Okay, I've got another gem here. One early morning, I decided to wear a black dress for breakfast. There was something white on it, maybe some toothpaste, and "she" (mom) told me about it, I told her that it's nothing bad since we aren't going out or anything. I tried to get it off, but only managed to do so partially. After a few minutes, after my dad came, she told me about it again. I told her I don't care, using some swearing (not AT anyone) because 1) it was morning (you better leave me alone at that time of the day) and 2) we were heading to breakfast which means food which means I freak out. So no, I don't think it was wrong at all. Then they started to scold me and so on until we reached our table. There, they started to talk to each other about how rude and impolite I am, how they always do what I want, how ungrateful I am. He told me he'll slap me. I wanted to tell him to go ahead, because anyways, he wanted me dead ("So what, if you die, then we'll bury you, no problem" -- I'll never forget that), but I didn't say anything. As they were humiliating me, I started crying. And to make everything "better," some strangers at a table said: "Look at her face.."
I'll never forget those words, either. I will never forget the humiliation and shame I felt when they didn't let me go upstairs to wash my face and calm myself down. "Sure, whenever anything happens, you go and do some of your things." (read: cut) He also said that I make a big drama out of everything because I was crying. Out of anger and disgust and humiliation. Of course it was my fault, it wasn't them who made a huge thing out of a little toothpaste on my dress. Go to hell.
Back on topic, we eventually went upstairs and I went straight into the bathroom. He said, "Don't you dare do any of your shit (cut), I will find out." I answered him with "Yeah, sure" and closed the door. I cut a little, nothing bad, just a scratch - only because he's told me not to. Then, the real pain began. I took my toothbrush and hit myself with it. The pain was terrible, but so relieving. I couldn't move my arm anymore. I now have 3-4 purple bruises on each of my arms, probably around 4 bruises on my legs and two on my ribs. They still hurt a little.
And everything went.. "normally" from then on.