Trigger warning: Before reading this post, please be aware that it includes references to childhood sexual abuse.
My life was a living hell, and I mean literally. At the age of one, I lost my innocence because my biological father sexually abused me, and at the age of three, I got my first babysitter. She also sexually abused me. By the age of five, I was out of their grasps and free, or so I thought. My second babysitter’s youngest son also decided that I was apparently too appealing as a kid, and he sexually abused me as well. At the age of five, I questioned my reason for living. In July of that year, my mother married a man. Luckily, this man was not my biological father, for those two never married. However, this new man did not want to have me as part of his life. In fact, at the age of eight, I had to show up to school the day after my new dad told me that I’d wake up at the doors of hell. Around that time, my school closed down, and I had to switch schools. I was only in third grade! All of my former best friends started to make new ones and ignore me while I sat alone at recess trying to get a game of tether ball started. Then, I finally met a new friend, and she was amazing. She made me feel as if I had a reason to live for. However, as third grade ended, so did our friendship because she had to move to another state. Then, in fourth grade, my other best friend got adopted, I was happy for him, but at the same time, I felt sad. My only hopes and reasons for living moved away from me, and I felt like I was on shaky ground. Then, the bullying started. At this time, I had a massive over-bite, and the other kids started to decide that I looked too funny. They started to call me monster, I turned the corner on my first day of fifth grade and heard the popular kids shouting, “Monster!” They would imitate my over-bite and then walk away. Of course I was seeing someone for my mental stability. When we were going to go finally move to middle school, I was exciteted, but then everyone found out about my doctor. They constantly asked me if I was stable enough to be at school or if I should be institutionalized. I would show up at school with slash marks on my arms or legs, and everyone believed me when I said that they were from the fence when I was mowing late at night. Finally, high school came. With high school came stress, activities, and more bullies. Freshman year was okay, I guess, and Sophomore year was too, at least until the end of the year. It was the year that the choir went to New York City. A freshman said that she was stuck with the worst person in the world, me. One person stood up for me, and I spent the rest of the day in tears. When we arrived in New York, one of my other roommates got into a fight with her, and when the teachers came to see what was going on, they threatened all thee of us because I was blamed for their fight. Finally, we reach this year, Junior year, the same girl who called me the worst in the world has been trying to control my life, and she has been telling me that I’m not as good as she is. Yes, I’ve tried to take my life, I’ve tried since fifth grade, but I’m starting to realize that in order to let myself not be ruled by others, I have to rule myself first. Hence, I am sharing my story with you, so I can begin my healing and cleansing process.