Past Is Eating Me Alive

I still remember as a 4 year old girl standing in the mirror. I sucked in my stomach, and placed my hand there. I kept wondering how great it would feel to be like that. My father is the one to make me like that. Living with my father was hell, when he would come home my brothers and I hid somewhere, we knew he was drunk or high. Eventually he would find one of us, and abuse us. I was placed in boxing so I could defend myself, he would have me run miles and miles, if I puked he made me keep going. He over worked me, he killed me. He made me throw up at 5 years old because 40 pounds was “over weight.” He called me ugly, worthless, fat, stupid, and a disgrace as his child. I couldn’t take it anymore at the age of 6, I began to cut myself, I was in depression, I was anorexia. It kept going until 6th grade hit, we got away from my father, but I was in depression. I stopped being anorexia, but I got fat. I wouldn’t speak to anyone, I never smiled, I never laughed, I was not like most 6th grade girls. Finally the summer hit and I realized it was time to make a change. I starved myself, and worked out all the time. I went from 150 pounds to 90 pounds. I was suicidal and I still cut. Today I lost even more weight, I am 16 years old and I weigh 95 pounds. I am bulimia, and I still cut. People tell me I am beautiful, but in the inside I still remember being bullied in school, and at home. Their voices haunt me every night  I keep debating if I should just walk in my closet and hang myself, maybe shoot myself, or just overdose on pills. My family is what is keeping me strong, but I just can’t take it still. My past is eating me alive, it is haunting me, it is making me want to do things I shouldn’t be doing, I should be having fun but instead I keep hiding depression.