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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Jaylaserina on 2024-09-21 15:56:51+00:00.

As a young child I trusted my mom. Fully. I believed everything she said. After all, she’s my mom. She wants what’s best for me. She loves me more than anyone in the world. I never thought this innocent and natural perception would be exploited to the degree it was.

On my 3rd birthday my father stood waiting for me outside a McDonald’s. He had planned my birthday. A party I never attended. He waited and waited, called and called but she never showed up. Meanwhile, she was getting on a greyhound with me. The passengers learned it was my birthday, I imagined that she probably told them she was escaping an evil man. One passenger bought me a small birthday cake at one of the stops (my mom said). I wonder where that person is. If only they knew I was being kidnapped, and it wasn’t a happy day to celebrate but a day that would change my entire coarse of my life.

Once we arrived on the other side of the country she entered into DV programs and changed both my name and SSN. Then she began to fill my developing and innocent mind with her grandiose lies. At 3.5 years she told me she saved me from my father. That he was an evil man who was physically and emotionally abusive. She told me he molested me. And if I ever met him that he would kill her and take me to Africa where my family would rape me.

By this time my infantile amnesia had kicked it and I forgot everything up before this point. I forgot my dad. I forgot what he looked like. I forgot our bond. I forgot that I was a daddies girl. I forgot that I couldn’t sleep without him. Yet, even though I had forgotten him there was an intuition that led me to begin to becoming VERY misbehaved purposely toward my mother. I felt rage towards her but I didn’t know why. That’s when the physical punishments began. Daily spankings. Biting. Fingers being bent back. Trauma symptoms kicked in. I began to wet the bed (something I didn’t do anymore even at this young age), night terrors about witches and running away became regular by 5 years old. Then the hallucination I saw of a demon telling me to kill myself. I gathered knives under my bed not fully knowing why but knowing I should listen to this presence in my room. How does a baby already want to die? It was because I was dying. Then, I was dead.

My old self with my old name was gone. And instead in its place was a traumatized and angry shell of a child. Not knowing the old me would remain a member of the cast in my mind forever. Screaming to be let out. To be free. To be allowed to be me. I hated the person she forced me to be. I hated myself.

My mom met her new husband and told me to call him dad. I did for a few days and something felt wrong. I stopped and for the rest of my life she would refer to him as “your dad.” She pressured me to take his last name. She told him I was so misbehaved because she didn’t punish me cause she felt bad I didn’t have my dad. When the reality was I was punished so often I grew to see her as an enemy worth fighting. Once he arrived in my life the physical punishments became less frequent and he became the one to punish me. Much more level headed, he would normally ground me. I would often take my frustration out on him saying “Your not my dad!”

Time passed and I did petty things. Like stealing makeup which earned me a year long grounding. Eventually everything was removed from me. My phone, TV and computer and any devices and I was told I can have them back when I buy my own. Realizing I had no positive reinforcement to behave anymore by my teens I had basically “defeated” my mom’s punishments. Going out and not coming home for days. Drinking. Having sex. My mom wasn’t interested in my life. She only shamed me for my deplorable actions. Regularly calling the cops on me for petty things like drinking and smoking. Time after time I would feel the suicidal rage come back, I would think to myself “I just want my dad” not knowing who I was even wanting. Not knowing that these were forms of covert abuse masked as discipline.

I became the “problem child” she would gossip about to anyone who would listen, telling them how mentally ill I am and how hard it is as my mother. In trouble again and again, “How could you after everything I’ve done for you? I risked my life to keep you safe. You’re a psychopath just like your dad. Soon you’ll be 18 and you need to find somewhere else to live because I’m moving across the state.” 18 creeped up and I felt the fear of abandonment coming I knew I had to do something or I would be in the street. The day after my birthday I was kidnapped by a stranger on Craigslist claiming to have a room share. He raped me. Come to find out, he was a serial rapist and there were others. While the court process began I found a roommate a friend from high school. My mom step dad and little brother were gone, they rarely called.

I felt safe to start to look for my dad. I found him on Facebook and messaged him. This is where the suspicion began. He told me he has been looking for me. That he loved me and was hurt every time my birthday came around. He was so hurt that he told people I died because he couldn’t explain my mom took me every time someone asked where I was. He was shocked when I asked him about her allegations of rape. His wife and new daughters defended him saying your mom is absolutely lying.

He bought a ticket for me and my bestfriend so I wouldn’t feel alone. Meeting him was a beautiful memory filled with happy tears. But the suicidal rage, bad behavior became too much for him and he got me a ticket back home writing me off as being “like my mom”.

No one was with me in court when I faced my rapist. NO ONE . He got 56 years the only justice I ever had.

2 years passed before we both apologized to eachother. He told me that was his biggest mistake and he would forever be sorry. A apology? Very weird. My mom had never apologized to me for anything. I felt so seen and validated. Our relationship remained distant but he was supportive. Helping me every time I was in a financial crisis or abusive relationship. My mom was never willing to help me. I learned to not ask for help or tell her about my problems.

The opposition of their conflicting stories created cognitive dissonance that I couldn’t settle. It drove me crazy not knowing who the crazy person is. It has to be at least one of them, someone is lying. But I made excuses for my mom and wondered if maybe she was right and my dad had fooled me. I was scared to confront her I didn’t want to victim blame sold I was wrong. Because if I was wrong that meant she was abused and a victim herself. I had no memory so how can I tell?

But their behaviors told a story I couldn’t ignore. I never felt loved by my mom whereas my dad had empathy for me, he was interested in my life and helped me when I needed him. Qualities my mom ALL lacked. My boyfriend told me it’s obvious who is wrong. The more I studied her behavior I seen consistent manipulation patterns: victim mentality, guilt tripping, blame shifting and then love bombing. All classic narcissistic traits.

It has been 9 years since I met my dad. Only a few days have passed since I realized my mom kidnapped me. She was the crazy one all along. She abused me psychologically, emotionally, physically and neglected me. That realization is so overwhelming that I feel nothing but emptiness. I can hardly cry.

Why is this my life? A life she curated FOR ME.

A few days ago I went no contact. I blocked her on everything. She barely speaks to me yet her response was to call everyone she knows I know and ask “why did she block me I can’t figure it out” as if my acquaintances are her resource for information.

Now I’m looking into finding a lawyer. I’ve been educated that there is no statute of limitations for federally kidnapping children across state lines. Since it is between multiple states it would be an investigation by the FBI. I don’t want to punish her, I just want acknowledgment of her disregard for my life.

I struggle mentally, I can’t focus. I have issues sleeping. I overthink and overcompensate. I have had an evil voice in my mind that tells me to kill myself as long as I can remember. At first I wanted to punish her and then it became because life is so unbearable. The confusion drove me mad until I finally realized.

All I ever wanted is a family and a home. So I have no practical dreams or career aspirations. I just want love. I have to rebuild the person I was born to be. I hope to become someone who inspires others like me.

She changed my name, took away my family, my culture, my identity. She killed me. I will never be who I was meant to be. But I know I am not a mentally ill troubled person but a person who was psychologically abused, who has empathy for others, who deserved a chance a peace. A chance she took from me. She took my true destiny and identity away from me. Something I will never get back. One filled with family, love and compassion. One where I would be validated and valued. One without abuse.

She took all of that, she erased an essential part of me. But she can’t take my soul. I know the truth now and I know who I am.

I hope my story can help someone who is going through or who has been through the same. I searched and search for other kids like me, I felt like the only one. We have to start telling our story. We have to fight for change in the system so that we can be protected. My name …

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