First order of business: Tears of a depressed soul

It seems like you're going through a lot, and I'll do my best to help improve your writing and express your emotions effectively:

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So here's the problem: the woman I've always referred to as my mom, which I'm beginning to doubt, has always seemed to want to use me. I have a different surname, which is my mother's family surname. Supposedly, my parents told me that I was born before their official wedding.

Since I was little, ever since they had their first child, I've been maltreated by them. I was sent on errands that children my age weren't capable of, fed spoiled food, and mercilessly beaten for my mistakes. I know it might sound like something out of a Nigerian movie, but I'm being very honest here. Some people in this world have it worse than the movies.

As a child, the abusive life I was living worsened, becoming a nightmare and eventually trauma for me. Yet, deep down, I still loved them because I saw how hard they were striving to protect and provide for us.

At seventeen, going on eighteen, I'm beginning to suspect that they are not my biological parents.

I always hoped they would treat me like a normal human being, but I couldn't even play with my siblings without fear of being brutally beaten if they cried because of me.

I hated my life, and I still do. I wish I could just run away and be free, but it seems like no matter what, the nightmares and trauma of my life will always haunt me.

I'm very depressed, disheartened, and confused about what to do now. So I need your help. I've decided not to be in charge of my life anymore. I will report to you all what happens every day and will take the advice of the comment with the highest likes or the one that makes the most sense to me.

We all have our problems, and sometimes you may feel stuck, alone, and confused. But remember, you're not alone. We are a family here, and we'll support each other through all the pains and trials.

I've resorted to this because it seems like all my hard work isn't meant to pay off. At first, I thought I was lazy, but then it hit me that that's not the case. I wouldn't say that writing isn't my talent; it is. Although I might have posted my stories without experience, nothing was coming of it—no comments or support.

I still held on and continued for almost thirty chapters each. It's frustrating. My good friend, who was never interested in writing, succeeded, and I'm starting to feel like writing was more his thing than mine.

I'm even writing this with a glimmer of hope. Who wants to read about the boring, depressing life of an author? I'm sure I might not get even a single comment, but at least I didn't want to give up without trying.

I'm sure I'll be rated low and criticized for tainting webnovel with this filthy and pitiful write-up, the work of a depressed author.

But I would really appreciate it if you stick around. I've decided to disown myself, but I don't want to feel like a rejected creature. I want to believe that there are people like me who will relate, who will support me, and whom I can support in return. People who will give me a reason to live and make me feel at home.

So, the thing is, when I was seven, my aunts took me to Lagos State, and that was the best moment of my life. They gave me everything I wanted and gave me the best love and attention. They were more than parents to me; I owe them everything—my life, my education, my wealth, my well-being, and my moral attitude.

Because of this, it's really difficult for me to make decisions that might be best for me but would go against the principles of being a good and God-fearing child that they instilled in me. Even taking steps or actions that go against this is a no-no.

There were fights and objections, but since we were too far from their grasp and they were too poor to come over, we won. Every year we traveled back for holiday, and I was missing my siblings. Things were different that time; I was respected by everyone.

Everyone seemed to cherish me. I guess you know how important something is when you lose it, though it's not like I feel like I was important or anything.

The same character every year we traveled, and the same respect. So last year, after writing my JAMB and WAEC, I decided to go to a university near where they stay in Enugu State.

It was one of the best universities in the country, even in Africa, but there was more to it than just being the best for me. My aunts told me to stay with them and study in Lagos, but I disagreed. I couldn't keep running away from my nightmares; I had to face them. I thought I was strong and wise enough to face them.

But coming here, the abuse all started where it stopped, except for the beating part. I was taken advantage of because of my good morals. I was able to tame them with movies I downloaded on my phone, which held my dad in control. He wasn't doing much against me and even praised me. I know that if I had no phone, things would have gotten ugly, very ugly.

I hate recollecting these types of memories, but that's the only way you all can help.

We are poor; we had to hulk to see if we could eat a day, and I was even more of a burden. I was taking more of their food, and I wasn't providing anything in return. I felt useless, weak, and like a burden. I felt like the best I could do was to do whatever they asked of me, no matter how difficult and how much the after-effects would cost me.

As I endured, my aunts found out, scolded me, and made plans for me to go to my grandma's village and stay with her. There were disagreements and arguments, but I still managed to come and stay with her.

I was hoping to stay here. Once school resumes, I'll go and rent a house and stay on my own. I'm really happy here, and everyone said that I wasn't going back. I don't want to cause a scene or anger the mother I love.

Yes, I know, I sound annoying, even to myself. Maybe it's just an excuse to hide the fact that I can't confront and reject her.

She said she was coming next week to take me back. I'm afraid, angry, scared, and I feel inferior.

These things are because I was trained to consider people's feelings when acting and making my decisions, and I hate attention. I feel I'm not strong enough yet to go against them.

So what do you guys think? What action do I take? How do I approach things? Do you have a plan or do you think I'm seeing things the wrong way?