I still remember the day my parents found about my sh. (I’m 6 months sober rn) it was honestly the worst day of my life. My parents are Hispanic so ig you can say mental health in our community isn’t important or treated as such. I still remember when my dad lifted up my sleeve and he saw my sh. He yelled at me and started asking me questions. My mom was asking me why I was doing “that” and that I was crazy and that I was going to hell/ people who do that go to hell. And then my mother slapped my across the face. I still feel the way her hand slide across my face. I started crying and shaking a lot. My dad took my phone away from me. And I went upstairs sobbing. I wanted to call my brother so badly. Just to see if he’d come pick me up. I was going to call him on my tablet but I hesitated. I go downstairs and I finish eating and clean my room. My mom pulls me into a hug trying to say she’s sorry or wtv. I fucking hate that bitch, I already hated her but this. I hated her 10x more.