I Am Not A Monster, And I Refuse To Become The Monster They Made Me
I didn't know much about neurodivergence - that it was a part of who I am, being autistic.
Until too much had happened, until I realized it wasn't me after living an entire life of lies. It was in the sense that I wasn't the monster everyone had made me believe.
Photo by Lidia Nikole on Unsplash
There were so many cues pointing to some kind of neurodiversity, but everyone chose to ignore them and never offered help. No diagnosis, no counseling, nothing.
Guess it was easier for them to label me the difficult child, to allow me to be abused by some religious charlatan at the temple in the name of exorcism and all.
Even easier for my parents to beat the shit out of me and lock me in that dark basement to punish me for, well, being me. Physical violence was much easier for them than having to actually queue and pay for diagnosis or treatment; no consultation required, and easily accessible.
I was always the problematic one, as if everyone else was fine and good except me. I was always the bad one or the idiot, as they called me growing up.
Being the bad idiot made me ashamed of myself and afraid to confide in others, believing it was all my fault.
I was all alone in my world, being so lonely in a crowd - surrounded by people, yet with no one I could talk to or lean on, as if I were walking in a necropolis. Everyone seemed to have an unbeating heart.
No one would see me, even when I was wailing or bleeding out, or hear me when I cried for help. This wasn't figurative; it happened. People would just look the other way or simply walk away.
I ain't no monster but and I live among them.
I hope the monster in me will remain dormant forever, because I don't want to become what they made me.
©Britt H.
Thank you for reading this.
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I have been there and, like you, no one moved a single finger and today many believe that if I write about it, I made it up.
Personally, it makes me gag if they say all parents love their children and a good beating is needed to train them (we train a dog or a horse but not children).
The idiot, the naive person, the brainless one, the monster, I heard it all and more. There's one thing I can tell you that is that you will never change in one simply because you are way too afraid that will happen,
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I'm truly sorry you had to endure such nasty words and experiences. I believe you, because I know such things happen. If we were friends back then, I think I would have run away with you.
People's indifference can be so cruel, in this case, ruining lives. It's sad that some individuals, whether parents or others, simply don't know how to be decent human beings, let alone good parents. We wouldn't treat anyone else in such a cruel manner.
Yes, it was like training animals. My father beat me as if he were fighting Mike Tyson—an adult man against a child of a few years old, punching, kicking, throwing...
I remember telling my teacher everything, and she, in turn, called my parents and told them everything. What should have been done was to involve a third party, a social worker, or someone similar. My teachers always called me stupid—a label I now realize better suited them for handling the situation so poorly.
Thank goodness I survived all that abuse, unlike the tragic cases we often see in the news.
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Sounds as if we not only had the same parents but also the same teachers. Not one of them ever undertook something. Countless times I've been kicked out on the streets, of course always during winter without shoes and coat. On those rare occassions someone "let me in" they always said it was imagination and it all would be fine (no way!). Social workers? I was threatened before that person arrived and she was way too stupid to recognised a scared child. Not once she asked a question without my parents being present. They are a big joke. You know, I met that woman years later and I told her exactly what I thought of her. People like that aren't a help they only push you deeper in the shit.
I heard many teachers say how stupid I am, same for my children. The biggest joke is our IQ is way higher than theirs.
You survived, I did but there never been any justice.
Pity indeed we don't live in the same country otherwise you could have escaped with me. I am sorry to hear you had to go through to this. It's something you have to give a place and live with.
I send you a big hug!
La realidad que le ha tocado soportar a muchos... No todo puede ser solucionado a las malas, y en niños, menos aún. La paciencia, el cariño y la compresión, siempre ayudan en mucho, aunque no sepamos ni entendamos el porque de una actitud o un comportamiento. Muchos de los traumas psicológicos se derivan de la infancia. Fue una lectura bastante emotiva.
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It angers me to read news about the cruelty children endure, perhaps because I once a victim too. Sometimes, these stories affect me for days.
When their innocence is shattered, the damage extends far beyond that moment; it shapes their entire adulthood. My therapist once told me that no matter how outwardly successful these individuals become, their achievements are often just on the surface. Inside, the trauma remained.
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Thank you!