Let’s just say my name is Sofé Rae. I’m 13 years old. I think my mother is emotionally abusive. I remember being a child, but she wasn’t abusive then. As I got older, HOWEVER, she began to expect perfection. I had had all A’s in my classes up until fourth grade, where I got a B in math. She became aggravated towards me. She told me I was way too smart to be doing that. I apologized repeatedly. However, the older I got, the worse her outbursts became. SHE WOULD CALL ME A “shithead”, tell me I was Lazy and dumb. I had become way too way too under her control, and I knew it. I tried to negotiate with her, but she simply denied my opinions, telling me I was a bratty little bitch, rather than hearing me out. I began to stop sharing my opinions, I kept them to myself. I let her call me a bitch, shithead, idiot, brat, stupid, even if I had done nothing wrong. All of my siblings started to cope. I never said a word. Eventually I began to agree with her. I was worthless. I was stupid. I hated school, and my grades showed it. I turned up with a C in math the second semester of fifth grade. The names continued. It seemed as though I couldn’t do anything right. If I tried to talk to her she would bring up my grades. We had a grade school graduation, and they called all the students with honor roll onto the stage. I, of course, was left alone below the stage. I caught my mother’s eye that day, and she looked at me in shame. I’ve read about emotional abuse. The person doing it often tries to pin their sorrows on you. I was constantly told that it was my fault my father no longer seemed to love my mom, it was my fault my mother quit her job to take care of me, my fault my siblings were also failing. She blamed her “turrets” too. She was never diagnosed with turrets. Ever. I remember going to a choir rehearsal, I took a shower before, and I decided to shave my legs for the first time. We ended up being late, and my mother yelled at me immensely for taking so long. I started to ask her permission for every little thing. Can I shave my legs, can I have a shower, can I step outside, can I text my friend? I don’t know if this qualifies. I think I am being paranoid. I would never tell anyone. I don’t think I am being verbally abused. I live my mom. I do everything she says. I am suicidal. I live in my head. I have no close relationships, not even with my dad. What should I do?