Zhao Fangshan has never known what a normal family should look like. From childhood to adulthood, his home was filled with noise. I have died twice, once because of my mom and once because of my dad.

"There is only one kind of heroism in the world

means that you still love life after seeing the truth of life"

Zhao Fangshan has never known what a normal family should look like.

His home is filled with noises since he was a child. Mom has a frustrated temper and is often angry; dad loves to drink and is unstable. He was strangled by his mother because he wanted to live in his aunt's house. He was strangled by his father's belt because he couldn't finish his homework. He was woken up from his sleep because he complained in his diary...

Conflicts continued to accumulate, and eventually several peanuts broke out. . That day, after being punished by his father to kneel down, Zhao Fangshan drank half a teapot pesticide...

Can a child who comes out get the understanding of his parents? How should a person who has not experienced warmth and love from his family survive?

The following is Zhao Fangshan's story:

narrator｜ Zhao Fangshan

narrator｜ Zhao Fangshan

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"Die twice"

I have died twice, once because of my mom and once because of my dad.

I have never liked to go home since I was a child and I don’t want to stay at that home. I always feel that no one’s home is better than my own. So that day, when my aunt invited me to stay at her house in the evening, I felt very happy and agreed.

I was only eleven or twelve years old at that time, and I couldn't even look at the adult's face. I didn't know that my mother's face had already been pulled down. Seeing that I was immersed in joy and had no response, she warned me sternly: "I'll say it again, you are not allowed to go."

I didn't understand, so I had to follow her home.

The corridor was dark and dark. We walked one by one, and no one spoke. Unexpectedly, my mother suddenly picked up the camera in her hand, looked at me and hit me a few times. Before I could react, she entered the room and tied my neck with the camera strap.

breathing was blocked, and I just felt that the eyes were dark and I lost consciousness in an instant.

Wait until I open my eyes again, my mother was shaking me and chanting fiercely: "Did you remember, remember, have you heard it clearly?!" Actually, I don't know what she just said at all. He said and did something, and he couldn't figure out why she was angry, so he could only nod his head numbly to express his obedience.

The few seconds in my life seemed to have been stolen. The experience of shock awakening in the past made me feel that I had died once.

There is another near-death experience because of my dad.

I was thirteen or fourteen years old that year. My mother and my dad were laid off one after another, and the whole family was shrouded in the clouds. They are not happy in life, work, and marriage are not happy. The family is filled with negative energy all day long, and any small Mars may detonate the room.

My dad was sleeping at home at noon that day. When I went home from outside, I saw a bowl of cooked peanuts on the table. I lay on the sofa and watched TV while eating the peanuts, and then put the shells neatly in the bowl. .

After my dad woke up, he pulled out his slippers and saw the remaining peanut shells. He started to lose his temper. He picked up the bowl and raised the peanut shells all over the floor, "You are living a comfortable life, go to the yard and kneel down. Go! ”

I feel so aggrieved. What did I do wrong? But I know that arguing is useless. In our family, it is impossible for me to be comfortable and comfortable. I must always be in a state of vigilance, and I must always pay attention to whether I have done anything wrong and whether I will be beaten.

I dare not refute, nor dare to disobey, so I stood up and went to the yard to kneel. It was the summer and the leaves were wilted by the sun. I knelt for about 20 minutes, and my face turned red.My dad didn't even raise his eyelids, so he said to me, "Pick up the peanut shells, why should I do it?"

I squatted in the yard, and I felt more and more aggrieved when I picked it up against the sun. is so embarrassed. I feel like a dog being humiliated by him. When he moves his mouth, I have to bow my head and admit my mistake. When he moves his hands, I have to climb all over the yard. But what can I do? I have no choice. If I quarrel with him, I will only gain a few slaps.

The more I thought about it, I became more angry. I thought I would be better off dying. As soon as my head was hot, I took a pot of insecticide and rushed to the second floor. I found a small teapot, sprayed it in half of the teapot, and poured it down as soon as I leaned my neck. That smell is particularly bad. When you swallow it, people will spit it out subconsciously, but I don’t care anymore. No matter how bitter it is, it will not be as painful as my heart.

Actually, I regretted it after two or three minutes after taking the medicine. Lying in bed, I was thinking, I haven’t spent my great youth yet, it’s not worth it to die like this.

I was waiting for the arrival of death in a huge sadness. Unexpectedly, twenty or thirty minutes passed, nothing happened, and my stomach didn't hurt.

For many years, as a child, the only way I can think of to fight my parents is self-harm. But after that attempted suicide, no matter what happened, the word suicide never jumped in my mind again.

Because I think that I didn’t die like that, I must be a child favored by God. Even if my parents don’t love me, someone will definitely be protecting me.

Twenty years of being disliked

It’s very funny to say that I am the only child, but my parents don’t even know what I like to eat. For many years, they have been busy fighting each other and dislike each other, and have no intention of caring for the people around them.

I have seen through a lot of things so old, but I can't see through what kind of relationship the two of them are.

heard from my grandmother that my parents got married very early and I had it at the age of 20. My dad loves to drink, my mom has a bad temper, and both of them are young and energetic, and they can't help but quarrel and fight every day. They don’t care whether I’m present or not. Sometimes when neighbors hear something falls again, they want to come over and take me out to avoid it, but my mother insists that it’s okay and ask everyone to go home.

She is the kind of person who wants to save face. She still has to pretend to be decent even though her inner body is already rotten.

The way they communicate is to quarrel and fight, and my education method is basically to beat and scold me. At that time, if I had any naughty behavior, my mother would lock the door and hit me with a broom, and grandma would knock on the door outside and persuade me.

But because the relationship between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law is not good, the more my grandmother persuades her, the more she beats her harder. Crying, sticks, and knocking on the door are intertwined, and the whole family is full of chaos all year round.

When we were five years old, we officially separated from our grandparents and moved to another small house. Without the control of grandparents, the unemployment wave has caught up with the wave of unemployment, and their parents have been laid off one after another, and their quarrels have become more and more unscrupulous. My dad is like a dynamite barrel, which can explode at any time, and my mom is the one who can click the fuse, which can be clicked at any time. The only person who will be blown up is myself.

Once, my mother scolded me so much that she couldn't raise my head because she had not finished copying the notes. She has a set of swearing words that can bring all the eighteen generations of my ancestors into it: "You little bastard, your dad is a big bastard, your grandfather is an old bastard, and there is no good thing in your family, all bastards are bastards, you are all bastards, you don't have a good thing in your family. ! ” As long as I make a mistake, everyone in my family’s household registration book will not escape.

My dad drank again that day, and when he heard the movement, he rushed out of the house, pulled a belt and sucked me into the death. The metal head of the belt hit my face, and my skin suddenly became swollen and high. The next day, pus began to flow again, and the wound continued to spread, and half of my face seemed to be rotten.I love beauty and don’t want to go to school with a bad face, but in my parents’ eyes, this is not a problem at all.

Sometimes I feel so bored that I will write some complaints about my parents and school into my diary. But I don't deserve even this freedom.

I remember one night at around 12 o'clock, I was woken up in my sleep. Open your eyes and saw my mother standing by the bed, tearing my diary page by page, and then throwing it on my face .

I lay on the bed motionless like a petrification, looking at my mother's condescending and swaying claws, and even wanted to laugh - two hours ago, she just promised me that she would never peek at my diary.

My self-esteem and my trust in her, just like those diaries that were torn apart, remained forever at the age of fifteen.

Coming out to my parents

Every time I suffer from grievance at home, I feel depressed and I will talk to my grandfather. Grandpa always advised me to bear it, and he said, after all, I still have to eat and drink theirs. When I get into college in the future, I can support myself, so I will leave.

Later I really left and basically never went home after going to college.

In the past seven or eight years, I rarely call home, don’t tell my parents about my affairs, and don’t want to know their affairs. People who are drifting in Beijing say that Beijing is crowded and feels insecure. That's not what I am. Every time I look at the vast crowd, I feel like fish entering the sea. I think it’s so good. There are so many people, no one knows me and knows my past. I no longer have to worry about someone coming out and hitting me a few times, nor do I have to worry about someone saying in my ear that I can't do this or that. I can finally restart my life.

But no matter what you say in your mouth, any child will long for the care of his parents and the warmth of his family in his heart.

That year, my dad called me for the first time, asked me what I was doing, and told me to be safe outside. At that time, I was at the trough of my life and was in great pain every day because of work and relationships. A few words from my dad were like throwing a rope for a drowning person, making me regain my expectations for life and family affection. I decided to share my biggest secret with my father, so I sent him a message: "Dad, I like men."

This is a secret I have been hiding for many years. Since I was 14 years old, I have realized my sexual orientation. At that time, I could not help but secretly look at a boy in the class, wanting to be friends with him, and wanting to go home with him after school. I ran to the Internet cafe to check information. What happened to boys like boys? A bunch of things came out on the webpage, and I understood, so that's how it was.

After graduating from college, I talked about another partner, thinking that he is the true love of my life in this life, and I want to give him all my heart and bet on love for the rest of my life, thinking that this can make up for the lack of growth process some feelings.

When my dad called, we were in a long-distance relationship. The long-distance relationship, the sudden concern of my dad made me confused. I was eager to share my secrets with others. I took the initiative to reveal the softest and secret part of my heart to my dad.

My dad is much calmer than I imagined. He replied to a long passage of my words and told me not to tell my mother first. At that time, I felt that my father was so great and responsible, and his image in my heart became glorious. No matter how he treated me in the past, he eventually became a person worthy of my trust.

But happiness is shorter than I thought. Five minutes later, my mother called and the first thing she said was sparking when she opened her mouth, "Can you let me live two more years?!"

I sat alone and laughed out loud.I am so stupid, so stupid that I will trust my dad again and look forward to family affection.

crossing that mountain

I actually never thought that my parents would understand my sexual orientation. In fact, I don’t care so much about their thoughts. However, my father's hypocrisy and deception in this matter made me even more disappointed with family affection.

After that incident, I went home less often because when I returned to that environment and saw a familiar house, I couldn't help but think that I had been beaten here and scolded there, and the whole person I can't extricate myself from painful memories.

html When I was 125 years old, I had to live at home because of the driver's license test. I wanted to borrow my mom's friend's car to practice for two days, but she didn't expect that she scolded again: "I don't worry about it normally, but I remember it during the exam. I won't look for it for you, I will find it myself!" I was exhausted. , repeated explanations still could not calm her anger, and a sentence hidden in her heart for a long time blurted out: "Don't you just spread your anger on me just because you are unhappy in your life?"

As soon as my mother finished speaking, she rushed into the kitchen , and rushed towards me with a knife.

My psychological defense completely collapsed, I turned my head and ran back to the room and locked the door. My thoughts surged into my heart like a tide. The fear of my childhood came to my face. The self-defense mechanism established after I went to college completely collapsed. I opened the window and shouted desperately to the outside: "I've murdered! I've murdered! I've murdered!" I felt both painful and hatred in my heart.

My mother was also frightened. She first knocked on the door wildly, and then she started choking and said, "Son, don't do this, mom is wrong, mom did something wrong." I stuffed my clothes into my trunk, ignoring her attempt to keep her. That night Then he went back to Beijing.

That runaway was a rare resistance in my lonely and helpless growth years. I thought my home might just be dispersed like this. How could my parents tolerate my "privilegedness" like that? Unexpectedly, it became a turning point in my relationship with my parents.

After that day, my mother's attitude towards me seemed to be undergoing some subtle changes. She no longer demands that I work hard and study hard, and occasionally reminds me to pay more attention to my health and rest well. I don’t understand why, it’s hard to understand and how to respond, until my dad accidentally mentioned two things -

My dad said that after I left that night, my mom drank a lot of wine at home alone and vomited all over the floor.

Another thing is that my mother's best friend's stepson committed suicide by lighting gas at home because of depression .

I think this may be the reason why my mother's attitude changes. Seeing my collapse with my own eyes and learning about the death of another familiar child, she might finally realize her paranoia. However, she still couldn't take that step, couldn't say "sorry", and could only show weakness to me in a roundabout way.

As I change my age, I also have more opportunities to participate in family activities, and many hidden stories have gradually surfaced.

A relative told me that my dad had been beaten a lot when he was a child, and my grandfather kicked him on the head in his leather shoes. I was shocked when I heard this. In my impression, my grandfather never scolded me, let alone attacked me. It turns out that everything has traces to follow. Because my grandfather used to treat my dad like that, my dad later became a grandfather-like father.

Many people say that the gap between children and parents is not like a conflict between two strangers or a fight between friends. It is much more difficult to resolve than this conflict. It is too deep, deep into the bones, like a mountain, it cannot be smooth and cannot be crossed.

But now I think that as long as you walk a few steps forward and your parents also walk a few steps forward, your heart may immediately get much closer. This is the magic of blood thicker than water.

Before, during the days of home isolation due to the epidemic, our family of three spent the two most harmonious months in my life. I never blushed, had never fought, and had never quarreled. We are still fighting against the landlord together. My dad lost, and my mom and I joked about him Alzheimer's and became stupid. The three of them laughed and their eyes became wet as they smiled.

I think it's enough, that's enough. I may never forget the hurt my parents have done to me, but I can't live with the past. I would like to put it in a small box, hide it in an inconspicuous corner, and not touch it easily.

I believe that people must yearn for light, and they are all moving towards the direction of light in their bones. No one wants to live with hatred, because that kind of hatred will seep into your bones and affect you and The relationship between others. A person cannot choose his own parents or his own family, but he can choose his own way of living. We have to go out of the mud, go to a wider place, and look for more love.

Sometimes, letting your parents go is also letting yourself go.

-END-

Article is reproduced from Beijing Youth x Liangzi Interview Official Account of the same name:

I have died twice, once because of my mother, once because of my dad...

I squatted in the yard, and I felt more and more aggrieved when I picked it up against the sun. is so embarrassed. I feel like a dog being humiliated by him. When he moves his mouth, I have to bow my head and admit my mistake. When he moves his hands, I have to climb all over the yard. But what can I do? I have no choice. If I quarrel with him, I will only gain a few slaps.

The more I thought about it, I became more angry. I thought I would be better off dying. As soon as my head was hot, I took a pot of insecticide and rushed to the second floor. I found a small teapot, sprayed it in half of the teapot, and poured it down as soon as I leaned my neck. That smell is particularly bad. When you swallow it, people will spit it out subconsciously, but I don’t care anymore. No matter how bitter it is, it will not be as painful as my heart.

Actually, I regretted it after two or three minutes after taking the medicine. Lying in bed, I was thinking, I haven’t spent my great youth yet, it’s not worth it to die like this.

I was waiting for the arrival of death in a huge sadness. Unexpectedly, twenty or thirty minutes passed, nothing happened, and my stomach didn't hurt.

For many years, as a child, the only way I can think of to fight my parents is self-harm. But after that attempted suicide, no matter what happened, the word suicide never jumped in my mind again.

Because I think that I didn’t die like that, I must be a child favored by God. Even if my parents don’t love me, someone will definitely be protecting me.

Twenty years of being disliked

It’s very funny to say that I am the only child, but my parents don’t even know what I like to eat. For many years, they have been busy fighting each other and dislike each other, and have no intention of caring for the people around them.

I have seen through a lot of things so old, but I can't see through what kind of relationship the two of them are.

heard from my grandmother that my parents got married very early and I had it at the age of 20. My dad loves to drink, my mom has a bad temper, and both of them are young and energetic, and they can't help but quarrel and fight every day. They don’t care whether I’m present or not. Sometimes when neighbors hear something falls again, they want to come over and take me out to avoid it, but my mother insists that it’s okay and ask everyone to go home.

She is the kind of person who wants to save face. She still has to pretend to be decent even though her inner body is already rotten.

The way they communicate is to quarrel and fight, and my education method is basically to beat and scold me. At that time, if I had any naughty behavior, my mother would lock the door and hit me with a broom, and grandma would knock on the door outside and persuade me.

But because the relationship between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law is not good, the more my grandmother persuades her, the more she beats her harder. Crying, sticks, and knocking on the door are intertwined, and the whole family is full of chaos all year round.

When we were five years old, we officially separated from our grandparents and moved to another small house. Without the control of grandparents, the unemployment wave has caught up with the wave of unemployment, and their parents have been laid off one after another, and their quarrels have become more and more unscrupulous. My dad is like a dynamite barrel, which can explode at any time, and my mom is the one who can click the fuse, which can be clicked at any time. The only person who will be blown up is myself.

Once, my mother scolded me so much that she couldn't raise my head because she had not finished copying the notes. She has a set of swearing words that can bring all the eighteen generations of my ancestors into it: "You little bastard, your dad is a big bastard, your grandfather is an old bastard, and there is no good thing in your family, all bastards are bastards, you are all bastards, you don't have a good thing in your family. ! ” As long as I make a mistake, everyone in my family’s household registration book will not escape.

My dad drank again that day, and when he heard the movement, he rushed out of the house, pulled a belt and sucked me into the death. The metal head of the belt hit my face, and my skin suddenly became swollen and high. The next day, pus began to flow again, and the wound continued to spread, and half of my face seemed to be rotten.I love beauty and don’t want to go to school with a bad face, but in my parents’ eyes, this is not a problem at all.

Sometimes I feel so bored that I will write some complaints about my parents and school into my diary. But I don't deserve even this freedom.

I remember one night at around 12 o'clock, I was woken up in my sleep. Open your eyes and saw my mother standing by the bed, tearing my diary page by page, and then throwing it on my face .

I lay on the bed motionless like a petrification, looking at my mother's condescending and swaying claws, and even wanted to laugh - two hours ago, she just promised me that she would never peek at my diary.

My self-esteem and my trust in her, just like those diaries that were torn apart, remained forever at the age of fifteen.

Coming out to my parents

Every time I suffer from grievance at home, I feel depressed and I will talk to my grandfather. Grandpa always advised me to bear it, and he said, after all, I still have to eat and drink theirs. When I get into college in the future, I can support myself, so I will leave.

Later I really left and basically never went home after going to college.

In the past seven or eight years, I rarely call home, don’t tell my parents about my affairs, and don’t want to know their affairs. People who are drifting in Beijing say that Beijing is crowded and feels insecure. That's not what I am. Every time I look at the vast crowd, I feel like fish entering the sea. I think it’s so good. There are so many people, no one knows me and knows my past. I no longer have to worry about someone coming out and hitting me a few times, nor do I have to worry about someone saying in my ear that I can't do this or that. I can finally restart my life.

But no matter what you say in your mouth, any child will long for the care of his parents and the warmth of his family in his heart.

That year, my dad called me for the first time, asked me what I was doing, and told me to be safe outside. At that time, I was at the trough of my life and was in great pain every day because of work and relationships. A few words from my dad were like throwing a rope for a drowning person, making me regain my expectations for life and family affection. I decided to share my biggest secret with my father, so I sent him a message: "Dad, I like men."

This is a secret I have been hiding for many years. Since I was 14 years old, I have realized my sexual orientation. At that time, I could not help but secretly look at a boy in the class, wanting to be friends with him, and wanting to go home with him after school. I ran to the Internet cafe to check information. What happened to boys like boys? A bunch of things came out on the webpage, and I understood, so that's how it was.

After graduating from college, I talked about another partner, thinking that he is the true love of my life in this life, and I want to give him all my heart and bet on love for the rest of my life, thinking that this can make up for the lack of growth process some feelings.

When my dad called, we were in a long-distance relationship. The long-distance relationship, the sudden concern of my dad made me confused. I was eager to share my secrets with others. I took the initiative to reveal the softest and secret part of my heart to my dad.

My dad is much calmer than I imagined. He replied to a long passage of my words and told me not to tell my mother first. At that time, I felt that my father was so great and responsible, and his image in my heart became glorious. No matter how he treated me in the past, he eventually became a person worthy of my trust.

But happiness is shorter than I thought. Five minutes later, my mother called and the first thing she said was sparking when she opened her mouth, "Can you let me live two more years?!"

I sat alone and laughed out loud.I am so stupid, so stupid that I will trust my dad again and look forward to family affection.

crossing that mountain

I actually never thought that my parents would understand my sexual orientation. In fact, I don’t care so much about their thoughts. However, my father's hypocrisy and deception in this matter made me even more disappointed with family affection.

After that incident, I went home less often because when I returned to that environment and saw a familiar house, I couldn't help but think that I had been beaten here and scolded there, and the whole person I can't extricate myself from painful memories.

html When I was 125 years old, I had to live at home because of the driver's license test. I wanted to borrow my mom's friend's car to practice for two days, but she didn't expect that she scolded again: "I don't worry about it normally, but I remember it during the exam. I won't look for it for you, I will find it myself!" I was exhausted. , repeated explanations still could not calm her anger, and a sentence hidden in her heart for a long time blurted out: "Don't you just spread your anger on me just because you are unhappy in your life?"

As soon as my mother finished speaking, she rushed into the kitchen , and rushed towards me with a knife.

My psychological defense completely collapsed, I turned my head and ran back to the room and locked the door. My thoughts surged into my heart like a tide. The fear of my childhood came to my face. The self-defense mechanism established after I went to college completely collapsed. I opened the window and shouted desperately to the outside: "I've murdered! I've murdered! I've murdered!" I felt both painful and hatred in my heart.

My mother was also frightened. She first knocked on the door wildly, and then she started choking and said, "Son, don't do this, mom is wrong, mom did something wrong." I stuffed my clothes into my trunk, ignoring her attempt to keep her. That night Then he went back to Beijing.

That runaway was a rare resistance in my lonely and helpless growth years. I thought my home might just be dispersed like this. How could my parents tolerate my "privilegedness" like that? Unexpectedly, it became a turning point in my relationship with my parents.

After that day, my mother's attitude towards me seemed to be undergoing some subtle changes. She no longer demands that I work hard and study hard, and occasionally reminds me to pay more attention to my health and rest well. I don’t understand why, it’s hard to understand and how to respond, until my dad accidentally mentioned two things -

My dad said that after I left that night, my mom drank a lot of wine at home alone and vomited all over the floor.

Another thing is that my mother's best friend's stepson committed suicide by lighting gas at home because of depression .

I think this may be the reason why my mother's attitude changes. Seeing my collapse with my own eyes and learning about the death of another familiar child, she might finally realize her paranoia. However, she still couldn't take that step, couldn't say "sorry", and could only show weakness to me in a roundabout way.

As I change my age, I also have more opportunities to participate in family activities, and many hidden stories have gradually surfaced.

A relative told me that my dad had been beaten a lot when he was a child, and my grandfather kicked him on the head in his leather shoes. I was shocked when I heard this. In my impression, my grandfather never scolded me, let alone attacked me. It turns out that everything has traces to follow. Because my grandfather used to treat my dad like that, my dad later became a grandfather-like father.

Many people say that the gap between children and parents is not like a conflict between two strangers or a fight between friends. It is much more difficult to resolve than this conflict. It is too deep, deep into the bones, like a mountain, it cannot be smooth and cannot be crossed.

But now I think that as long as you walk a few steps forward and your parents also walk a few steps forward, your heart may immediately get much closer. This is the magic of blood thicker than water.

Before, during the days of home isolation due to the epidemic, our family of three spent the two most harmonious months in my life. I never blushed, had never fought, and had never quarreled. We are still fighting against the landlord together. My dad lost, and my mom and I joked about him Alzheimer's and became stupid. The three of them laughed and their eyes became wet as they smiled.

I think it's enough, that's enough. I may never forget the hurt my parents have done to me, but I can't live with the past. I would like to put it in a small box, hide it in an inconspicuous corner, and not touch it easily.

I believe that people must yearn for light, and they are all moving towards the direction of light in their bones. No one wants to live with hatred, because that kind of hatred will seep into your bones and affect you and The relationship between others. A person cannot choose his own parents or his own family, but he can choose his own way of living. We have to go out of the mud, go to a wider place, and look for more love.

Sometimes, letting your parents go is also letting yourself go.

-END-

Article is reproduced from Beijing Youth x Liangzi Interview Official Account of the same name:

I have died twice, once because of my mother, once because of my dad...