There’s no point in my trying. There’s no point in giving life another chance. Here’s my situation.

My mom, although still I love her, started abusing me at the age of five. I was her punching bag, taking every name said from her mouth with brutal force. I was the bitch, asshole, mother fucker, idiot, stupid, retard, dumbass, and other words that I can’t seem to remember. This happened nearly every day. If I dropped something, “What the fuck is wrong with you bitch!”. If I came home with a failed test “You see, all you want to do is play video games and get fat. Your fucking ass needs to get beat by those kids. Watch me put you in special Ed, and see how those kids will beat you.”. It seems ironic looking back on her mentioning of special Ed, since she herself was a teacher. Any who, my mother didn’t hold back on verbally abusing me in public. If I made one tiny mistake, she would yell and scream while we were walking. My head fell down, as tears rolled down my cheeks and my struggle for breath kept getting worse. She would tell me to stop crying, and curse at me more. People stared, and I couldn’t do anything. Standing up to her would lead her rage to skyrocket, and beat me into a pulp. What confused me, though, was that she would tell my she loves me. She told me that since she cleans the house, irons my clothes,and give me the materials for school, saying that I should feel fortunate compared to other children. She told me that if I told anyone about how she treated me, she would beat me badly. And so I kept my mouth shut, and suffered in silence. My father tried to help me, but he is emotionally weak, receiving daily verbal abuse from my mom. I love my father, and we are still close to this day. He tries, and although he could do better, I know he’s a good father and man. My mom shut me off from independence, offering to do everything for me. To this day, I feel afraid going shopping and to the grocery store, since my I never had much experience going to these places. She also fed me a lot of junk food. Whenever a doctor would tell her to feed me better food, she’d say yes and would complain to me about how I don’t want to change. I was only little. She’d call me a fat ass pig, and would blame me for my weight gain. She also did the same with video games. She’d tell me to study, and would give me long hours for playing video games. If I failed a test, I would here “All you want to do is play games and fail your tests, you dumbass bitch.”. I struggled with school. I’m more studious now and receive high 90’s, but this wasn’t the case when I was younger. My parents also argued constantly. I was in the middle of everything. My mom threatened divorce, and I was scared because I didn’t want my dad to leave. I wanted him to stay because he could protect me. My dad cheated, which led to physical fights that I was always present for. They are still together, but its more of a friendship, a vey dysfunctional one. As I got older, she started to use a belt buckle. I’m aware that this is considered discipline in some countries, but I see it abuse. Physical abuse. She beat me whenever I failed an exam. I never committed a crime, and was and still is a good child. But she beat me, hard. I screamed. I wanted the burning pain in my back to stop, but she kept on going, telling me to say why I failed. If I didn’t say anything, the beating got worse. Eventually, she stopped using the belt. But the damage was done. I started to become depressed and suicidal. I wanted to jump out my window and go to heaven. Bullying at school became for frequent. I was always bullied, but my suicidal thoughts and depression made it worse.One incident that spoke me the most occurred this summer, 4 days after my high school graduation. I forgot what I did, but it was small. My mom got upset, and stated it beat me with her hands. I tried it get the phone to call 911, but she scratched it out my hand and took all the other phones so I couldn’t call for help. She blocked the door so couldn’t leave. She then finished me off by beating me with a toy bat. Afterwards, she left to take my little brother to school. I wanted to commit suicide right there. Afterwards, she told my neighbor about the incident and laughed. “Girl, she tried to call the cops and I said ‘what the hell is she trying to do?’ So I beat her ass. She deserved it. My ass ain’t going to jail. Hahahahaha!”. I was right there, and I felt like shit. I’m 17 now and is still living with her. I can’t run to my other family members, since they are just as dysfunctional. My grand father, although nice to me and my little brother, was always abusive to my grandmother. They had a recent fight where he punched her eye. My aunt and cousins abused one another growing up. My cousin often spit on me and hurt my feelings. He twisted my aunts arm, and she would beat him. To this day, they still argue. My uncle also gets into argument from time to time. They all laugh about their problems and joke, saying how it’s the way things are. They hide behind denial, which only makes the problem bigger. They are nice to my brother and I, but can be abusive to each other. My little brother is experiencing my moms same treatment. We are, and have always been close. We never hurt each other, and despite our arguing some times, we get along well. He wishes that I want commuting to college. He tells me to stay home to protect him from my mom.More things happened, but it would be far to much to write. My mom believes that what she did wasn’t abuse, and blames me and stress. My mom went through a lot, but don’t we all have problems? My mom even laughs about her behavior and the abuse, saying how I just have to deal with gear anger. I know my mom, enough to know that she will never change her ways. She’ll smile and think that I’m sensitive for dwelling on the past. But I know what I went through, and it hurts. My mom doesn’t have a job now, and is dealing with an ongoing court case. I’ll sympathize for her, but that’s as far as I’ll go. I’d also like to add that I’m a black girl, and my mom is from the Caribbean.

The therapist that my college offers is horrible. One therapist laughed when I told her about my situation. I know that I receive websites for therapists, but I can’t even leave my house without my mom questioning me. I come home to my mom threatening to kill my dad, and my little brother getting bullied from my mom, telling him that he’ll die because he’ll get diabetes and high blood pressure. She fed him this way, and he can’t stand up for myself. I can’t leave my or my parents will get suspicious. It’s like I’ll have to suffer for years, and it’s hard. Suicide often seems right. I think about it everyday, and I might just do it. Everyone will be happy to not hear my cries. My mom won’t have me to yell at me.I’ll do the world justice. Fuck my dreams. What’s the point in achieving them if I can’t get help? I can’t leave my house with out telling my parents where I’m going. If I tell her it’s therapy, she’ll beat me black and blue. If I’m gone, no one will have to hear my cries for help. Everyone will breath knowing that one depressed person is not putting their depression in others. Because, just like my mom said “the world is better off of I go”. There will be another better artist and writer. If you want to see a shitty unfinished stories of mine, here:

“Mom? Are you there?”
“Yes my sweets, Im here. You just have to open your eyes.”
“But…what if Haley comes and pours ice cold water on me?”
“And what if you don’t open your eyes at all? You’ll have to wait until tonight again to see me my love.”
“…”
“Open your eyes sweetie. Let’s have a wonderful moment together before your day officially starts.”
“Ok mommy”
And with that, Annabelle slowly opened her eyes. “Good Morning my love. Are you ready for another adventure?” said Abilene’s mother. “Yes mommy. Let’s have some fun!” said Abilene.
Abilene reached her hand towards her mother. Abilene mom grabbed Abilene’s hand and lifted her of light green grass that she was laying on. Abilene stared directly into her mother’s attractive face, smiling wide with security and happiness. Her moms face represented that of the perfect circle, not too fat, but not to skinny either. Her face was decorated with various elements of beauty: 2 bright acorn brown eyes, accompanied with white irises near the top left corner, one small and well centered nose, a petite but wide mouth that always displayed positivity, two small ears that were placed appropriately at each side of her head just below her temples, and her long and curly chocolate brown hair that reached her hips. It was as if her mom represented perfect external facial qualities that you’d expect out of a typical mother. “Mommy…your so beautiful!”
“Oh sweetie.” Abilene’s mom kneels down and places her hand softly, with grace, onto her daughters cheek. “You know that beauty just isn’t exterior. You also need to acknowledge what’s inside.”
“Of course! Your kind, nice, and really respectful!”
“Is that all? Can’t you name any other inner qualities?”
Abilene frowns. “Mom, must you always ask me questions? I want to spend sometime with you before morning.”
“I know honey, but I want you to know the importance of appreciating ones inner qualities other than their outer ones.”
“Ok. Now can we have some fun?
Abilene’s mom chuckles. “Alright sweetie.” She takes her hand from Abilene’s cheek and places it onto her head, rubbing it softly. “Let’s have fun”
Abilene face brightens with happiness and excitement. So many things were racing through her head at once. Were they going to ride on a fluffy pink cloud towards the horizon, amongst the white doves and the other pink clouds? Maybe they would take piece of a dandelion seed from the humongous dandelion flowers and fly into the sky?

My situation is not going to get better and I’m bound to commit suicide at some point. If I died people will stop worrying. If you have any other suggestions on how I can get people to stop worrying, because I’ve already pissed people off by venting, that will be appreciated.
Also, if Anita sees this, please don’t bother answering. I don’t want to burden anyone.