• 1 month ago
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I’m 15. My parents immigrated to the United States when I was about 7 years old for my dad’s job. My mom, you see, was in an extremely bad state. Marrying into an old-fashioned family, she was forced to give up her job, education, and career. She used to be at the top of her class but after marriage, she lost everything. Her mother-in-law mentally abused her every day. She wouldn’t let my mom breastfeed me. Or hold me. Or even touch me. She hated life. But she didn’t lose hope, and her strong will pushed her through. After we moved to the states, we left my grandma in an apartment by herself. Oh, another thing I forgot to mention. When I was little, I had this condition where every time I had a fever, I’d get seizures. These weren’t ordinary seizures… I’d turn blue, stop breathing, and had to be hospitalized immediately. As a result of that AND being an only child, I was extremely overprotected. My mom had to work as a teacher in my school just so she could be there in case I had a fit. Anyway, after we moved, my mom slowly started to let loose of the paranoia of me having a fit. But then… she started getting mad. Mad at my dad for never standing up to his mom. Mad at me for ruining her career and her life. Now, these bursts of anger used to happen once in a while. But as I grew older, the verbal abuse increased. In fact, after a lot of times, I lose all perspective. I think to myself, wouldn’t it have been a lot better if I wasn’t born? My mom would’ve been able to achieve things. My dad would be happy. My grandma wouldn’t have been to abuse my mother and take me away from her. And I keep thinking… it’s all because of me. I feel guilty to be alive. I feel guilty for ruining somebody’s life. I feel guilty for being born.

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