Running away from my abusive home
Donation protected
Hi my name is Vincy and by the following September I plan on running away from my physically and sexually abusive mom who has also tried to kill me multiple times over.
Donations provided here will be used to help me maintain the costs of living such as rent and food, along with art supplies so I can continue my life as an art student.
If you rather buy my original artwork as opposed to a donation, or would like to do both, please look at @mossyfroggyy on instagram for a selection of original art for sale. I also have an etsy account @kiwimii if you’d like to buy other types of artwork from me at a lower price.
An overview of the abuse I’ve endured:
(Possible trigger warnings ahead, please read at your own discretion)
According to multiple doctors the abuse I have been through is incredibly severe. The physical abuse in particular was so severe that at one point I became terminally ill and began coughing and occasionally vomiting blood up on a daily basis. The abuse I’ve endured has caused me to have multiple other disorders such as: PTSD, conversion disorder, memory loss, unknown dissociation disorder, depression, anxiety, and symptoms of psychosis. Conversion disorder alone causes me to randomly go into seizures, paralyzation (neck down, waist down, and occasionally only one or more limb paralyzation), partial or complete blindness, randomly collapsing, and much more.
Being born disabled (autism and adhd) adults around me began to voice their concerns about how “different” and “wrong” I was in comparison to typical children. Pressured by these voices my parents began to think that I was a failure child and tried to “normalize me” by taking me to various clinics, doctors, and using various medications. As the clinics, doctors, and medications couldn't “cure” me, my parents, and adults, began to get impatient and started using violence against me to “kick the disability out of me” and train me to become “normal." This physical violence grew and grew to the point that it became a regular occurrence and occasionally escalated to attempt murder.
By the time I was 7 years old I was receiving death threats from misc adults, my doctors, and my family alike. Going to the doctor’s office my specialized mental health doctor would say things such as, “You’re a disabled piece of shit, you should kill yourself.” “You’re going to rely on drugs your entire life and even then you’ll never be cured, my advice? Kill yourself and save everybody the trouble." which further implanted the idea into my parents head, especially my mom’s, that disabled equalled sinful.
The physical and sexual abuse typically happens for several years, then takes a break for two years, then continues to occur again.
My mom would regularly beat me until I passed out and do things such as push me against the wall and choke me until I passed out and woke up on the ground completely bruised and struggling for air. She would drive me to school and on the way there, lock the doors, and purposely try to crash the car to “kill us both instantly” before deciding that she didn’t want to die today and dropping me off at school. Some days, upon seeing me, she’d push me down the ground and grope my body, in particular my breasts, and claim that they were too “large” for a typical Chinese girl, calling me a slut, a prostitute, and a whore, who “wanted this” so she “gave it to me” again and again day by day.
She’d call me upstairs to show me something and upon arriving at the top of the stairs, turn around, and push my body down the stairs. Grabbing my ankles she’s throw me against glass, wood, and metal furniture and throw me at walls. She has force-fed me pills and hidden pills in my food, in ice cream, and in my drinks, which caused me all sorts of problems. She would take knives and try to stab me with all her might and I would run and dodge and hide in the bathroom and stay there until she calmed down and I could return outside.
Because of the nature of my home life, when I was little I grew accustomed to spending my days hidden in dark closets and crannies in the house to make sure I wouldn’t be found. Waiting and listening to footsteps and voices questioning where I was and that it was time for “playtime.” Occasionally I was not fed, and many days I did not eat even when there was food on the table because I did not want to be seen by my mom at all, and was suspicious about drugs in my meals and drinks. I would eat things such as tissue paper and bedding (yes I would crawl under the bed, rip the bedding, and eat it) among other things.
Like most abused kids I was threatened not to tell anybody or else she would kill me. Being afraid and small, I would take this seriously and tried being the perfect child, quiet and out of sight at all times.
By the time I was in high school she began realizing that I was growing up and she would be separated from her “play toy” and “doll.” Fearing this she tried to pull me out of high school and disrupting my education however she could to make sure I would fail my classes. By doing this I would have such little education that I would be unable to find a job, and end up having to life with her forever (her words). She would knock down my homework off the table, destroy my projects the day before it was due, and severely beat me all the meanwhile. I was an A student who ended up receiving Cs then Ds then failing classes because of this behaviour.
In response to this I begged and pleaded to her to allow me to remain in high school, and eventually, university. After a while we came to a compromise. If I followed every one of her tasks I would be granted the ability to an education, but only if I completed each task without fail. The first task consisted of me kissing her feet and begging. The second involved her emptying out the contents of the vacuum cleaner and garbage can and me eating that without resistance. The rest of these tasks I honestly cannot remember.
By the time I was in university she forced me to cut off contact with all my friends and forbid me from talking to others in class. She’d track me and know how long it took to get to and from each school building, which allowed her to know if I ever talked to somebody in between or after classes. At home I would use the washroom and she’d press her head against the door yelling at me to explain exactly everything I was doing inside the washroom. Using the toilet. Now standing up. Walking to the sink. Using the sink. Drying my hands. Exiting the washroom. Only to find her waiting outside for me, constantly and without fail. While doing homework I’d leave my drink to the left of me and pretend to turn and take a sip to glance over at the rooms beyond. She would be there, always, just standing there watching me.
As this behaviour slowly stopped she began fearing the fact that I would want to live in an apartment downtown and closer to school. So she began visiting me at night. I would wake up with her body around me, clutching me. Stroking my body and stroking my face and hair and whispering how much she loved me. At night she would grope my breasts and my groins in particular, and whisper to me things such as, “Don’t you ever leave me. If you ever try to I will find you and I will kill you. I know where your friends live. I will drive to their houses and burn them down along with their families. No matter where you go I will hunt you, I will find you, you are mine.”
--------------
Why didn’t you go to the police?
I did. On July 8th, 2018 I went to the cops after years of decision, years of courage, and with the support of my friends and followers. Upon telling them the situation in a single sentence, they shut me down and said that they didn’t believe me. Other things beyond that were said, but simply put, they didn’t believe me and stated that this was “not a police issue.”
What about the rest of your family?
My dad is aware of the abuse I’ve faced but is a bystander because he loves my mom. He is unwilling to intervene with her methods of “parenting.” My little sister adores my mom as well and follows her ideals at this point. She actively encourages my mom for the abuse towards me. I have not met any other relatives and we are not in contact with them. My entire family actively despises me and does not think I am a part of this family nor human.
What about doctors/social workers/etc?
Several doctors, counsellors, and social workers are all aware of my situation and do not know of any methods of helping me. At this point in time all they can do is listen to my feelings and ask “how are you doing?”
What about a shelter?
According to professionals I’ve seemed help from, they state not to go to the shelters because they are currently overcrowded or abusive themselves. I have personally looked into a mental health housing as well due to my disorders, with no avail since they are also overcrowded.
What’s your plan?
My friend’s apartment has an open vacancy starting from September 2018. The rent is affordable and the apartment is close to my school. Beyond that my friend is well aware of my home life and abuse situation and will help guide me through living away from home for the first time. Coming from a poor, low income family, I qualify for free tuition from OSAP so tuition fees are not a problem. Because of the abuse I faced, I am disabled to the point I cannot work (without going into seizures, etc) and receive ODSP from the government, along with my dad’s disability money from being his child. These two things are my sole sources of income. Money will be tight each month but most likely doable. I also earn money off of people buying my artwork online and at fairs, alongside with the occasional kofi donation.
Currently my ODSP money goes directly into my dad’s account. Once I arrive safely in my friend’s apartment I will go to my disability worker and ask for the money to be transferred into my bank account instead. The process of transferring the ODSP money into my account may be instant or take a few months to process. I am not sure. I will also need money to purchase furniture such as a bed, a desk, a lamp, a clothes drawer, a clothing rack, and misc items. I will also need to purchase a new phone plan most likely since my parents are currently paying for my current one.
Because of this, and the fact that money will be tight, I am asking for others to purchase my artwork, and/or to donate to this fundraiser or to at least share it so others can donate. This money will go towards helping me stay afloat for at least a little while.
Before September I plan to move my items such as clothes, books, and art supplies, bit by bit through the help of my friends holding onto my items for a few months. Bit by bit to avoid suspicion from my parents. (My parents do not notice most social media so this fundraiser should be safe most likely)
Thank you for reading all of this and for helping me out! You’re all real troopers! I love you, thank you!
Donations provided here will be used to help me maintain the costs of living such as rent and food, along with art supplies so I can continue my life as an art student.
If you rather buy my original artwork as opposed to a donation, or would like to do both, please look at @mossyfroggyy on instagram for a selection of original art for sale. I also have an etsy account @kiwimii if you’d like to buy other types of artwork from me at a lower price.
An overview of the abuse I’ve endured:
(Possible trigger warnings ahead, please read at your own discretion)
According to multiple doctors the abuse I have been through is incredibly severe. The physical abuse in particular was so severe that at one point I became terminally ill and began coughing and occasionally vomiting blood up on a daily basis. The abuse I’ve endured has caused me to have multiple other disorders such as: PTSD, conversion disorder, memory loss, unknown dissociation disorder, depression, anxiety, and symptoms of psychosis. Conversion disorder alone causes me to randomly go into seizures, paralyzation (neck down, waist down, and occasionally only one or more limb paralyzation), partial or complete blindness, randomly collapsing, and much more.
Being born disabled (autism and adhd) adults around me began to voice their concerns about how “different” and “wrong” I was in comparison to typical children. Pressured by these voices my parents began to think that I was a failure child and tried to “normalize me” by taking me to various clinics, doctors, and using various medications. As the clinics, doctors, and medications couldn't “cure” me, my parents, and adults, began to get impatient and started using violence against me to “kick the disability out of me” and train me to become “normal." This physical violence grew and grew to the point that it became a regular occurrence and occasionally escalated to attempt murder.
By the time I was 7 years old I was receiving death threats from misc adults, my doctors, and my family alike. Going to the doctor’s office my specialized mental health doctor would say things such as, “You’re a disabled piece of shit, you should kill yourself.” “You’re going to rely on drugs your entire life and even then you’ll never be cured, my advice? Kill yourself and save everybody the trouble." which further implanted the idea into my parents head, especially my mom’s, that disabled equalled sinful.
The physical and sexual abuse typically happens for several years, then takes a break for two years, then continues to occur again.
My mom would regularly beat me until I passed out and do things such as push me against the wall and choke me until I passed out and woke up on the ground completely bruised and struggling for air. She would drive me to school and on the way there, lock the doors, and purposely try to crash the car to “kill us both instantly” before deciding that she didn’t want to die today and dropping me off at school. Some days, upon seeing me, she’d push me down the ground and grope my body, in particular my breasts, and claim that they were too “large” for a typical Chinese girl, calling me a slut, a prostitute, and a whore, who “wanted this” so she “gave it to me” again and again day by day.
She’d call me upstairs to show me something and upon arriving at the top of the stairs, turn around, and push my body down the stairs. Grabbing my ankles she’s throw me against glass, wood, and metal furniture and throw me at walls. She has force-fed me pills and hidden pills in my food, in ice cream, and in my drinks, which caused me all sorts of problems. She would take knives and try to stab me with all her might and I would run and dodge and hide in the bathroom and stay there until she calmed down and I could return outside.
Because of the nature of my home life, when I was little I grew accustomed to spending my days hidden in dark closets and crannies in the house to make sure I wouldn’t be found. Waiting and listening to footsteps and voices questioning where I was and that it was time for “playtime.” Occasionally I was not fed, and many days I did not eat even when there was food on the table because I did not want to be seen by my mom at all, and was suspicious about drugs in my meals and drinks. I would eat things such as tissue paper and bedding (yes I would crawl under the bed, rip the bedding, and eat it) among other things.
Like most abused kids I was threatened not to tell anybody or else she would kill me. Being afraid and small, I would take this seriously and tried being the perfect child, quiet and out of sight at all times.
By the time I was in high school she began realizing that I was growing up and she would be separated from her “play toy” and “doll.” Fearing this she tried to pull me out of high school and disrupting my education however she could to make sure I would fail my classes. By doing this I would have such little education that I would be unable to find a job, and end up having to life with her forever (her words). She would knock down my homework off the table, destroy my projects the day before it was due, and severely beat me all the meanwhile. I was an A student who ended up receiving Cs then Ds then failing classes because of this behaviour.
In response to this I begged and pleaded to her to allow me to remain in high school, and eventually, university. After a while we came to a compromise. If I followed every one of her tasks I would be granted the ability to an education, but only if I completed each task without fail. The first task consisted of me kissing her feet and begging. The second involved her emptying out the contents of the vacuum cleaner and garbage can and me eating that without resistance. The rest of these tasks I honestly cannot remember.
By the time I was in university she forced me to cut off contact with all my friends and forbid me from talking to others in class. She’d track me and know how long it took to get to and from each school building, which allowed her to know if I ever talked to somebody in between or after classes. At home I would use the washroom and she’d press her head against the door yelling at me to explain exactly everything I was doing inside the washroom. Using the toilet. Now standing up. Walking to the sink. Using the sink. Drying my hands. Exiting the washroom. Only to find her waiting outside for me, constantly and without fail. While doing homework I’d leave my drink to the left of me and pretend to turn and take a sip to glance over at the rooms beyond. She would be there, always, just standing there watching me.
As this behaviour slowly stopped she began fearing the fact that I would want to live in an apartment downtown and closer to school. So she began visiting me at night. I would wake up with her body around me, clutching me. Stroking my body and stroking my face and hair and whispering how much she loved me. At night she would grope my breasts and my groins in particular, and whisper to me things such as, “Don’t you ever leave me. If you ever try to I will find you and I will kill you. I know where your friends live. I will drive to their houses and burn them down along with their families. No matter where you go I will hunt you, I will find you, you are mine.”
--------------
Why didn’t you go to the police?
I did. On July 8th, 2018 I went to the cops after years of decision, years of courage, and with the support of my friends and followers. Upon telling them the situation in a single sentence, they shut me down and said that they didn’t believe me. Other things beyond that were said, but simply put, they didn’t believe me and stated that this was “not a police issue.”
What about the rest of your family?
My dad is aware of the abuse I’ve faced but is a bystander because he loves my mom. He is unwilling to intervene with her methods of “parenting.” My little sister adores my mom as well and follows her ideals at this point. She actively encourages my mom for the abuse towards me. I have not met any other relatives and we are not in contact with them. My entire family actively despises me and does not think I am a part of this family nor human.
What about doctors/social workers/etc?
Several doctors, counsellors, and social workers are all aware of my situation and do not know of any methods of helping me. At this point in time all they can do is listen to my feelings and ask “how are you doing?”
What about a shelter?
According to professionals I’ve seemed help from, they state not to go to the shelters because they are currently overcrowded or abusive themselves. I have personally looked into a mental health housing as well due to my disorders, with no avail since they are also overcrowded.
What’s your plan?
My friend’s apartment has an open vacancy starting from September 2018. The rent is affordable and the apartment is close to my school. Beyond that my friend is well aware of my home life and abuse situation and will help guide me through living away from home for the first time. Coming from a poor, low income family, I qualify for free tuition from OSAP so tuition fees are not a problem. Because of the abuse I faced, I am disabled to the point I cannot work (without going into seizures, etc) and receive ODSP from the government, along with my dad’s disability money from being his child. These two things are my sole sources of income. Money will be tight each month but most likely doable. I also earn money off of people buying my artwork online and at fairs, alongside with the occasional kofi donation.
Currently my ODSP money goes directly into my dad’s account. Once I arrive safely in my friend’s apartment I will go to my disability worker and ask for the money to be transferred into my bank account instead. The process of transferring the ODSP money into my account may be instant or take a few months to process. I am not sure. I will also need money to purchase furniture such as a bed, a desk, a lamp, a clothes drawer, a clothing rack, and misc items. I will also need to purchase a new phone plan most likely since my parents are currently paying for my current one.
Because of this, and the fact that money will be tight, I am asking for others to purchase my artwork, and/or to donate to this fundraiser or to at least share it so others can donate. This money will go towards helping me stay afloat for at least a little while.
Before September I plan to move my items such as clothes, books, and art supplies, bit by bit through the help of my friends holding onto my items for a few months. Bit by bit to avoid suspicion from my parents. (My parents do not notice most social media so this fundraiser should be safe most likely)
Thank you for reading all of this and for helping me out! You’re all real troopers! I love you, thank you!
Organizer
Vincy Lim
Organizer
Markham, ON