Dedication: I want to dedicate this story to my dad because he has been helping me and he was the first one to tell me I am normal.
Trigger warning: Before reading this post, please be aware that it contains references to sexual assault, suicide and other forms of self-harm.
Recently this whole COVID-19 pandemic has triggered my PTSD. I can’t sleep at night and it’s been hard. I guess I’m here to share what my past did to me. I need to get it off my chest. I guess it is not only my past but present too. Let’s say my life is messed up in some people’s eyes. I am looked at like a freak. I have been abused by my family and in a dating relationship. I have been sexually assaulted by my brother and teacher. I have taken drugs and drank alcohol before to block out my pain. Let me tell you that stuff only made it worse. I have attempted suicide twice.once when I was in forth grade and the second two years ago. Year of 2018. I am fifteen now. I took pills and almost died of liver failure. I went to the hospital. Soon after I went to xxxx Care. When I came back I was fine. I soon started to cut. Not those chicken scratches. Full on cuts that left scares for me to look back on the mistakes I’ve done. I never thought I could trust people again so I only have two not very close friends. No best friends that you would spill your heart out. I met a boy though. We have been talking. I want to tell him my pain and about my past. I haven’t talked to him in awhile because I have no energy to keep a conversation while my past has caught to me in our race. I want to tell him my life and tell him how I feel. I fear if I tell him anything or if he see my scares he will not want to see or talk to me ever again. I have no friends I can run or talk to about this problem. I just want to be a normal girl who can smile with out a mask. Who can laugh without crying. Who can look at things without it being a trigger. I have lots of mental illnesses, that are diagnosed by a doctor, and I don’t know how to live with them. I fear them. I have tried to embrace them and show them proudly but deep down I hide the really painful ones. I don’t know what to do. No sleep. No friends. Can’t talk to a boy I like. Can’t think. No good dreams. Only wants to scream, cry, bleed, and become lost. I’m a freaking crazy person. I know I’m not crazy but when people tell you that you start to believe them. I want to scream at everyone saying “I AM NOT CRAZY! I AM NORMAL! I AM HUMAN DONT TREAT ME ANY DIFFERENTLY!”