Idk, the bad things i guess

Trigger Warning, just to be safe.

Okay, I guess I'm just gonna kinda say everything. I'm sorry if I am not super coherent.

I was sexually abused by my father when I was little. I don't know for sure when it started. The first time he did anything remotely innappropriate I was 3, so I guess I've always thought of that as the start. I remember knowing something was kind of wrong but having this feeling that I shouldnt tell anyone. I remember when I was little my parents put those green icky face stickers on all the chemicals. One day I was exploring and I found something with one of those stickers. My mother was near by and told me that the stickers meant that they would make me really really sick, maybe even dead. I was curious and that night I snuck down to take a sip, it was really gross tasting so I turned to the pill bottles with the stckers. I swallowed them, wanting whatever 'death' was. When I was in second grade my fathers abuse turned to rape and sexual assault. I created a whole separate life for myself, the opposite from my rich, private school and happy laughing family. I went to the darkest corners, men did things to me, I was a spitfire who would try anything so people gave me drugs. I started completely having two mes. Happy me and Real me. I eventually had more attempted OD's, actually knowing what they were now. I started cutting. When I was 11 a friend of Real me taught me a way to get money, what I now know was prostitution. I was so ashamed because my body liked what my dad was doing to me. When I turned 13 I jumped off a small cliff on a school camping trip. I was fine, other than a sprained ankle and a bad concussion. I developed a severe eating disorder and later that year my heart almost stopped. I was admitted to the hosptal with a heart rate in the 30s and acute kidney injury. I was started on a refeeding program to do at home. The combination of my malnutrition and concussion caused me excruciating pain in my extremeties. They were purple and swollen. I was depressed, in a wheel chair, not going to school and being re fed. But, since my hospital stay the abuse had stopped. I was re admitted because I kept losing weight and they put me on a crap ton of meds. I had a psychotic episode where I woke up and didnt know where i was. I was admitted to psych and I eventually got my NG tube out and my pain stopped. I told the police and CPS about my abuse but they didnt believe me. I was moved around to three psych hospitals over the course of a year. I healed, I met supportive people, I dealt with my dysthymia, generalized anxiety disorder, PTSD, panic disorder, and anorexia. I was discharged and I now live with my lovely mother who, although she doesnt believe me, loves me. I am 15 and will have to move in with my dad and live with him until I'm 18.