TW: physical and emotional abuse, suicide attempt

i hope this isn’t the wrong place to share or that i’m breaking any rules, please lmk if so. i just really need to let this all off my chest somewhere and i have no one in real life to share with. i know my experiences are not unique to me, i would also love to hear if you can relate to this, or just want to chat about what i wrote or anything tbh~

i was born in a muslim majority country to emotionally and physically abusive parents whom were arranged. my mom did not even know what my dad looked like until the night they got married. she was also raised and indoctrinated heavily in a different muslim majority country in the 70s and 80s that was notorious for its anti-women legislation + second tier treatment of non nationals/foreign labor. a few years after our family immigrated to canada, leaving behind any semblance of familiarity, community, and family we had simply because my dad had a selfish desire to chase materialism and wealth, and the intention was disguised as “wanting a better life for his children”. we were not living lavishly before whatsoever but it was never a question of food on the table or clothes on our backs, and we were not escaping violence or religious persecution.

not too soon after reaching canada he decided to leave us and go to america because he was not satisfied with his job or income in canada, despite us having a roof and food once again. this ended up being the best time of my life; only having to deal with one abusive parent who admittedly had less of a leash on us, i loved being able to walk to school by myself, hang out in the common courtyard between the apartment buildings also full of immigrant families, or head to the community center or library to socialize and enrich myself. i had the freedom and resources to enrich my own life as young as elementary school, since i wasn’t getting it from home. and while my mom was abusive and neglectful i recognized the weight of her responsibilities + the context of her childhood and early adulthood.

eventually we started visiting and spending a month or two at a time with my dad. at this point i’m not even really sure who this guy is; he was barely a father when he was physically around and now i didn’t speak or see him for months at a time. this is where i had to cut out a lot i wrote but basically i became the number one target of my dads abuse. if there was a “turning point” in my childhood it was the day my dad slammed my 8 or 9 year old body into the concrete in front of his friends family because i stood up to their bully son who was 4 years older than me. must have been too embarrassing for him to handle or something? the sensation of mustering up the courage to defend yourself and speak on what you think is right, only to find yourself a split second later in pain on the ground, publicly humiliated, and being dragged to the car and immediately being blamed for “ruining the day”, was really so incredibly damaging and i didn’t even get to process that until 15 years later because of how far i repressed that memory.

that pretty much set the tone of my life moving forward. eventually my dad found himself working in texas and made us come permanently move with him by the time i was finishing elementary school. for a second time i was stripped away of all that was familiar to me, my friends, the culture i was programmed to be comfortable with, and this time i had actually worked to build it myself. and the shock of texas culture… i absolutely hated it (and still do). obviously canada is far from perfect, but even as a child i could register the immense dissonance living in texas made me feel. physical abuse continued to pop up any time there was any sort of disagreement or tension, as well as emotional neglect and a complete lack of an attempt at parenting, besides keeping us alive and setting the looming expectation of us eventually assimilating into the academic and corporate life of america while still being culturally and religiously of my dads home village.

i found that i couldn’t relate to my peers at all in texas, even minorities, the majority of whom were born and raised there and deeply indoctrinated/socialized with weird programming. i was also put into a “gifted and talented” program, which really ended up being severely detrimental to my already struggling socialization, and provided no benefit educationally; just a higher load of busy work than the other kids. i started to become withdrawn, fearful, self loathing, internalized self phobias relating to my skin color, features, gender, sexuality, all the good stuff. by the time high school rolled around i was deeply depressed, anxious, and attempted suicide, which then led to a horrifying two week stint in a really fucking sketchy UHS psychiatric hospital. that’s a whole write up of its own

eventually i got out, parents still didn’t even understand what “depression” was despite everything and made more comments about the cost of the hospitalization than how i was feeling. I was put on an outpatient program and medication that didn’t help at all other than make me feel like a zombie. i ditched the meds and decided i was tired of this bullshit and i would finally “take control of my own life”, the western narrative id read constantly on social medias like reddit or twitter or seen depicted in popular TV or movies, and this actually worked for a while. i “glew up”, started cooking my own meals and eating actual food, worked under the table to start my own income, stopped escaping into the internet and video games and improved my socialization skills and actually made “friends”.

then by the time high school was finishing up, i decided i wanted to pursue my passion of making music and forgo university. lot of disapproval and accusations that someone had cast a spell on me, and i really didn’t know much about making music at the time other than the little they would share about music theory in public school music classes, but that didn’t stop me and that decision set me off on a long journey of completely redefining myself to the external world, but really finding out who i actually am as a person internally, why that’s worth loving and sharing, and where my behaviors and traumas rooted from (with some psychedelic help). i completely shocked myself with how far i was able to go with it–i had a fairly “successful” song, got really involved with my cities local music scene, and was just making art that actually resonated with people and even impressed myself, a feeling I’d never felt before with anything. eventually i mustered up the courage to move to new york city with a small amount of savings, subletting random tiny rooms and sleeping on the floor, and eventually was able to leverage my combined my music experience and prior work experience in youth development, to land what was in theory was my “dream job” as a fulltime afterschool music program director.

but yet now, in my mid 20s, i find myself back in my parents house, back in the same room, in texas which i’ve come to despise even more. new york city definitely had its problems as well, but it was much better for my mental and safety than here. i was making JUST enough to keep just myself afloat, with very little room for emergencies. i was always transient and struggled to find somewhere to stay long term even if i could afford it, because of credit and income requirements i could never meet in a million years. and very unfortunately, during a really emotionally vulnerable moment i very stupidly fell for a random out of the blue scam where i thought i was helping someone, and instead got almost $3k of the total $5k i had savings from 1.5 years of working stolen from me in an instant.

and the most important thing… i had absolutely no support system. of course life throws struggles everyones way, but just struggle after struggle with no one to lean on eventually catches up with you. in fact, despite this what to me was a mystical and miraculous upward journey, i have always struggled with maintaining any sort of community or support system. friends groups came and went, for various different reasons. homophobia, exorsexism, racism, xenophobia, islamophobia, colorism, ignorance, ill intentions, and lack of accountability always ended up popping up one way or another, and the vast majority of instances the options seem to be let it slide or be ostracized. for a long time i internalized this pattern as reflecting poorly on me, as a “if it smells like shit everywhere you go check your own shoes” sort of thing. but that just doesn’t make sense when i look back on these groups and the same people are still fraternizing and engaging with the same people. people i maybe think about in a sad and longing way because i thought they were somewhat decent person whom didnt want to invest into a real friendship with me, still posted and flicking up with some of the worst nastiest people i’ve had the displeasure of encountering.

i ended up quitting the job as it got to a point where i was facing passive aggressive judgement for my gender presentation + while it was an incredible learning experience i started to feel like i was hitting a wall due to management and i was becoming completely disillusioned with the nonprofit i was employed by, on top of the low pay. i had some savings but i wasn’t able to find anywhere that would rent to me. all this coupled with not even having a community to anchor me down led me to nomading around the country for 3 months, and then i went back to nyc to try again from the ground up… but i was just way too tired this time. i just couldn’t.

all this is really to say… i can’t believe i’m back in this shitty fucking position, around my parents whom haven’t taken any responsibility for their actions, in this god awful state, back at square 0. i’m tired of being held to crazy high expectations to want to, expect the smallest bit of decency. i’m tired of having to work to be insanely exceptional at everything just to SURVIVE, just to have a space of my own and a guarantee that i’ll be fed. having to go above and beyond, just to be loved, seen, heard, or any effort to be understood. and this bullshit western rhetoric of focusing on self improvement and learning to love yourself and not worrying about anything else… sorry but that only works if you have privilege and opportunities. i’ve done the therapy, the meditation, the journaling, the showing up to community spaces. i genuinely love and accept myself (most of the time), i love my mind and the way i think, i love my body, i love my features, i love the image i was made in and the mind and spirit i possess. it took a lot of work to get to this point. and yet i’m still broke stuck in this neighborhood with 0 opportunity in sight that doesn’t involve compromising my morals or hating myself, watching everyone blindly continue to follow the indoctrination set by the imperial core.

i try to ask for help, but it has driven most people away in the past, because they couldn’t “handle it” or relate. obviously money would help when i’m dead broke, but at the end of the day what i really need is a community, a way to keep myself afloat, an out from this hellscape. i deserve that, don’t I?

sometimes I feel like there’s no place in this world for someone like me.