Before 2003, my life was ideal. My parents loved me, loved each other, loved my sister. I loved me, I loved my parents, I loved my sister. I didn’t have a care in the world. I thought my life was bad back then, but now, I would give anything to get it back. Because shortly after my fifth birthday, everything turned to shit.
My parents got divorced out of no were. My and my sister has no warning, but of course we didn’t; we were four and five years old! It wasn’t really the divorce that made me so distraught, but what happened to my mother during that time. My mother was very, very depressed. She had been struggling with it for years, but she always seemed happy around us and my dad. Apparently her depression was a factor in the divorce, but I don’t really know. Anyway, my mother tried to kill herself. She was in the hospital for a very long time, and when she got out, she moved to New York with her parents. I barely got to see her, so for the better part of two years, she was absent form my life. It was terrible.
When she came back, I was eight. A lot had happened with my dad. He met a new woman almost immediately, which pissed me off that he could move on so fast. They were engaged by the time my mother came back. Her name was Amy. After they got married, they had to kids; a girl named Molly, when I was  nine, and a boy named Frankie when I was eleven. They are amazing and cute little kids, and I love them more than anything.
During this time, there were things going on with me that I never told anybody. I’ve always been told by people that I was very pretty. When I was younger, I didn’t care. It was just a nice compliment. As I got to be around eight or nine, it started to go beyond just a harmless compliment. Men would try to touch me. Men that came to our house, men that were colleagues of my father. They never did succeed, but it still scarred me. I didn’t feel beautiful anymore, and I still hate myself.
The only time it got serious was with my sixth grade English teacher. I was eleven years old, fresh-faced, and excited to start middle school. At first I was happy to have Mr. Montanaro; a lot of people said he was great. And it was for the first few weeks. But then he started to subtly flirt with me. I thought nothing of it, but looking back now, it was fucked up. Then he would touch me. He would always try to grab my ass or my boobs. And pretty soon he told me he loved me. He wanted me to have sex with him. I refused, and he tried to punch me in the face but I ran away. That night, I went home and I cut myself up. That was my first real experience with self harming and suicidal thoughts. That was in January. He kept trying until the end of the year.
Seventh grade was a better year; I Â made some really good friends, and had great teachers and was doing well in my studies. My I always saw Mr. Montanaro in the hallway. He would try to “make conversation” but I would always get away. People never new why I was so unnerved by him. I was ashamed of what happened.
Eighth grade was when it really fell apart. Eighth grade was when I realized that I was in love with my best friend. Her name is Karly. Karly liked me as well. I went out of my way to try to get her to ask me out, but she would never pick up my clues. Pretty soon, I was doing terrible things to try to gain her attention. It was despicable. But in April, she asked me out.
It was bad timing. In April, the anorexic thoughts started. In April, I started cutting again. In April, I was still craving attention and lying to people. In April, my father was cheating on Amy. And by May, I had been properly diagnosed with clinical depression and  anxiety. I got really bad separation anxiety when Karly wasn’t in school, which was very often. As for depression, I would cry every day and lie awake at night crying. It was awful.
In June, Amy found out about my dad cheating. She filed for divorce. She said she was going to stay in Rhode Island with Molly and Frankie, to still be part of our lives. She said she probably wouldn’t move until October. She lied. She moved in August to Denver, Colorado, with Molly and Frankie. My fathers new girlfriend is moving in soon.
Karly broke up with me in late July. We were both going through things, and it wasn’t a good time, but she broke my heart. I never showed it though. We still wanted to keep our friendship which was really important to me.
Later in the summer, I felt better. I was starting to get over anorexia, depression, anxiety, and I was excited for high school. However, shortly into my year, I realized that I was still in love with Karly. In truth, Karly toyed with my emotions. She never kept her promises, and she knew she was hurting me. She would apologize, but it really messed me up.
I was cutting again. I was starving myself again. I was lying again. I didn’t think anything of it. But it’s late October now, and I am 95 pounds. I crave attention. I stopped Karly form dating someone else, due to an outburst about it. I am hurting everyone around me that want me to get better, because at this point, I don’t want to get better. I just want to die.
Everything-my mom an dads divorce, Â my absent mother, the twisted love men showed me, Mr. Montanaro, cutting, anorexia, depression, anxiety, lying, Â attention, Karly, Amy-everything is just piling up on me. And I don’t feel that I am made to survive this. I don’t deserve to live. I want to kill myself. More than anything I just want this to end.