Out Crazy the Crazy (11)


Living in constant fear does crazy things to a person’s mind. My own mind was altered by living with someone who wanted to physically hurt me. She fought the urge to harm me every day, because she could easily take it too far. I began to change. I got a little older and began playing the game with her. I didn’t want to, but survival brings out the worst in people. I began to mimic her in ways she didn’t quite grasp. I started staring at her deeply and begrudgingly. My hateful looks were a direct reflection of the way she looked at me every time I was around her, and she started noticing. This is when things were at their worst.  I recall so many arguments from this point in time. I had been back from Houston for a while now and any glimpse of normality was taken from me. I had finally come to terms with my living circumstances and I was going to do what I could to remain sane. 

Sane. What a funny word that really is. I assumed this entire time that I was keeping myself sane, but actually I was just beginning to go crazy. I started becoming the person I hated most in the whole world. I was becoming my own nightmare. I am not going to sugar coat this part of my life because it was not pretty. There is no form of light that could bring greatness on this portion of time. I started taking out my anger on my youngest brother. I was angry all the time and I felt I had no control over my rage. I started lashing out at my step mom when she made her little remarks, and my entire family was miserable.

The war at home continued to play out day after day, and she and I would both get our jabs in. To be honest, I was only retaliating when she began to act out twords me. I would respond in unexpected ways to throw her off, and this came as a shock to her because I had been so submissive in the past. One particular morning we were heading to school and she asked me her favorite question, “You just love chaos don’t you?”. First of all I didn’t love chaos and I won’t over explain this to you because I’ve already done that, but what kind of crazy person loves chaos?

She asked me that question and I responded with something along the lines of, “Yes I love it! I really love it when you treat me like shit everyday and make me want to kill myself.” She laughed at me because apparently what I said was funny to her. I didn’t get it. She brushed me off as if I didn’t bother her a bit. It was kind of a hard thing to come to terms with and I’m sure she meant for me to sit and think about it.

During the coming months I made a point to show her just how dangerous I could be, because she obviously wasn’t afraid of me. One time in particular I was washing the dishes and she came into the room. I happened to be holding a large knife and began washing it slowly while making eye contact with her. I made a comment to one of my siblings that I’d bet that the knife was sharp enough to stab someone with, and she heard me. After that day she began to sleep with her bedroom door locked. I had succeeded.

I know it sounds insane, but the amount of mental trauma I had to experience caused me to do things that I never would consider doing now. I counted that moment as a success and that is very sad. No child should feel that a threat to their family is a great accomplishment, but I did. I realize now looking back on it that I should not have spent so much time dwelling on torturing her and that was wrong of me. I did feel those things though and that’s not a part of my story that I’m going to leave out. I want you all to understand every emotion that flooded through my adolescent brain. I was lost and confused and I needed help, but had none.


Taylor J.


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