There’s been a lot of suicides lately in my town. It brings back my own depression and having no one there to vent to, I am now turning to this site to let my frustation out. I’ve been lurking and I now feel strong enough to finally let everything out. I don’t think I’ve ever told my whole story, from birth to present times, in one sitting. So here I am, this is me, and this is my story.
My mother had troubleÂ conceiving and after a miscarriage, I was born. I was her pride and joy. She wanted me to be perfect, like her; straight A’s, good behavior, etc. My dad on the other hand only wanted to see happiness. I was their one and only. They wanted me to be a better version of them and it took them years until they finally admitted the fact that I was only all their faults put together.
I was thrown into church and when I was three, began attending the church’s school. I had the best years of my life there, until I entered second grade. My mother’s best friend passed away from lung cancer. It destroyed her and I never understood her pain whenever I would hear her bawling from the other room. A month later, the day after Christmas, my parentsÂ announcedÂ that they were getting a divorce. I blamed it on my mom. I began to resent her; we argued all the time and every night resulted in tears. She began dating not even two months after the divorce. Her boyfriends were always ugly to me. They’d yell and get in my face. I remember one of her ex’s dog’s dragging me around the house by my shirt as he laughed. I was crying, bleeding, screaming, but no one heard me. My mom began mimicking his behavior, but actually gettingÂ psychicalÂ with me. She’d slap me, bite me, do anything she could to hurt me in some way. To her, I was a slut, ugly, a failure, etc. My mom was also anÂ alcoholic.
My best friend growing up was my mother’s mother. Â I never understood how serious Alzheimer’sÂ was until she punched me square in the face. I didn’t know I had lost her forever and I can’t explain how hurt I was when I went to visit her, only to have her ask who I was. The countless times I was dragged by my hair, clawed at, thrown – after all that, I still loved her. I’ll never stop.
Around this time, I went to visit my cousins. I had a male cousin, a year younger than me, who I was very close with. He pulled me into a closet, asking if he could show me this handshake him and his girlfriend did with each other. I was only around seven or eight. He touched his private to mine, not intercourse, but enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I didn’t know what it meant or why I felt guilty. A few years later, sex seemed to be what everyone was talking about. I claimed to having sex with him, because that’s honestly what I thought it was. My friend spread it around until the point the police got involved. I was almost taken away from my parents if it weren’t for my lying. I blamed it on her, saying she misheard me. I was so full of hate, I often had outbursts in the middle of class. If you’ve ever read the Bible, you’d know that if someone did something sinful/wrong, they’d stone them. The playground at our school had stones, which all the kids would throw at me since I was ‘possessed.’ Before the school year ended, the rocks had been replaced with mulch.
My parent’s took me out of that school and enrolled me in a different private school for fifth grade. That year was fine, but once I entered my first year of middle school, that’s when everything started to matter. If you wanted friends, you had to be thin, pretty, and wear all the latest trends. I tried to keep up, Â but my mom didn’t have a lot of money and I felt awkward asking my dad. I had one friend, while the rest spent their time making fun of me. I had asked why they didn’t want to be my friend, and they simply replied with “you’re not pretty enough.” I guess that’s where I got my awful selfÂ esteemÂ from.
Seventh grade, I had managed to make friends with one of the popular girls. Things seemed to be falling into place. I started going to the school’s youth group, which is where I met the first boy I ever liked. He was a drug dealer, Â a year older than me, and nothing but trouble. You could say that’s why I was attracted to him and after months of obsessing over the kid, he finally asked me out. It only took two days before he sexuallyÂ harassedÂ me and cheated on me, but I didn’t leave. Instead, I picked up a knife for the first time and cut. My mom found out, as did the school. I was once again, bullied and sent toÂ counseling. He never kissed me, never held my hand, and talked about other girls to my face. I cheated on him with my best friend, because he actually made me feel wanted. What I did was wrong, but I was so young and didn’t know anything.
Eighth grade, I ran away from my mother’s house. I guess after realizing what she had done, she called up my dad to come find me. Which is exactly what he did; I was walking from her house to his in the middle of the night. That year, I dated a new guy for a year and a half. Things were rocky at first – my cutting got to a whole new level and I developed an eating disorder. However overtime, things worked themselves out. I felt something so strong for him while he pushed me away, but when he finally gave in, that’s when my flame went out. We tried working things out after our break up, but I had moved onto someone new.
Despite what anyone says, I know for certain that I loved (and still love) this guy with all my heart. I was innocent. I had never drank, smoked, or done anything sexual. He had done it all. Even though my first boyfriend was a drug dealer, I was never around it. With this guy, I was. A month into our relationship, he moved to Florida. We continued dating and he was planning on visiting that summer. While he was away, I got drunk for the first time. I remember the night perfectly and I still to this day don’t understand why I lied to him. I told him I had cheated, when I never had. I’m almost certain that night changed our relationship forever, but he still came a month later. He was my first for almost everything, except intercourse. We were together for eight months before he returned home and we called it off. At the end of our relationship, I discovered he had cheated on me with over five different girls and actually at one point, had another girlfriend.
I tried to move on, but I was stuck in such a deep depression. I transfered to public school. Things weren’t much different, but I was popular for the first time. Even though my ex had cheated on me withÂ multipleÂ girls, we were trying to work things out once again. I had bought a plane ticket to go see him inÂ December. I wasÂ completelyÂ broken, but I tried to move on. I tried to grow from all these things happening to me. In earlyÂ November, I was raped. It took me awhile to confess this to him for fear of rejection, but before my visit, I did. He completely kicked me out of his life. I never did go to Florida thatÂ December, but spent my time cutting, drinking to the point of throwing up every night, and thinking of different ways to kill myself. My virginity was taken from me in the blink of an eye as well as the love of my life. Out of all the times I’ve self harmed, the cuts after my rape were the worst. I do believe they neededÂ stitches, but I never told anyone. They left wide, raised scars all over my arms and legs. I feel soÂ insecureÂ and ugly when I wear shorts or a short sleeved shirt. My eating disorders came back. I only ate before I drank, but it would just end up coming up at the end of the night anyways. I had sex with two guys while under the influence. I don’t remember it, but it happened.
I continued drinking heavily, drinking everyday, until I hit rock bottom. Things work out in funny ways. I ended up in a mental hospital for some time. When I came out, I felt worse, but I wasn’t drinking. It took two weeks before IÂ relapsed. I remember getting caught one night and for some reason my mom was over. All that anger came out and I was the abuser for once. I finally stood up to her. My drinking was beginning to return to normal, but I met yet another boy. I changed for him. I quit drinking, I was a much happier person, and I ended up letting him be the first person to sleep with me sober. It was hard for me, because all I knew was being raped. This guy was amazing and I really thought we would be together for years, but when his best friendÂ committedÂ suicide, I lost him. When his friend left him, he left me, and the happier version of me went with him.
I don’t have the heart to tell him that my period’s late, either.
Things right now are constant roller coaster, but I’m pushing on. I’ve gone back to drinking again and I’ve cut myself here and there, but I am trying. I’m dedicating myself to work, family, and friends.Â EliminatingÂ the negatives and focusing on theÂ positives. Life is what you make it. I don’t want to look back on life and realize that I wasted away my days. Although I wrote about all the negatives in my life, there are plenty of good points in my life as well.
I don’t know who will read this, or if anyone even will, but thanks. Just thanks for living. If you’re reading this, you may not be happy, but you’re alive. You’re breathing. You’re here on this earth. I’m still fighting and for me, please, keep fighting too.