I want to die. I want to go to heaven. I want to believe in God. I want, but never get.

This note is really long, so only read if you’re prepared. This is my story and how I feel. If you have something negative to say, please don’t say it. I’m not really sure what exactly I put in this note because i wrote it on a different site a few days ago, but I still feel the same. Sorry if there is any cussing and just to let ya know… This note wasn’t finished. I have many other things that trouble me daily, but I got tired of writing…

I don’t see the point in life anymore. I’m not even sure if i’m Christian anymore. I want to be because I want to believe that my sister is safe with God in heaven.. But I just can’t believe, like seriously God hasn’t been there for me my whole life. But if I don’t believe in God then I would no longer be afraid of hell and that would mean suicide wouldn’t send me to hell because I don’t believe.  Things went bad when I was around 6 when I got raped and molested and nothing has gotten better! The only way it could ever get better is to a) move in with someone else or b) wait until i’m 18 and move out on my own. But I can’t wait until i’m 18! I’ve packed my bags and tried to move in with my ex bff and my mom wouldn’t let me go and said that I could move in with my dad or Grandma. But I freaking hate my dad! I’ve hated him every since I got to know him. He cheated on my mom with so many women even a prostitute at one point! I can go onto the computer we’ve had forever and find sexcams and shit for singles. He wasn’t even single! My mom cried so much for him! My dad was lazy too! And his excuse is that my twin sister died?! That is no excuse. That should actually make him want to help the family get back up to the top.. If we ever even made it to the top.. Ugh. I didn’t even know what my dad looked like when I was in 1st grade! I used to color my family all pink and purple and crap, but no, my dad was black and brown. I had no freaking idea what he looked like. He was always sleeping and called in sick for work every single day. He was on crack big time. We became poor and we barely could afford to stay in that house with my mom working 3 different jobs. One of the jobs were babysitting and omg, My two brothers were already enough to destroy the house! And they are still like that now! I’m sick of living in this fucking pigsty! But we soon got kicked out of that house because we got so poor, thanks to my dad. I even remember hiding our car in the backyard because we couldn’t afford it and we couldn’t let anyone take it away. Oh, and when my dad abandoned me and my family he didn’t even say goodbye and I was only down the street at my cousins house! All I got was a phone call and I didn’t even get an ‘I love you’! I remember my cousin coming over and I apologized constantly for my dad’s yelling at my mom. I also remember writting in my pink diary when I was younger that I was afraid and crying because my dad was trying to bust the door down with a hammer and he took my brothers. I still hate my dad. He still smokes pot daily. And now, he has a girlfriend that I absolutly hate. I caught them two having sex and it bothers the heck out of me! If that was my mom, it’d be different. Maybe I wouldn’t care. But THAT truck driver talkin’ lady is NOT my mom. Ugh. My mom is a ***** now too. I used to feel soo bad for her. I was momma’s little angel. I always wished a happy ending for her. Then her boyfriend Michael came along… I didn’t like him. But he made my mom soo happy so I didn’t care. I never said anything. Turns out he’s an alcoholic and he’s gotten into so many fights with my mom I end up cussing him out and tell him to get the fuck out of my house. He always acts like he’s my dad. “Go to your room!” He would say. And I would then reply “Your not my dad! Get out of my house!”. He’s brought up my self harm and said it in front of everybody. He’s put the red roses he bought my mom upside down in the vase (He bought them to prove a point that red roses weren’t bad). Point soo not proven. My mom still hates those roses. My dad never saw my mom on Valentines day… all my mom would get were some red roses and my mom would spend the day crying. I found diaries where she was upset because she loved my dad, but he treated her so badly. But anyway, Michael has also poured out the water in the vase (after we threw the roses away, which I saved one to throw at him that he later tore up). He’s broken liquor bottles and sliced my moms toe open. He has tried to drive drunk with his son (I was pissed!). He has done soo much to make me hate him. And once he left one night for the 30th time he stayed in a hotel over night. I thought I could relate to my mom since I felt the way about my now ex bff as she did with her ex boyfriend. But no, she let him back in! Under one condition though: He wasn’t allowed to drink at all or else he’ll be kicked out again. Well guess what!? On the 17th of December it was my moms birthday and he drank!! And he put throw up on my clean clothes, blasted the music, rejected my calls, and so therefore, I could not sleep. I ended up crying because besides everything else that was pissing me off, He was drinking!! And so I ran outside and ended up walking to my dads house. I hate him. I’ve caught him and my mom in the sex act too. I HATE IT! Again, if it was my dad, it’d be soo different. Especially because I hate Michael! My mom is such a ***** now that he’s here. Sometimes I wish I could be little 5 year old Samantha again.. Mommy’s angel. I loved her. Soo. Much. She always blames me for everything. She never noticed the cuts on my arms until my dad told her. I never go to my dads, but since I worked at his work over this summer, He saw them. I’ve wrestled my mom too. Just because she thought I was self harming. Yeah, maybe I was, but I didn’t want her to know. She wrestled me to the ground trying to get my jacket off. “You’re too fat!!”, I told her. I made her bleed. And I laughed about it. And I could stare her in the eyes and keep a straight face. I didn’t care if she was hurt. I looked at her like she was the devil. I looked the devil in the eye and laughed. Oh, and i’ve wrestled my dad too recently. They took me to a counselor. I went willingly when they said I didn’t have to participate. They said I could even wait in the hall. They lied. The took me in the room and in the first sentence I ran out crying. “I’m ___, and your dad told me.. that you well.. have been.. Cutting?”, she said. Oh man, that day sucked. Well, when I had ran out of the counselors office my mom tackled me and threw me over his shoulder so I dug my nails into his back which made him angry so the started fighting back. I had alot of bruises to hide. I made him bleed too. And. I. Didn’t. Care. How can I be so emotionless? Has THAT much life been sucked out of me?! I wish I could just move in with my Grandma, and trust me, I’ve already packed up and tried. But no, my mom changed her mind. She can change her mind whenever she wants to because she’s the adult. I call adults “Kids with money”, but she doesn’t have money so she’s just a kid that’s been living for a long while. Everyone hates me. My brother has tried to kill me several times. My mom, dad, his gf, mom’s bf all hate me. Caylie hates me (my ex bff).. Ex bff.. since today.. Ugh. I don’t even miss her. I don’t even want her back. But omg, I had cared for her more than anyone could ever care about anyone. I hate my life so I wanted to focus only on her. She was the only good thing in my life. She was a distraction from all of this. I put her through pain with the self harm crap though, but she didn’t handle that well. You aren’t supposed to get mad at someone for self harm. That’s when you’re supposed to help them retard!! Butnow I guess I can focus on the ones who really do care about me and don’t ask me to die. Caylie lets me attempt suicide too. She’s told me to die before. I HATE HER NOW. She’s hurt me soo much, but I didn’t care. I loved her. I couldn’t help it. We had such a blast together, but she didn’t wanna be my friend because I was depressing. Depressing? Depressing?! At least she’s not the one that’s actually fucking depressed! She’s lucky. But I won’t envy her. I envy nobody. I just want death. I was to die. I wish all of the people that hate me would just gang up and take turn throwing knifes at me. Maybe I’d get lucky and someone would slit my throat or get to my brain or something causing death. I’m sick. I’m sick. I’m just plain out sick. Not fever type sick. I’m sick as in screwed up. I need to get to a hostpital before I do something stupid to myself more severe than self harm. But I don’t want to go!! I need to go though.. UGH!! Fml. Fml. FML. FUCK MY LIFE!! I hate. I hate. I hate. I’m a hated and hateful person. I hate you Bailee! I hate you Robert! I hate you neighbor guy! I hate you dad! I hate you mom! I hate you Michael! I hate you Tammy! I hate you Danielle! I HATE. Why do I hate to be so damn smart. I over analyze on everything.. Like my life! I’m poor. My sister’s dead. I’ve been raped and molested. I hate people. My $2,000 car is a piece of shit. Fuck, only half the doors on the car open. The ceiling of the car is cracked. The seats and everything is torn up. The car is covered in dents. The windows are all messed up. The windows won’t roll up or down. The car doesn’t even start half the time. I’m done with that. There is so much wrong with that car it could last forever. Long story short, the only thing not broken in that car is the front windshield. I have 7 best friends and I can’t talk to any of them about my life because it’s too much pain and stress on them. I learned that from Caylie experience. I cannot lose anyone else like I lost Caylie. The only person I can really talk to is Amber. She says she’s been through what i’m going through now. I don’t exactly WANT her to help, because honestly, I feel like it’s putting her through what she’s already been through. She said she’s gonna and yes, I can stop her. But I don’t think I will… I NEED help, even if I don’t WANT help. That’s why I found this site… By typing in “helpme.com”. I’m sick of being depressed and cutting myself. I once promised like everyone that I would never self harm again, but I like to do damage when i’m angry. And only I can really judge the damage I do. I don’t really feel pain of the cuts anyway, I’m used to the feel. I ran through too many thorns when I was little from running from my brother and his knifes. I hate doing self harm to myself. I don’t see why I punish myself for everyone else’s stupidity. I once had hope that I could escape this torture without dying. I thought I could find a way to my Grandma, but I was rejected when I said I was going. I found the light at the tunnel, and my mom blocked it off because she’s the adult.. “The kid that has been living longer than me”.