1

This is my family...
Me, my dad, my mom, and my older sister.
We all used to live together in a small apartment in outer copenhagen.

2

My Father was a russian felon, one who liked his whisky a little too much.
My Mother was a russian nurse, who worked night shifts and double shifts, she liked to drink wine a little too often.
I barely recall seeing my sister, she was always out, or shut herself in her room with her computer.
I was innocent and oblivious.
We were financially unstable. My mother worked hard to settle in a new country with nothing but a family and a dream. My father was running from his sins and drowning in the law.

3

Both my parents were stressed beyond human capcities, causing them to fight, more and more.
They didn't bother to do it quietly, or atleast in another room.
The fights got worse and worse, and one day that was really all that mattered.
They started to ignore the needs of their young child that was barely in school. And then they started projecting their unresolved issues, ignoring me or yelling at me for no reason at all.

4

Soon, yelling and ignoring wasn't enough.
They became violent.
Slapping, hitting, pulling my hair, hitting me with items.
I walked the streets with blue marks and yet no one said anything.
They got creative with punishments.
They made me stand in corners for hours a day.
They refused to feed me.
They'd leave me in the hallways of the house, free for strangers to take.

5

One day it got really bad.
As i accidentally injured myself and shed a tear, my mother was enraged, leading to a violent fight bewteen her and my father.
He strangled her as he yelled "Я УБЬЮ ТЕБЯ"(i will kill you) she cried out begging him to do it.
I felt guilt, i ran to my parents, to my mother, to stop my father.
He pulled me away, left my mother crumbled on the floor.
And so he grabbed my mouth, held my sprawling limbs down and touched me all around.

6

It was a punishable act to shed tears or show any negative emotion.
In our home, only neutrality and smiles.
And so my brain rewired, to only show those two, no matter how painful the situation. Just as how you train a dog.

7

The authorities started showing at our door, asking for my father.
And the law caught up to him, and so he was deported from denmark.
At the time i thought he was going on a business trip, i was told he'd return in a few weeks. A few weeks passed, then months, and then years...
I never saw him in denmark again.
My sister moved out at a young age.
It was just me and my mother.

8

I grew up an unhappy child, both my parents wondered why.
I always thought that my home was normal, that every child was treated this way, until i came out in the world. I was never able to connect with people, every word, every action felt like a threat.
I was never able to do anything, i walked so carefully, afraid of punishment.
Every friend i made, left me in the end.
I struggled to wake up everyday, remembering things i wish i didn't.
I cursed everything and everyone, why, why me.
I was lonely, until i unexpectedly changed, not for the good.

9

I found solace in substances.
I became a fulltime alcoholic. I drank in school, vodka in waterbottles, whisky in cola bottles, i was never sober.
It started as a joke, until i started trembling in class, until i had to run to the restroom to throw up. I was writhing in pain on the floor at home, all because i was sober.
I hurt myself, scars running down my arm, burns covering my hand, i sought relief in the pain.
I found relief in smoking, cigarettes or more. I finally understood why my father smoked, why my mother smoked whenever we were at the airport. It was the smoke that hugged me tight in a warm embrace, and for just a second i am not here.
Even though i never was addicted to pills, but moderately took them, i must say that my heart longs for them everyday, those opiates are dangerous but oh so sweet.

10

One day though, i took it too far.
I ended up in a room, with a psychiatrist.
They told me i might be bipolar, they told me they wanted to medicate me, they told me all sorts of stuff.
I never could tell them what made me like this.
Illness or not, this was so painfully unfair, or maybe not.
To this day i can't help but blame myself for everything that happened.