my tragic life

My name is Evelym Larissa Tavares Cirqueira and what you are about to read here is a piece of my story. Writing this is not easy, but it is necessary to understand myself, organize myself and perhaps find strength where sometimes there is only tiredness. I will try to tell everything as truthfully as possible, starting from my childhood to what I am experiencing now. This story is long, but each line carries marks that made me who I am.

Since I was little, my life has been full of shadows. I grew up with a very strong fear of men, even before any abuse happened. Even before my stepfather molested me, I already had a fear that made no sense at the time, but today I strongly suspect that my own father may have done something to me. I never had clear memories, but after he tried to abuse other cousins of mine, a bitter and silent certainty grew within me. He died years later, and I was left with this emptiness, this deep-rooted fear

My first relationships started early. When I was 13, I started dating Romeu, a boy from school. We were together for five months. He was the first one to cause me real trauma. When my mother found out, it was ***. My stepfather got mad, and my mother reacted badly. They were always much more protective of my brother. Even when they gave me things, the emotional treatment was unequal. I felt alone, even in my own hom

After Romeu came Edeilson, who I dated for two years. He was the one who left me with the biggest traumas, such as emotional dependence and other situations that left a deep impression on me. Then, I got involved with Allex. Our relationship lasted only one night and left me trapped in difficult thoughts and emotions. He used me and ignored me. A month later, he tried to get back together as if nothing had happened. I found out later that he had been dating someone the whole time he was with me. I felt guilty, dirty, use

In between these relationships, I met Maria Alice, a friend who also came from a broken home. Her brother was a drug addict, her mother suffered from depression, and her sister was negligent. Her older brothers took advantage of her because she was the youngest. I lived through many of these situations because I often slept at her house. It was my escape. I even remember the day my drunk stepfather begged her to sleep at my house and got angry when I said n

My stepfather said disgusting things. He said that if I wasn't his stepdaughter, he would stay with me. He would give me money for things in exchange. He showed me his private parts, touched my breasts, and put psychological pressure on me. I felt dirty and guilty. My mother pretended not to see. They had been together since I was six months old. My stepfather always showed clear signs of pedophilia in front of her, and she never did anything. She just pretended not to se

The psychological abuse was constant. There were episodes in which I was blamed for simple things, like when my brother followed my mother to the health clinic. She verbally abused me as if it were my fault. I grew up with these emotional punishments. I was already in a bad place when I met Raylan at 15, when he raped me. I felt dead inside. After that, I went to the shelter, and in a way, it was my fault to

There at the shelter, the pain only grew. Before going there, Maria Alice and I would go straight to the house of a man named Francisco, the father of a baby we were taking care of. That's where we would drink. It was a way to numb the pain, to escape. But our friendship cooled off. Something happened that I'll never forget: once I ran away from school with her, drunk, after drinking wine at her godmother's house. Social services found out and found out everything. A police report was filed. Her godmother had serious problems and Maria Alice started to hate m

When I went to the shelter, we only saw each other at school. Things between us were never the same again. The pain of loss, of separation, of guilt for having caused trouble for the one I loved, suffocated me. Even so, little by little, we got closer again, even though I was in another city. We are still friend

I was so attached to Allex because, for a moment, I thought he would treat me differently. He got involved with me, and even after ignoring me, I still wanted his presence. Finding out that he was cheating on me only reinforced the feeling of uselessness. And, even so, I felt bad for not being able to forget hi

I could never forget Romeu either. He was the first one to make me feel something real, even with the traumas. And that haunts me to this da

Today I see that my mother always knew. About everything. But she prefers to ignore it. To pretend she didn't see, that she didn't hear. She prefers the comfort of denial to the pain of responsibility. She never protected me. And today, she makes me suffer even from afar. When she told my brother to block me, she broke a part of me. He was my connection to her, and I love my mother. Even with everythin

Today, I struggle with OCD, with the pain of the absence of my deceased brother whom I never knew. I grew up feeling inferior, left out. I use my cell phone as my only source of sanity. I feel out of my body, as if I live on autopilot. I do things without feeling. I just do them. As if my soul were far away, waiting for the world to stop spinnin