Letter to no one and everyone

Hi, my name is Angelica Cuenca. I’m 17years old and I’ve been living with depression for about 6 years now. It’s started after I lost my best friend which is my mom from cancer. I stop believing in God because he was supposed to be the good but he took someone that I loved the most, someone that I could talk to no matter what. A week or so my sisters and I went to live with my mom’s parents which are my grandparents. I never wanted to lived with them but I had no choice my father was not fit to take care of us and himself. By the 6th grade a boy showed me how to burn myself with a eraser, so in other words I would harm myself but it was the only way for me to get the pain out. I stop trusting people, I stop opening up to people, I just closed myself off. By the 7th grade i could no longer feel better by burning myself so I would break my razors and use that to cut myself just so I could see the blood run down my arm. It hurt, but the pain wasn’t so bad. I would regret it by the next day but that didn’t stop me from doing it again. My grandparents found out saw the scars on my arms and with that they made my sisters and I go talk to someone every other Saturday. Being the little brat I am, I never said anything. They would ask me questions but I was silence the whole time. My grandparents and sisters would find me in my restroom hurting myself my grandma would always say she was going to call people to take me away. I was scared, hurting myself was the only way out of the pain I was going through. My older sister would say she would never let anyone take me, I cried even more cause I knew the pain I was causing them, I put them through a lot of shit but that still didn’t stop me. I did get better but that only lasted a year. My sophomore year I was so stressed with sports, homework, stuff going on at home, everything. Mu breaking point happened after I had a volleyball game things didn’t go to well. So when I got home I told my grandma I wasn’t hungry, and I went straight to my bathroom, I was texting one of my close friend telling her I can’t do this anymore that I’m don’t with all the bullshit, she knew what I was doing all my friends know about my cutting. Turned out her mom had called my grandma telling her what I was doing. Everyone in my family ran to my room, my old sister was the one to see the blood first, and I guess my grandma had enough with it. My grandma and old sister took me to a children’s hospital where they later took me to a mental hospital to help me with the cutting. I knew I needed help, I was just to scared to ever ask for it. Scared on what people would think of me. I shouldn’t have cared but I did. I was in the hospital for about 4 days cause the doctor thought I was okay and doing better, well I guess that’s not true. When I got back to school I lost some friends but that made me look at things differently maybe they won’t really my friends to began with. Junior year, I was up to 160 days without cutting, but that all went down hill I’m not sure what cause it. I guess I was just tired of things, or maybe the Beth of my grandpa finally caught up to me. My grandpa ended getting sick, when I wasn’t at school in the summer I would help my grandma out because it got to a point where my grandpa couldn’t do anything by himself. He dead three days after my birthday, people say it’s good think to be there when they past but really it’s not I can’t even step into my grandma’s room because that’s where he died at. I can’t even sit on a certain spot on the couch because he would sit there. I miss him, my dad was never really in my life, so my grandpa was like my father always there when I needed him. I cut myself again last night (December 8, 2015) everything is just coming back to me mainly the stress I can’t take it, I’m ready to just let go, I’m ready for death to just take me. Fuck everyone that says they are there for me or that say people care for you because I don’t care anymore I just want everything to be over with.