people. I was always talked down. I was shrugged off, and it became to the point now where even if someone says okay, gives me a thumbs up, does any kind of sign, I feel like it’s not good enough. I keep doing more, I do more and more to make sure that everyone’s okay. Even though in the back of my mind I know they’re okay, I keep doing more to make sure that they’re happy, not sad. I do it so much to the point where I stress myself out and get so angry. I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. I would work, I would drive the extra mile for people and all I would hear is just, any kind of reaction is just a shrug. I could see someone else barely doing anything and they would just get all of this praise and glory, and everything. It’s very upsetting to me, over 20 years happening, it still happens, whether it’s friend, family. Now I just don’t know what to do. That’s my biggest fear, that it’s happened so long, I don’t know if it will ever stop now. That’s my biggest fear. Home (pantalla esquerra) La meua major por és la gent. M’he passat la vida treballant de valent, fent el que he de fer. Fera el que fera, mai era prou per a la gent. Sempre em parlaven de forma condescendent. Sempre em menyspreaven, i ha arribat a un punt en què ara encara que algú em diga que està bé, que em faça un gest amb els polzes cap amunt, qualsevol gest, sent que no és prou. Continue fent més i més i més per a assegurar-me que tots estan bé. Encara que en el fons sé que estan bé, continue fent més per a assegurar-me que estan contents, que no estan tristos. Ho faig tant que al final m’estresse i m’enfade molt. A vegades no sé què fer. Treballava, em trencava l’esquena per la gent i tot el que sentia era tan sols... la reacció era tan sols un arronsament d’espatlles. Veia altres que a penes feien res i rebien els afalacs i la glòria, i tot. Em resulta molt dolorós que açò em passe des de fa més de vint anys; encara em passa, amb els meus amics, la meua família. Ara no sé què fer. Aquesta és la meua major por, que fa tant de temps que em passa que no sé si algun dia deixarà de ser així. Aquesta és la meua major por. 46 Woman (right screen) My parents divorced when I was very young, when I was about two years old, and even though that was hard and sad to grow up that way, I had a very good relationship with my mother. I lived with her, and living with her as a single mom was a lot of fun and I enjoyed it, and I felt that we were very close. When I was eight years old, my mother remarried somebody who I knew from the moment I met was not going to be a good person in my life. When I met my stepfather, he shook my hand and gave me a smile that was very insincere, and I was afraid of him. They married very quickly, about two months after they met each other, and we moved in with him hours away from where I’d grown up, and to a very small conservative town. He began to change the way my mother behaved. He’s very controlling of her, and because of his very strict religious beliefs, he made her, essentially, his servant. He said that she should serve him as the man of the house, and she had to follow all of his rules, and also discipline me according to his rules, which were very strict and I still believe very unfair. I was punished almost every day for something as small as leaving the light on when I left the room, to not sweeping sufficiently. This went on as I was young and the emotional and verbal abuse just got worse to both me and my mother. When I reached about twelve years old he began calling me a whore and a slut all the time, and would just yell at me and grab me, and throw me because of the clothes that I was wearing. I saw him once push my mother down the stairs, and she just told me that she had done something wrong and that I shouldn’t worry about it. But probably, or definitely the worst thing that this man did to me and the reason why I hate him is actually based off something that his son did. His son, who was my stepbrother, was eleven years older
Gillian Wearing
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