April 30th, 2011by fallenpastthe_cliff
Hi, I doubt anyone is reading this, but if you are, I’m warning you, it’s quite a long rant. Anyway, I’m 16 years old, and a suicideÂ survivorÂ (I guess that’s what it’s called). I guess I’ll explain my life in this rant.
Well right after my mother got pregnant with me, before she even found out, her boyfriend (my father) left. He had been abusing drugs and was anÂ alcoholicÂ (probably still is). TheirÂ relationshipÂ hadn’t been steady, more of an off and on thing. Anyway, they already had a kid together, 7 years before that, my sister. He stayed in her life until she was 7, when he left and stoppedÂ communicatingÂ with anyone in my family. It wasn’t a big deal until sheÂ realizedÂ he wasn’t coming back, and startedÂ strugglingÂ with making enough money. She didn’t/doesn’t have a job due to severe depression, so she gets a monthly check instead. Â As soon as she found out she was pregnant, she moved to a different state, and continued to only get the monthly check. When I came, things got tougher, and I honestly believe she hates me for making things more difficult.
Now I’ll skip to when I was about 7, since I don’tÂ rememberÂ much before that. I had already moved 4 times by the age of 7. By then I had another sister with a different father than me, so she’s my half sister. Her father left when she was 2. When I was 7 is when I remember clearly being abused by my mother. At one point I was put into the hospital and I got stitches 3 times from her throwing things at me and shoving me around. I simply told people I had fallen down stairs at school or at my house. I never fought back until I was 13. That’s when I first ran away. I had run away twice within a month to avoid being abused, when she called the police on me. She reported me, not expecting that when I was found, I still had bruises down my stomach and cuts on my face. She was then reported for child abuse, but I guess I didn’t matter enough to be taken away from her. They gave her another chance and had someone come once a month to check that I was still there. She never once abused either of my sister.
December of that year (2007) my best friendÂ committedÂ suicide 10 minutes after talking to me on the phone. I wasÂ devastatedÂ and soon got sick of the emptyÂ apologiesÂ from people I didn’t even know. I resorted to over dosing a week later. It obviously didn’t work, and I ended up waking up in the hospital. 4 months later I still felt depressed, except I felt worse since my friends hated me for doing that. I tried again, swallowing more pills than before, yet still failing. I then realized how hurt everyone was over my friends death, and I didn’t want people to go through that because of me. 4 months after that another of myÂ best friendsÂ hanged himself. I admitted myself into a mental hospital, to avoiding doing something stupid again. I stayed for a week and then went back home.
When I was 14, almost 15, 2 more friends died, one in a car crash, another a suicide. I tried to over dose again a week later, and woke up sick to my stomach on the floor. Later that year I was in an abusive relationship for a few months. A month after that I was sexually assaulted by a “friend” and then by my mothers boyfriend, and older sisters boyfriend. All these guys were drunk, and all tried to rape me. Because of this I have a major fear of older men when they drink. I also became anorexicÂ for a while, now I’m over that for the most part though. I realized life was shit, and I wanted die more than before. I over dosed again (I know that was stupid).
Now it’s 2 years later, and I still live with my mother, and younger sister. I’m planning on leaving once I graduate. I’ve lost almost every single friend I had back then, and I understand why. I was stupid, and I regret it, but I had reasons for each time. I now try my hardest to cheer up people and make sure they don’t feel alone. I have an amazing boyfriend, who probably won’t read this, I hope he doesn’t, he knows most of this anyway. I love him with all my heart, and he’s probably the only person I’m close to anymore, and he lives in a different state. He’s one of the few reasons why I’m alive, and I’m glad. I’m not sure what the point of this is, I guess just to show that if you’re going through something, you’re not alone. Also things get better.