Waiting for you

Français / English Slowly turning into an exclusive Hetalia blog. Sourced fanart and random reblogging.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.

[ptitlooloup]

Please help me get out

Hello to whoever will take the time to read this post,

I am known on Instagram and other social media by Lulu or ptitlooloup. I’ll be direct, I need help, you can either check why here or read this post.

I’ll warn you before you go further away, I talk about abuse, physical, mental and sexual abuse. Also about self hurt, and attempt of suicide.

I was born in France 23 years ago and eight months after my birth, things started to get difficult for me. Ever since then I’ve only experienced abuse and abandons from friends or family.

My father left my mother for another woman when I was a baby. Although I was young by then, only seeing him every two weeks and half the school holidays was not that easy. This happens to a lot of kids, and I was not that affected by it until later.

My mom started a new life with another man, my sister’s father. When I was three she was born. But her father acted as if I was not there, and when he decided to give me some attention it was only to punish me. With plushies thrown at my face or cold showers, having to sit down on a broom, hands being my head.

This was my first experience with abuse and it lasted for three years. Then my mom asked for a divorce and we happily lived together, just the three of us.

But this happiness did not last long.

She then met the man who are still haunting our worst nightmares. At first he was nice, he offered us gifts, was smiling and acting as a father figure but when we started to live with him things changed.

Abuse again, worse this time.

But all kind of abuse.

We were all beaten, my mom, my sister and me. He broke our self esteem with horrible words, marked us, scared us for life. I still remember some moments vividly. A night as my sister and I were being too loud, he grabbed her and punched her in the nose. I did all I could to get out of his grasp on my bunk bed and escaped. But when I got down to check on my little sister, blood was everywhere on her face, pillow and pajamas. I had to sneak out of the room to grab a towel and do what I could to stop the blood flow. I was around seven.

In 2004 my mom announced us that we were going to have a little brother. But the abuse did not stop, he kept beating her, breaking her. I have two images in my head, him pushing her on the ironing board and falling. And her sleeping on the ground of the corridor because he had locked their bedroom for letting me stay at home a school day when I was sick with the flu.

My little brother did not survive, abruptio placentae, he died eight hours after his birth. His name was Theodore and I still believe today that his own father killed him.

A year after I said enough. I took my 7 years old sister by the hand and ran away. A nice woman picked us up and called my dad who took us to the police. But instead of protecting us, they brought us back home.

My dad decided to take action, he scheduled an appointment at a child psychiatrist who wrote a letter to the police and said that “I should not go back home.”

The weekend after my mom left our step father with my sister while being pregnant with another baby.

He never got judged and is still free.

After that my dad took me in. I was starting to be a child again, slowly learning to be happy and not scared that if I said something wrong I would get hit.

But he was too overprotective and never let me see my mom. Only for Christmas, when my little brother Louison was born and three months after. When I had to take the hardest decision of my life. When I asked him if we could do as before, me living at my mother’s place and seeing him every two week and half holidays he made me choose between them.

I chose my mom.

Maybe it was not the best decision since he abandoned me afterwards.

But then a man came into our life again. And… He was nice, the best father figure you could dream of. He was protective, helped us get better, supported us when my mom started his bipolar episodes and watched us grow up for ten years. My little brother even saw him as a dad, so did I.

But then he changed… Last year in february he started to get touchy.

Everyday when we were alone he touched me, under my clothes. At first it was nothing, just a caress in the back I didn’t realize what was happening. But the months passed and after my back came my butt, then my stomach, then my breasts. One night he cornered me and hugged me close, way too close. I still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my neck. I managed to break free and cried myself to sleep this night.

I started telling my mom about it on March, she only kicked him out on June. I went to the police but the case ended up being abandoned, just like many other victims like me.

Now, we all live in what I would call a terrible apartment. None of us is okay.

My indebt, bipolar and depressive mom, who’s only getting worse and worse as time pass seems to have given up. I have to do everything while she just sits on her chair all day, just watching the tv.

My nineteen year old sister refuses to get help for her mental problems, instead she decides to leave home and will move next month. She refuses to help me in anything, refuses to get a job, refuses to help around the house.

My eleven years old little brother barely has enough clothes, and now refuses to go to school because he’s scared of leaving the house. We’ll have to homeschool him, and I’m the one working one the papers, calling the doctors, psychiatrist and school inspector that he has to see so we can homeschool him for free.

But I have a severe depression and social anxiety that prevents me from keeping working, I am on sick leave for eight months and will keep being on sick leave until I manage to get outside.

And I’m starting to give up. I feel like I’m stuck in this situation where I’m the one who everyone counts on. My grandmother and uncle started to drink again, badly drink which adds even more anxiety to my life.

I thought about killing myself many times, tried once and even grabbed scissors to cut my thighs.

Now I’m resisting these thoughts the best I can, but I’m the only one in my family who wants to get better. I’m the only one in my family who does everything for all of us to get better.

I take care of my brother but I can’t force my mom. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t tidy the house, nor do the dishes. She has never even called the surgeon she has to see to get a hip prosthesis, only sees her psychiatrist once every three months. She gave up and I tried everything to help her get better.

And because of my sick leave, my financial situation is really bad. I’m always under the line, always owing money to the bank and yet I still have to help my family. I only have 400€ every months, and my bank only accept me to go to -200€.

My mom has really bad debts due to her bipolarity, she had moments where everything was fine but she could not realize that what she was doing was not fine. She threw money out the window and now just has enough to pay some bills some of the food.

We barely have enough money to eat and buy what my brother needs. Because with these 400€, I have to pay for my credits that I subscribed for university and driving lessons, that I had to both give up to take care of my family; I have to pay for internet, for the tv, some food, phone plans for my siblings and I always get under -200€ every month, which gives me even less money to live with.

Yet I’m trying to get better, I’m trying to make my family better but according to my therapist who I don’t see enough because of the money, I have to get out if I want to fight my depression, anxiety and social phobia.

I need a stable environment and goals to achieve which I have but lack of money to do so.

I love my family but I want and need to move out, I need it for my own sanity. I can’t sleep at night even with my medication because all those problems are always in my head and my anxiety won’t leave me alone about it.

I want to go back to university and move to Canada to get closer to the person who helps me the best recently. Who helps me feel loved, safe and with who I can be myself and forget everything for a short amount of time.

But before being able to achieve that, I need to focus on myself and heal. But I barely have enough money to pay my therapist that costs me 46€ every time. I want to start a cognitive therapy online to learn to control my anxiety and live with it, to be able to go outside again and leave my room.

My dream would be to open a bakery with a café in Canada, make pastries and beverages for everyone. And when I’m better, start being a listener for free to people who need help like me. Bring a smile to people’s face like I always try to do even if I have trouble keeping one on.

Please help me change my life, help me get a brighter future.

Even one euro counts, and I’d forever be grateful to you. I can even try to give you something in return. I can draw, only on paper but I’m not too bad so I could do that for you. I can also write, if you need someone to write you something. A bio, a text, a drabble or a one shot. I’m ready for anything you’d might want.

Thank you to whoever might have read this until the end.

And stay safe.

If you’re in my situation, or one I used to be in, reach for help. There are help lines you can call, people who would be gladly ready to help and bring you solutions. In some countries you also have crisis text lines if calling is too hard for you.

But don’t stay alone.

You can also contact me, hit my askbox or my instant messages and I’ll reply whenever I can.

Stay safe, and thank you for anyone who would be able to help.

The link to my gofoundme page is here

If you want to donate via PayPal you can Dm me.

[louspandorasbox]

Please if anyone still follows me and still look at my blog, help me. Just a reblog would be appreciated if you can’t donate, but I really need to get out. I want to feel better.