A friend asked me to post the story of my life, and after years and years of hiding away I think it’s time to open up.
I grew up in a small town, and like any other kid, I went to the elementary school there. I’m not sure what I did wrong, but the people didn’t seem to like me. I have eczema, and to me that’s nothing new, or different. The kids in that school didn’t think so. I was gross, contagious, and you should stay away from me. Eventually, we moved away. As a seven year old girl I went to a new school, hoping for a fresh start. But that didn’t happen, I was still gross, and nobody would come near me. After a difficult year, some girls seemed to like me. I finally had friends. But then it turned around again. Groups of kids would literally chase me down during recess. ‘Slut! Slut! Slut!’ I can still hear their voices echo in my head. It was my last year there, and when I went to middle school I thought I could start fresh again. Nope, another dream died. I was so insecure about my entire self that I thought it was best to just stay quiet. I did eventually make friends, but they weren’t good for me. As a 14 year old, I fell into a world where smoking, drugs and sexual abuse were normal. I was anorexic, depressed and mentally weak. This boy gave me attention. He was 17, I was 14. He invited me to his house, ‘It’s gonna be fun!’ he said. Thinking back to this makes me sick. I feel like I am the one to blame. He made me feel special, but he didn’t have good intentions at all. I got up to his house, thinking we’d just hang out for a while. That didn’t happen. He took me to his room and started getting close. He’d tuck on my clothes and pull away my bra straps. His hands started moving around. I told him to stop, but he shushed me. ‘shhh, we’re just having some fun. Don’t you want to be loved?’ he did that all the time. Making me feel bad for not wanting something. I didn’t say no, but I didn’t say yes either. I tried pushing his hands away but he was stronger than me. Things happened. After that I slipped even further into my depression. I pushed the memory of what he did to me away and lived a decent life. Years later, I’m still depressed and suicidal but I recovered from my anorexia. We went on our annual holiday. I was 17 and this man, who’s gone with us on holidays for years started getting creepy. He’d stare at me, or ‘accidentally’ touch my hand, arm or thigh. He freaked me out, but the worst part is yet to come. I was on our hotel room, peeing. The bathrooms had a slide door, that you couldn’t lock. My room was on the end of the hallway on the second floor. He had his room on the first floor, in the middle of the hallway. He came in. Opened the bathroom door and just stared at me. Keep in mind, I’m 17 years old, peeing, and this man is well into his 40s if not 50s and just comes in and stares at me. ‘oh.. sorry.. Wrong room..’ he mumbles, while still looking at me. Me, being the polite fuck I am, says: ‘Oh no worries, could you please get out?’ Slowly he turns around and get out. I felt weird after that. He didn’t touch me. He just looked at me, half naked on a toilet. He didn’t just walk into the wrong room. The entire happening of what happened earlier to me came back to me. I cried. My dad got angry with me for not coming out of the room. After that I tried to kill myself. I took some pills and passed out, but my mom found me. I was rushed to the hospital and had my stomach pumped. After that I was put into a facility. No access to internet, no contact with the outside world. Just me and a few other depressed kids in a building with locked doors. The first few weeks were hard, I missed my boyfriend. I did well, I was allowed weekly visits. Little by little I got better. I learned to talk about what happened. After one and a half year I got out. I’m still being monitored but I’m getting better. My therapist in the facility told me something beautiful; ‘I’m glad you exist.’ So to all the people struggling with themselves, I’m glad you exist.