Something I'm working on

This doesn't have a title yet but it's something I'm working on.

Last summer I finally got my mom to pay attention to me. It only took 20 years and some wild nights. It wasn’t my intention at the time to get her to notice, I thought I was partying because it was fun not a cry for attention. I stopped doing that when I was around six and I got beat in the tub for it. After that I was very selective about the times I cried. It’s not until I think about my life that I realize my actions were for a reason and not the reason I intended in the first place. I’m not sure of the exact event that all this stems from, it could be the abuse or the neglect. I never thought any of it affected me. I thought I was the exception to these rules. I figured since I was so young when it happened that it didn’t matter. I thought I could be normal. Whatever that meant, it’s not until I’m in a relationship that I question why I am the way I am. I never noticed how distant I could be. It never dawned on me that I don’t have friends because of events that made me distrust them. I was hoping that I didn’t have to deal with those unanswered questions I had. When I was around six years old I was being molested by my brother’s dad. At the time I thought he was my dad and I didn’t know what was going on. All I knew was it made me feel weird and it felt wrong and that I needed to tell my mom. I tried to tell her for a long time but I never could because he was always around. I think he knew that I would tell. He didn’t threaten me to be quiet at first he tried to tell me to keep our secret. I was Queen Tattletale as a kid though and I ratted everyone out. I still can’t believe that was me. I was that little girl with my dolly and my pig tails. I guess that’s why I killed all my dolls after that. Nobody protected me from him, my mom left him home to watch me, and my brother was just clueless because in his eyes his dad could do no wrong. I was the monster once I released the secret.