Family: My Biological Family

853 Words4 Pages
There are many ways to define a family, whether it be a nuclear family, a stepfamily, a happy family or a broken one. No matter where we are situated in the world one universal belief stays true for all resilient families; they are built on foundations of trust, love and mutual understanding. To me, being apart of a family provides so much more than just financial comfort or a house to return to after the day ends. Families give us a sense of belonging and they are what moulded our identities the most during our developmental years. My biological family comprises of six people, me being the youngest child. At the top of the family tree are my parents, Zaliha and Abdul Sukor, who are the pillars of our family. The eldest of my siblings – my…show more content…
I was being unspeakably impudent, so she kicked me in the eye when I tried to cover my face with my hands - I knew she was about to hit me but I reacted too slowly. The area around my left eye bled. The very next day I went to school with a bruised eye and it only took my friends one look at my face to know who caused it. No one really cared. I did not expect them to. In December 2016, my mother broke down in front of my therapist, emotionally exhausted because I mutilated my forearm and I needed sutures. Again. It had not even been more than three days after I just got stitches for my other injuries, which caused my psychiatrist to have to hospitalize me for a few days. They had to give her some time off from me. I was too much for her. I knew I was. I suffered in the psychiatric ward. I was annoyed because I had to stay there, all because she could not stand me being at home with her anymore. She does not even bother to look at my face when I am home with her. Why would it have mattered if I stayed there? During the first night, I had another bad episode, which caused me to become violent out of frustration. All I wanted was to go home and sleep in my own bed. The male staffs restrained me by my ankles and wrists to a bed and jabbed me with sedatives. They said a lot of very insensitive words to me and it hurt. It hurt not being able to move my body at all for more than ten hours. I was alone in that padded, cream-coloured room, constantly being surveillanced. I felt abandoned by my own mother, and she did not even come to visit once during the first two
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