Mom was always telling me terrible things. I was the biggest whore, the biggest slut, stupid, would never get anywhere in life cause I had no common sense or brains, I was a clutz. I was a liar, a thief, a deceiver. I was ugly. I couldn't do anything right. I was a failure. I was called everything you could think of, but mainly I was the "devil's daughter". I was pure evil. I was going to burn in hell forever.
She would call everyone she knew - friends, relatives, neighbors, and let them all know what a horribly child I was. She would tell them everytime I got into trouble, whether I actually did something or not. Then, I would hear it from the neighbors, my families friends, and relatives how horrible I was and everything all over again.
From the time I was little, mom would tell me sometimes that she loved me but didn't like me. Then, my older sister would tell me that, too (that mom loves me but doesn't like me).
My older brother and older sister's friends also said horrible things to me about myself all the time. I was ugly, I was stupid, I was cut down in everyway they could think of.
Dad would also cut me down, a lot. I wasn't aloud to talk to dad, if I tried, I got yelled at. Not once did my dad ever have a conversation with me at all. Only beat me and said horrible things to me and yelled at me and raped me, except once = the day before I left to go in the Air Force - he took me out to eat. Said about 10 words to me and that was it.
Aunts, Uncles, and cousins said things to me all the time, too.
Mom compared me constantly to my older sister. My older sister was an angel, even though she did drugs and snuck out at night with boys and everything. I was the bad one. I couldn't do anything right, I couldn't do anything as good as my sister, no matter how hard I tried.
I would save my lunch money to buy mom and dad Christmas presents. I tried so hard to pick them out really good presents. But, they would open mine and set it down, no thanks or nothing. They would open my sister's present, and brag about it over and over and made sure they showed it off to everyone. One year I bought dad a nice expensive pen and pencil set. His work was sending him to school for something for 6 weeks. I was about 10. I was so excited to give it to him. He opened it, set it down on the end table, and then looked at me like I was crazy.
The part inside who took the verbal abuse (one of the parts inside), is named Lucy. To my family, we were as dumb and senseless as Lucille Ball in the TV show I Love Lucy. We were constantly called an airhead, a pile of sh*t, everything.
The verbal abuse was daily. It was "let's see how bad we can make Sherry feel" everyday growing up.
I will add more as I remember the memories.
