3 years later

when i was 12, my step dad started molesting me. he kept telling me it was normal, and not to tell my mom, or anyone else. i stayed silent because he guilt tripped me into thinking that i was the problem, and that if i did speak, my siblings would be taken away. i would rather die than have my siblings go through something like that. a year into the touching, kissing and inappropriate , discussions, i ended up telling my in school mentor, who called CAS and they visited us that weekend. I was 13 at this time, and terrified. when the CAS worker showed up, my step dad and mom begged me to lie and once again guilt tripped me about my siblings. so i lied to the CAS worker, and soon, she went away and we werent bothered. It just kept getting worse as another year went on. at 13, i started to self harm and close myself off from friends and family, locking myself in my room. he wouldnt stop. multiple times, i was almost raped multiple times while i was sleeping, thankfully, i woke up everytime he was close to doing anything. at 14, i overdosed on my anti-depressants and died for 3 minutes before my brain and heart decided to keep going, for god only knows why. i spent a week in the mental hospital, and not even then did i tell anyone about what had been going on. it was for multiple reasons really. i was embarassed of myself. i was scared of my step dad, and my mom, and i was scared of going to court and all of that. at 15, i attempted suicide twice. once by overdose again, and a second time by cutting very deep into my thigh, almost cutting the artery. i was hospitalized for the first attempt of that year for a good 2 weeks. On Nov 27, the day of the second attempt of suicide for that year, was hospitalized, and ended up finally cracking and telling my doctors about what had been happening with my dad. That day was Nov 30. Nov 30 was also the day that my step dad commited suicide by hanging himself in my old housew garage. my mom didnt find his body until Dec 3. I was in shreds when i heard about his death. i still, and always will feel like it is my fault. the weird thing is, i should hate him. but he raised me as his own since i was 2. it was hard to love and hate him at the same time, i hate the way he acted towards me, but i love the old dad that i knew. after hearing the news, i went completely numb. everything around me felt like it was in slow motion. i was in pain, but a part of me will always feel like this happened for a good reason, because my siblings are safe, and so am i. right now, hes been gone for 7 months. 3 weeks ago, i overdosed and died again, but i came back, like i always do. i wish i could believe that i am supposed to be here for a reason, but holy fuck i just wish i could be successful. as of now, i have a boyfriend, 2 bestfriends, 4 cats and a semi happy life. everything is weird for me. i hate my body, i hate physical contact, and i hate people who ride bikes because it reminds me of my dad.
right now, at this moment though, i am able to feel peace, atleast. not exactly forgivness, but there will come a day. i just need to keep telling myself that i survived three years, and i can survive more