chapter 2 -trying to be strong but failing

When i tried to be strong and tell the truth  , it came bk times three i felt like i was alone and that was it for me. I got tired of it all  so i came to tell my grandma which was fathers mom and didnt get the guts to at first. my oldest brother who is severely  autistic came up to me and to my suprising , he knew something was wrong that something was troubling me . My oldest brother ended up being the first person i opened up to , he told me something i didnt know which had made me feel less alone sorta , that he had the same happen to him before. and i hugged him and cried and he said if i didnt speak up then it would keep happening . So i took a deep breath with my cried looking face and stepped forward to my grandmas door and knocked. She answered and asked immediately what was wrong , i hesitated but finally got it out. she went into a xisbleief shop and called my dad and mom . i told my mom and my father covered it up with a story saying i saw his friend with that guys neice in the shower with him , just to cover himself and it worked at that moment . i went into a sort of rage , not only did everyone except my older brother thought i was crazy , but a liar. i went ti my eyes and sobbed then came to the dining room table and tried to choke myself infront of my brothers i though i could at least try and die with my brothers around me , the ones who truly cared and loved me cuz they ,besides bri from school, were all i had. i thought it would help but they struggled to take ny hands away from my throat . they succeeded and my grandma heard the commotion ig and my oldest brother told her that i was trying to kill myself . i during that few mins ran to my room and started to break glass to a
gash my throat or something but my grandma busted into my room and fought me to stop me , but at that moment i wish she would have stopped cuz to this day i sometimes wish i had succeded, i think it would have saved me from all the long term side affects with what he did to me.next came st vincents stress center here in indiana . but ill wait till chapter 3….

-skypetals96

chapter one- wishing but not knowing

i wish that they taught to children in elementary what right frkm wrong really was. What good touch and bad touch was . When i was 6 my father started hurting me , which built on trust issues later on in my life about who to get close with and who not to get close with. He started fondling me at night and  i couldnt get it , i never heard of this from other girls at school in gossip  that they had the same thing, maybe i was  loco or something i thought. when i was in 5th grade they made us girls goto  i guess you could say that lady learning class every girl goes thru in school 2 to 3 times one way or another and . they told us what rape was and good touch and bad touch was and reporting it and all but i was now  seriously confused. That same year i figured mom and dad werent per say normal , that dad was on heavy drugs and alchol ; for what reason i will never know  why he even got involved with that crap but he made that desicion , not me . But i know from that point on that everything you do or desicion you make has a ripple affect like throwing a peddle in the pond. Anyways  i couldnt figure why me?  Did he think i asked for it when i was 6? I didnt even know abt that stuff  quite yet . But maybe it was a punishment or something . Something that may help you understand why i thought it was a punishment is when it all started when i 6 is the night after i accidentally walked in on my parents “doing it”.  So aside from that it kept happening and happening and then my dad would trade me off with our care taker  that took care of my little brother when he had cancer. i never felt comfortable in my own skin. i didnt know if i should have spoken up sooner or what . I just didnt wanna loose my family , i had noone to talk to . I had a Best friend named Bri Tice . I was jealous , she was so pretty we liked almost everything together , she was the pretty one and i was the ugly girl trying to fit in who woar glasses . I wanted to tell her so bad but didnt want to loose her as my friend and scare her off . So i laughed and talked abt canp rock the movie with her and things during school . Thats part of why i loved school so much, was i felt a sense of safeness from my abusive ,touchy, alcaholic/druggy father. when i turned 12 i contemplated telling and finally comming out abt my abuse , maybe tell bri see if she would understand but i was too scared . I didnt know abt suicide awarness but i heard on social media that cutting would help ease the pain, so i started cutting the back of my leggs with my shaving razors the help ease the pain it was like the blood was a draining and cleasing from my body the filth i was going thru . so i woar jeans all year round and kept it  on the low . I honestly though it would be a remedy. But it was only temporarily , i went thru councling cuz my parents had divorced and all but never spoke up abt what was really depressing me . I Lied to the therapists every visit , i would act cuz thats all i could do to keep things semi normal . Noone knew abt the cutting till the day i came out and told my  oldest brother about the abuse my father and his friend kept doin.   i was sick and  tired of hiding my struggles  and feeling like a toy or rag doll. it was the spring  of my 6th grade year when i came out .But lets save that for the next chapter…

me, myself , and my past my intro

when i was 6 things were difficult my father hurt me my mom and my oldest brother i as a  child didnt know what to do, i wish i new what they taught in school about what is good and what is bad for someone to treat you or do to you. i feel like if i new these it wouldnt have lasted till 13 when i tried ending my life because when i spoke up noone believed me . that was all i needed at first , was just for someone to believe and care. maybe if it werent for my brother speaking up i wouldnt still be here typing this blog. but this is just the first . keep in mind thru these blogs it will piece together why therapist and doctors put these labels of bipolar 1 disorder , mania, depression, anxiety, insomnia, PTSD , and adhd  to my hospital records ; as well on me . but constantly each day i deal with these and i hate dealing with these  and i know its not a superficial physical disease or nothing but trust me mental it affects me physically. well world here it goes.my story , the real me ….