforted the child, who made the mistake and made sure he was okay (no stain on his clothes?, not hurt in any way ?, etc.), and I moved on like nothing has happened, without making a big fuss about it. I then told her to copy my behavior and describe every action in spoken words too. It didn't happen overnight, but after a lot of patience and practice, I was able to rewire her brain and teach her new reactions to unexpected and stressful situations. I also carried her traumatic stories, her problems, and her issues, even though, I was far too young. I told her to keep talking about them to me until it no longer hurt and I tried to solve every problem that we had at the time one by one. Given the state I was in, I got enormous headaches from it, but I felt it was worth it.
I still cannot believe how I made it through. I finally got to a point in my life, where I no longer have to fight for my life every second of the day, be on the look-out for unexpected dangers, and talk my way out of the evil manipulations by psychos. I still cannot win against the prejudices there are about me being Chinese, me having nystagmus, me being a woman, me being traumatized, me being a foreigner in a Western country, or me being socially awkward, as I barely have any experience. Or fight against the stupid lies about me and the fabricated evidences made by my bullies. But I finally got the life that I wished for as a child (I prayed so hard and I waited for so long). It is still weird, as I cannot feel happy even if I got everything that I want. Too much have happened and I worked too hard to end everything, as I thought that if nobody helps me and saves me, it is better to work hard to my demise instead, since nobody cares anyway. I had given up way too many times, but people kept pulling me back. At the right time, a good person always came to rescue me with a small act of kindness, some kind words, or kept the people harming me away from me. I might never get to see the justice that I strived for or find the person that is so important to me, but I hope I can be such a good person to others too.
I know that by posting this, bad people may want to take advantage of my weakness again like always. The last few times, I was so vulnerable, I kept getting emails and phone calls trying to scam me into something. I also made myself more visible for people with bad intentions. I am guessing I am on some "dumb people, who you can take advantage of without feeling guilty" list or something. But the current situation worried me. There are a lot of people out there, who also have no place to feel safe and to hide and no voice that can be heard, who are silently suffering from domestic abuse, and who have nobody looking out for them. I hope my story can help them.
Stay safe and help each other in whatever way you can.
