Unworthy in Trauma

As far back as I can remember, I have always stood out yet, remained in the background of my big family. I was always curious about why I was never given attention. Why was I the one always facing the harshest punishments and no recognition. Why I was the one facing severe abuse while being a young child.
The little events of being neglected or left out grew. One memory I had was that my older two siblings were rock climbing and I wanted to join in. I was asking my parents if I could try also however, they did not even look down or acknowledge my request. That was the first time I recognized that I was starting to get different treatment. Of course that seems like a minor incident, I wish it were.
My parents did not hesitate to blame my siblings wrong doings on me. My sister threw her wand at the television and cracked the screen. My mom came storming through the family room and screamed at me for the break. My heart was racing, I was sweating but, I could not speak to defend myself. This happened many times and those situations became more harsh. Far too harsh for a child.
I was no older than ten years old at this time. I was frustrated because my parents always acknowledged my hard work in the household such as cleaning, feeding my siblings, bathing them and putting them to bed, as my sister’s doings. They would go out to the club and on their way home they would get themselves food including my older sister too. I would not have eaten those nights because there was hardly enough food to feed my siblings so I sacrificed my portions to them. There, I would sit. I would watch them eat cheesesteaks and my sister receiving and accepting compliments for how well everything was taken care of, all the meanwhile I was not even looked at and my stomach felt like it was going to cave due to the hunger. This occurred multiple times a week.
I started to recognize that no matter how much I take care of my other siblings, no matter how many chores I completed in the house, I would never live up to what my parents wanted. I realized it was me that they did not want at all. I spent my entire childhood feeling like I were Cinderella. Whenever I found joy in something, it was taken away. I loved playing softball and doing cheerleading. I started because I realized how involved my parents were with my older siblings for doing sports. However, every practice and every game I had, no matter how good I really was, they never showed up for me. My parents never picked me up from those practices or games. I would have to hitch a ride with my mates to make it to my games. I was drenched, dehydrated and walking miles home from around eight to twelve years old. My passion for those sports dwindled quickly to the point I just could not keep up anymore. I left behind the first true thing that was mine.
I felt tremendous jealousy when people walked around in the new “fad”. The Aeropostale collar shirts that only costed $10. My parents took all of my siblings on shopping sprees. I received my sister’s hammy-downs. I wore ripped, loose, stretched clothing. I was very thin for my entire childhood. I begged for clothing that fit right but I was always told the clothes that I were handed down was good enough.
One day, for some reason, my dad came home and wanted to be nice to me. He told me to get dressed because he is taking me to get a pair of Ugg boots. I felt like my soul had left my body, I stood frozen and overcome with such excitement that was not familiar to me. I did as he said. He took me to a parking lot where a man was selling Uggs. At the time I had no idea this was a man selling fake boots but I do not care either way, my dad was doing something for ME! We picked a pair and I was so overjoyed! I get home and show them to everything what dad had gotten ME! My older sister was furious, stomped around that she did not get a pair. The next day before I had even gotten to wear them, my sister stole them. She hid them at her friends house around the corner so every time she went out she stopped there, put my Uggs on and went out. I knew it was her, she always hated me too. I cried to my parents and they did nothing about it. I screamed and screamed at my sister every day until she finally gave them back months later when they were ruined. I showed my parents and of course they did not do anything about it.
These are some times of my childhood when I started to really grasp that I was the unworthy child. This unworthiness turned into a tremendous amount of abuse and neglect which I will speak about in my next entry.