Part 1/2
“My first memory was my parents fighting. When I was 3, they separated and a few months later my mother told me: “your father doesn’t want to see you anymore”. From that day on, I started banging my head against walls and biting my hands. I couldn’t deal with the abandonment. Soon after my mother filed a complaint against my father for pedophilia. An investigation was opened, but it got stuck. My hearing at the police station was not really worth anything because I’d say yes and no at the same time. They could feel I was being pushed to say yes but they didn’t know to what extent. I was hospitalized to try to find out more, but I was released after a month without any conclusion.
Time passed, I lived alone with my mother without being able to see my father. And my mother started to manipulate me. Stupid things like: “Do you love mom? Well then you have to cook”. And as soon as I’d express the slightest emotion, she’d hit me. The law of silence that she imposed on me allowed her to be really violent. And since I didn’t have any friends at the time, I had no way of knowing if things were normal or not. At school I started to have a lot of behavioral problems. I was very aggressive, I’d fight for any reason. And the school finally pushed my mother to send me to see a psychiatrist.
The psychiatrist was the first person I told about what was going on. But she told me, “Stop lying, a mother always loves her children”. From that moment on, I completely shut myself up and didn’t speak about anything. At the same time, a friend of my mother’s had told her about a hypnotherapist and she decided to take me to see him. I was 5 years old during the first session. And he saw the body of a young girl and decided have his own pleasure instead of doing hypnosis sessions. And for 4 years, at each session the same thing kept happening. But since an adult had told me to stop lying about these things, I didn’t tell anyone.
When I was 8, the case against my father was dismissed. I was still living with my mother but I could see him more and more. Things were going well with him and I discovered that a parent can play games, take care of their child, etc. I didn’t see the hypnotherapist anymore, but my mother had started to drink and she started to abuse me. And the violence went further and further. She broke my wrist and twisted my knee. Every time I was at my dad’s house, I refused to leave. But I couldn’t put into words why. I still couldn’t say to myself, “This isn’t normal”. I thought that I was the problem, that I couldn’t stand all of it.
When I was 11 years old, my grandfather died and my cat was put down. That was too much, and I had my first paralysis attacks. For hours I was immobile without feeling my legs. The doctors did tests but didn’t find anything. After several stays in a psychiatric hospital, they realized that the seizures happened systematically when I had to go to my mother’s house. The SPMI decided to place me temporarily with my father, and from then on, I had less and less contact with my mother. But at the same time, the bullying at school became unbearable. Then one day, I had a fight with my mother and it was like a spark for an explosion. And I swallowed a whole box of Concerta.
I should have died that day, but my heart didn’t stop. I guess it wasn’t my time… A short time later, I met a great nurse. One evening we were talking about suppression, about burying things deep inside, and all of a sudden he saw my face change. And then I broke down completely and told him everything that had happened with my mother. Everything came out, I was in tears. It was the first time I really talked about it. And then I was hospitalized again for 6 months, and I received support. But basically, nothing was done about my mother. And once I was released from the hospital, I found myself back in a shelter.”
Part 2/2
“During this time I continued to make multiple suicide attempts, either by medication or by cutting my wrists. The harassment at school became really unmanageable. The physical violence was more and more frequent and it was also on social networks. One day, it went too far. I was sitting in my seat and someone hit me in the back of the head. My head hit the desk and I passed out. Then one night at the shelter, I started writing down everything that had happened with my mother on a computer and decided to show it to an educator. As she was reading it, I saw her break down.
The shelter decided to contact the SPMI who filed a complaint on my behalf against my mother. I felt like I was finally being taken seriously. And a long legal battle begun. In 2020, after 5 years of proceedings, the prosecutor summoned me. She told me: “I believe you, but there is no material proof. I can’t do anything”. I looked at her and I told her: “In 2020 you can rape your kids and get away with it”. And I left. It’s was huge feeling of injustice. I really felt abandoned by the system. The day when I had finally managed to find the strength to speak, the case is dropped. I tell myself that nobody gives a damn about me. And I continued to make my suicide attempts.
Today, I still have flashbacks, nightmares, the same things over and over. I’m trying to deal with the anxieties that this generates. And I’m trying to understand why I can’t walk. In December 2021, I had another paralysis attack, and since then I can’t feel my legs. Will I ever be able to walk again? I can’t project myself into the future, there are too many unknowns. But despite all that, things are starting to calm down a bit. I have fewer and fewer suicidal thoughts, and I used to live full-time with my father before I was in a wheelchair. His home is not suitable for a wheelchair so I’m in a hotel. But little by little, things are starting to get better.
There is another thing that is going pretty well too. When I was 16 I came out as transgender. So I was born a girl and I’m transitioning to male. The hormones, the operations, even if it’s heavy, it’s also a release because I was in a body that didn’t suit me. And now it’s going better and better towards something that suits me. And it gives me goals and the motivation to move forward. From the age of 4 I felt that I was more of a boy than a girl. But I didn’t have the space to question who I was. And around 16, as it was a little calmer, I was able to feel it, live it, and find caring people to support me through it.
Between the ages of 18 and 20, I spent more time in the hospital than I did at home. I’m 21 now, and I’ve made more suicide attempts than I have years of life. But I’ve struggled so much that sometimes I think, “It can’t all end like this”. Okay, I’m not completely out of the woods. But if someone had told me 2 years ago that I could have a different vision of life than just dark thoughts, I wouldn’t have believed it. And yet now I’m experiencing it! And I realized that there is a lack of testimonials like this one. So by sharing my story, I hope to show that we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that things can get better and that we can get through it.”
Part 1/2
“My first memory was my parents fighting. When I was 3, they separated and a few months later my mother told me: “your father doesn’t want to see you anymore”. From that day on, I started banging my head against walls and biting my hands. I couldn’t deal with the abandonment. Soon after my mother filed a complaint against my father for pedophilia. An investigation was opened, but it got stuck. My hearing at the police station was not really worth anything because I’d say yes and no at the same time. They could feel I was being pushed to say yes but they didn’t know to what extent. I was hospitalized to try to find out more, but I was released after a month without any conclusion.
Time passed, I lived alone with my mother without being able to see my father. And my mother started to manipulate me. Stupid things like: “Do you love mom? Well then you have to cook”. And as soon as I’d express the slightest emotion, she’d hit me. The law of silence that she imposed on me allowed her to be really violent. And since I didn’t have any friends at the time, I had no way of knowing if things were normal or not. At school I started to have a lot of behavioral problems. I was very aggressive, I’d fight for any reason. And the school finally pushed my mother to send me to see a psychiatrist.
The psychiatrist was the first person I told about what was going on. But she told me, “Stop lying, a mother always loves her children”. From that moment on, I completely shut myself up and didn’t speak about anything. At the same time, a friend of my mother’s had told her about a hypnotherapist and she decided to take me to see him. I was 5 years old during the first session. And he saw the body of a young girl and decided have his own pleasure instead of doing hypnosis sessions. And for 4 years, at each session the same thing kept happening. But since an adult had told me to stop lying about these things, I didn’t tell anyone.
When I was 8, the case against my father was dismissed. I was still living with my mother but I could see him more and more. Things were going well with him and I discovered that a parent can play games, take care of their child, etc. I didn’t see the hypnotherapist anymore, but my mother had started to drink and she started to abuse me. And the violence went further and further. She broke my wrist and twisted my knee. Every time I was at my dad’s house, I refused to leave. But I couldn’t put into words why. I still couldn’t say to myself, “This isn’t normal”. I thought that I was the problem, that I couldn’t stand all of it.
When I was 11 years old, my grandfather died and my cat was put down. That was too much, and I had my first paralysis attacks. For hours I was immobile without feeling my legs. The doctors did tests but didn’t find anything. After several stays in a psychiatric hospital, they realized that the seizures happened systematically when I had to go to my mother’s house. The SPMI decided to place me temporarily with my father, and from then on, I had less and less contact with my mother. But at the same time, the bullying at school became unbearable. Then one day, I had a fight with my mother and it was like a spark for an explosion. And I swallowed a whole box of Concerta.
I should have died that day, but my heart didn’t stop. I guess it wasn’t my time… A short time later, I met a great nurse. One evening we were talking about suppression, about burying things deep inside, and all of a sudden he saw my face change. And then I broke down completely and told him everything that had happened with my mother. Everything came out, I was in tears. It was the first time I really talked about it. And then I was hospitalized again for 6 months, and I received support. But basically, nothing was done about my mother. And once I was released from the hospital, I found myself back in a shelter.”
Part 2/2
“During this time I continued to make multiple suicide attempts, either by medication or by cutting my wrists. The harassment at school became really unmanageable. The physical violence was more and more frequent and it was also on social networks. One day, it went too far. I was sitting in my seat and someone hit me in the back of the head. My head hit the desk and I passed out. Then one night at the shelter, I started writing down everything that had happened with my mother on a computer and decided to show it to an educator. As she was reading it, I saw her break down.
The shelter decided to contact the SPMI who filed a complaint on my behalf against my mother. I felt like I was finally being taken seriously. And a long legal battle begun. In 2020, after 5 years of proceedings, the prosecutor summoned me. She told me: “I believe you, but there is no material proof. I can’t do anything”. I looked at her and I told her: “In 2020 you can rape your kids and get away with it”. And I left. It’s was huge feeling of injustice. I really felt abandoned by the system. The day when I had finally managed to find the strength to speak, the case is dropped. I tell myself that nobody gives a damn about me. And I continued to make my suicide attempts.
Today, I still have flashbacks, nightmares, the same things over and over. I’m trying to deal with the anxieties that this generates. And I’m trying to understand why I can’t walk. In December 2021, I had another paralysis attack, and since then I can’t feel my legs. Will I ever be able to walk again? I can’t project myself into the future, there are too many unknowns. But despite all that, things are starting to calm down a bit. I have fewer and fewer suicidal thoughts, and I used to live full-time with my father before I was in a wheelchair. His home is not suitable for a wheelchair so I’m in a hotel. But little by little, things are starting to get better.
There is another thing that is going pretty well too. When I was 16 I came out as transgender. So I was born a girl and I’m transitioning to male. The hormones, the operations, even if it’s heavy, it’s also a release because I was in a body that didn’t suit me. And now it’s going better and better towards something that suits me. And it gives me goals and the motivation to move forward. From the age of 4 I felt that I was more of a boy than a girl. But I didn’t have the space to question who I was. And around 16, as it was a little calmer, I was able to feel it, live it, and find caring people to support me through it.
Between the ages of 18 and 20, I spent more time in the hospital than I did at home. I’m 21 now, and I’ve made more suicide attempts than I have years of life. But I’ve struggled so much that sometimes I think, “It can’t all end like this”. Okay, I’m not completely out of the woods. But if someone had told me 2 years ago that I could have a different vision of life than just dark thoughts, I wouldn’t have believed it. And yet now I’m experiencing it! And I realized that there is a lack of testimonials like this one. So by sharing my story, I hope to show that we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that things can get better and that we can get through it.”
Part 1/2
“My first memory was my parents fighting. When I was 3, they separated and a few months later my mother told me: “your father doesn’t want to see you anymore”. From that day on, I started banging my head against walls and biting my hands. I couldn’t deal with the abandonment. Soon after my mother filed a complaint against my father for pedophilia. An investigation was opened, but it got stuck. My hearing at the police station was not really worth anything because I’d say yes and no at the same time. They could feel I was being pushed to say yes but they didn’t know to what extent. I was hospitalized to try to find out more, but I was released after a month without any conclusion.
Time passed, I lived alone with my mother without being able to see my father. And my mother started to manipulate me. Stupid things like: “Do you love mom? Well then you have to cook”. And as soon as I’d express the slightest emotion, she’d hit me. The law of silence that she imposed on me allowed her to be really violent. And since I didn’t have any friends at the time, I had no way of knowing if things were normal or not. At school I started to have a lot of behavioral problems. I was very aggressive, I’d fight for any reason. And the school finally pushed my mother to send me to see a psychiatrist.
The psychiatrist was the first person I told about what was going on. But she told me, “Stop lying, a mother always loves her children”. From that moment on, I completely shut myself up and didn’t speak about anything. At the same time, a friend of my mother’s had told her about a hypnotherapist and she decided to take me to see him. I was 5 years old during the first session. And he saw the body of a young girl and decided have his own pleasure instead of doing hypnosis sessions. And for 4 years, at each session the same thing kept happening. But since an adult had told me to stop lying about these things, I didn’t tell anyone.
When I was 8, the case against my father was dismissed. I was still living with my mother but I could see him more and more. Things were going well with him and I discovered that a parent can play games, take care of their child, etc. I didn’t see the hypnotherapist anymore, but my mother had started to drink and she started to abuse me. And the violence went further and further. She broke my wrist and twisted my knee. Every time I was at my dad’s house, I refused to leave. But I couldn’t put into words why. I still couldn’t say to myself, “This isn’t normal”. I thought that I was the problem, that I couldn’t stand all of it.
When I was 11 years old, my grandfather died and my cat was put down. That was too much, and I had my first paralysis attacks. For hours I was immobile without feeling my legs. The doctors did tests but didn’t find anything. After several stays in a psychiatric hospital, they realized that the seizures happened systematically when I had to go to my mother’s house. The SPMI decided to place me temporarily with my father, and from then on, I had less and less contact with my mother. But at the same time, the bullying at school became unbearable. Then one day, I had a fight with my mother and it was like a spark for an explosion. And I swallowed a whole box of Concerta.
I should have died that day, but my heart didn’t stop. I guess it wasn’t my time… A short time later, I met a great nurse. One evening we were talking about suppression, about burying things deep inside, and all of a sudden he saw my face change. And then I broke down completely and told him everything that had happened with my mother. Everything came out, I was in tears. It was the first time I really talked about it. And then I was hospitalized again for 6 months, and I received support. But basically, nothing was done about my mother. And once I was released from the hospital, I found myself back in a shelter.”
Part 2/2
“During this time I continued to make multiple suicide attempts, either by medication or by cutting my wrists. The harassment at school became really unmanageable. The physical violence was more and more frequent and it was also on social networks. One day, it went too far. I was sitting in my seat and someone hit me in the back of the head. My head hit the desk and I passed out. Then one night at the shelter, I started writing down everything that had happened with my mother on a computer and decided to show it to an educator. As she was reading it, I saw her break down.
The shelter decided to contact the SPMI who filed a complaint on my behalf against my mother. I felt like I was finally being taken seriously. And a long legal battle begun. In 2020, after 5 years of proceedings, the prosecutor summoned me. She told me: “I believe you, but there is no material proof. I can’t do anything”. I looked at her and I told her: “In 2020 you can rape your kids and get away with it”. And I left. It’s was huge feeling of injustice. I really felt abandoned by the system. The day when I had finally managed to find the strength to speak, the case is dropped. I tell myself that nobody gives a damn about me. And I continued to make my suicide attempts.
Today, I still have flashbacks, nightmares, the same things over and over. I’m trying to deal with the anxieties that this generates. And I’m trying to understand why I can’t walk. In December 2021, I had another paralysis attack, and since then I can’t feel my legs. Will I ever be able to walk again? I can’t project myself into the future, there are too many unknowns. But despite all that, things are starting to calm down a bit. I have fewer and fewer suicidal thoughts, and I used to live full-time with my father before I was in a wheelchair. His home is not suitable for a wheelchair so I’m in a hotel. But little by little, things are starting to get better.
There is another thing that is going pretty well too. When I was 16 I came out as transgender. So I was born a girl and I’m transitioning to male. The hormones, the operations, even if it’s heavy, it’s also a release because I was in a body that didn’t suit me. And now it’s going better and better towards something that suits me. And it gives me goals and the motivation to move forward. From the age of 4 I felt that I was more of a boy than a girl. But I didn’t have the space to question who I was. And around 16, as it was a little calmer, I was able to feel it, live it, and find caring people to support me through it.
Between the ages of 18 and 20, I spent more time in the hospital than I did at home. I’m 21 now, and I’ve made more suicide attempts than I have years of life. But I’ve struggled so much that sometimes I think, “It can’t all end like this”. Okay, I’m not completely out of the woods. But if someone had told me 2 years ago that I could have a different vision of life than just dark thoughts, I wouldn’t have believed it. And yet now I’m experiencing it! And I realized that there is a lack of testimonials like this one. So by sharing my story, I hope to show that we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that things can get better and that we can get through it.”
Part 1/2
“My first memory was my parents fighting. When I was 3, they separated and a few months later my mother told me: “your father doesn’t want to see you anymore”. From that day on, I started banging my head against walls and biting my hands. I couldn’t deal with the abandonment. Soon after my mother filed a complaint against my father for pedophilia. An investigation was opened, but it got stuck. My hearing at the police station was not really worth anything because I’d say yes and no at the same time. They could feel I was being pushed to say yes but they didn’t know to what extent. I was hospitalized to try to find out more, but I was released after a month without any conclusion.
Time passed, I lived alone with my mother without being able to see my father. And my mother started to manipulate me. Stupid things like: “Do you love mom? Well then you have to cook”. And as soon as I’d express the slightest emotion, she’d hit me. The law of silence that she imposed on me allowed her to be really violent. And since I didn’t have any friends at the time, I had no way of knowing if things were normal or not. At school I started to have a lot of behavioral problems. I was very aggressive, I’d fight for any reason. And the school finally pushed my mother to send me to see a psychiatrist.
The psychiatrist was the first person I told about what was going on. But she told me, “Stop lying, a mother always loves her children”. From that moment on, I completely shut myself up and didn’t speak about anything. At the same time, a friend of my mother’s had told her about a hypnotherapist and she decided to take me to see him. I was 5 years old during the first session. And he saw the body of a young girl and decided have his own pleasure instead of doing hypnosis sessions. And for 4 years, at each session the same thing kept happening. But since an adult had told me to stop lying about these things, I didn’t tell anyone.
When I was 8, the case against my father was dismissed. I was still living with my mother but I could see him more and more. Things were going well with him and I discovered that a parent can play games, take care of their child, etc. I didn’t see the hypnotherapist anymore, but my mother had started to drink and she started to abuse me. And the violence went further and further. She broke my wrist and twisted my knee. Every time I was at my dad’s house, I refused to leave. But I couldn’t put into words why. I still couldn’t say to myself, “This isn’t normal”. I thought that I was the problem, that I couldn’t stand all of it.
When I was 11 years old, my grandfather died and my cat was put down. That was too much, and I had my first paralysis attacks. For hours I was immobile without feeling my legs. The doctors did tests but didn’t find anything. After several stays in a psychiatric hospital, they realized that the seizures happened systematically when I had to go to my mother’s house. The SPMI decided to place me temporarily with my father, and from then on, I had less and less contact with my mother. But at the same time, the bullying at school became unbearable. Then one day, I had a fight with my mother and it was like a spark for an explosion. And I swallowed a whole box of Concerta.
I should have died that day, but my heart didn’t stop. I guess it wasn’t my time… A short time later, I met a great nurse. One evening we were talking about suppression, about burying things deep inside, and all of a sudden he saw my face change. And then I broke down completely and told him everything that had happened with my mother. Everything came out, I was in tears. It was the first time I really talked about it. And then I was hospitalized again for 6 months, and I received support. But basically, nothing was done about my mother. And once I was released from the hospital, I found myself back in a shelter.”
Part 2/2
“During this time I continued to make multiple suicide attempts, either by medication or by cutting my wrists. The harassment at school became really unmanageable. The physical violence was more and more frequent and it was also on social networks. One day, it went too far. I was sitting in my seat and someone hit me in the back of the head. My head hit the desk and I passed out. Then one night at the shelter, I started writing down everything that had happened with my mother on a computer and decided to show it to an educator. As she was reading it, I saw her break down.
The shelter decided to contact the SPMI who filed a complaint on my behalf against my mother. I felt like I was finally being taken seriously. And a long legal battle begun. In 2020, after 5 years of proceedings, the prosecutor summoned me. She told me: “I believe you, but there is no material proof. I can’t do anything”. I looked at her and I told her: “In 2020 you can rape your kids and get away with it”. And I left. It’s was huge feeling of injustice. I really felt abandoned by the system. The day when I had finally managed to find the strength to speak, the case is dropped. I tell myself that nobody gives a damn about me. And I continued to make my suicide attempts.
Today, I still have flashbacks, nightmares, the same things over and over. I’m trying to deal with the anxieties that this generates. And I’m trying to understand why I can’t walk. In December 2021, I had another paralysis attack, and since then I can’t feel my legs. Will I ever be able to walk again? I can’t project myself into the future, there are too many unknowns. But despite all that, things are starting to calm down a bit. I have fewer and fewer suicidal thoughts, and I used to live full-time with my father before I was in a wheelchair. His home is not suitable for a wheelchair so I’m in a hotel. But little by little, things are starting to get better.
There is another thing that is going pretty well too. When I was 16 I came out as transgender. So I was born a girl and I’m transitioning to male. The hormones, the operations, even if it’s heavy, it’s also a release because I was in a body that didn’t suit me. And now it’s going better and better towards something that suits me. And it gives me goals and the motivation to move forward. From the age of 4 I felt that I was more of a boy than a girl. But I didn’t have the space to question who I was. And around 16, as it was a little calmer, I was able to feel it, live it, and find caring people to support me through it.
Between the ages of 18 and 20, I spent more time in the hospital than I did at home. I’m 21 now, and I’ve made more suicide attempts than I have years of life. But I’ve struggled so much that sometimes I think, “It can’t all end like this”. Okay, I’m not completely out of the woods. But if someone had told me 2 years ago that I could have a different vision of life than just dark thoughts, I wouldn’t have believed it. And yet now I’m experiencing it! And I realized that there is a lack of testimonials like this one. So by sharing my story, I hope to show that we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that things can get better and that we can get through it.”