Life story. It's time to move on.

So let me just say my life had been rough and will trigger some people. I hope that sharing my story will help me move along with my life and maybe even help or inspire someone to get help or move in a positive direction. So here I go...

First thing that needs to be said is, my mother is bipolar. She takes her medication when she wants to. She was officially diagnosed when I was 7 or 8 years old. My mother was never stable and never really cared for me. The main reason being that I was born hearing impaired. I have slight hearing loss that requires me to wear hearing aids. Doctors discovered this when I was about 3 years old.

So on top of my mother being bipolar, me being hearing impaired, I was constantly being bullied at school. I had no friends in elementary school. I would swing by myself on the playground or lay in the grass watching the clouds.

When I was 9 my aunt, whom was very close to me, was diagnosed with melanoma(skin cancer). She fought hard for 9 months before catching pneumonia and passing away. The same week she was diagnosed, my grandmother, her mother, was diagnosed 28th breast cancer. She fought her cancer and won. After my aunt passed away, I became more isolated, more depressed. I turned to cutting. At this point I also stopped eating. No one noticed anything wrong or different about me.

When I turned 12 years old my mother started kicking me out. I would end up sleeping at a classmate's house or in the woods nearby. She also forced me to pay for my own food, clothes, and other necessities. My father never stood up to my mother. He didn't want to be kicked out too. My younger sister was my mom's favorite. She could do no wrong.

This continued for a long time. When I was 13 years old, I got my first boyfriend. He was 16 almost 17 at the time. He made me feel beautiful and loved. As time passed he began to become verbally abusive, then physically abusive. I thought this was what couple's do when they fight. I thought it was normal. Time passed and I stayed. My 14th birthday passed and summer came. School was about to begin up again and football games started. My boyfriend and I went to a football game. He and his two best friends got drunk. He was being very touchy which made me uncomfortable. I told him to stop and when he wouldn't I started walking to head home. He and his friends pushed me to the ground and the three of them raped me. They stole my virginity and shattered me. I kept that a secret for almost 6 months.

The night before I spoke of my rape I had cut my arms and legs so bad that it was hard to hide. It was too painful to cover them. I tried my best but my history teacher pulled me out of class. He asked me if I was okay and what was bothering me. I couldn't keep it a secret anymore. I just rolled up my sleeves and cried. He hugged me, walked me to the nurse's office to be cleaned up, then to the guidance office. He stayed with me the entire time until my mom came to take me to the hospital to be evaluated. I filed a report to the police, was kept over night at the hospital for observation, and was refered to a psychologist and therapist.

After a few days of getting me situated with doctors and therapists my mother kicked me out. I ended up walking to a park nearby. My boyfriend pulled up with his 2 friends when I was at the park, and beat me. I do not remember much but I was told an off duty officer restrained them and saved my life. They broke 7 ribs, my right wrist, arm, and left collarbone. I had a severe concussion and was in a coma for 3 days before waking up.

From then on I was constantly in and out of inpatient hospitals, constantly being put on different prescriptions with no luck. I did not want help. I just wanted to die. On my 16th birthday I overdosed on as many pills as I could find. My sister found me and called for help.

After I was released, I met someone. He treated me so well. We dates for almost a year. I finally had enough strength and courage to have sex with him. A month later I found out I was pregnant. He left me when I told him. I wanted to die so badly. I thought he loved me. I thought that even if we didn't last that he would still be a father to our daughter. I was wrong. I promised myself that I would stop cutting, start eating healthy again, and try to do my best. I was a senior in high school. Only 17 years old and pregnant. My family were disgusted by me except my grandmother. She stayed by my side through it all. I decided to put her up for adoption, had the family picked out and everything, but when I finally met my daughter, I couldn't let her go. I kept her. I named her Madelynn. I graduated high school with a 3.9 GPA, worked, and got a full time scholarship to a community college. I attended for a short period of time but my mother kept kicking me out. She would let my daughter stay at home but would not allow me to stay at night. I had to drop out to try and make enough money for my own place.

My friend, Christopher was letting me stay with him. We eventually became more than friends. We picked up my daughter and left. We moved 14 hours away to be closer to his mom and to have a better opportunity in life. He proposed to me a year and half later, I got pregnant and we had a son. I have been dealing with postpartum depression since I have birth to him. As if that was not enough 2 months after he was born, my fiance was diagnosed with stage 4 tongue and throat cancer. He has been doing chemo and has 3 more rounds left and then starts 6 rounds of radiation. He is slowly improving but watching him be this sick and weak and not being able to eat has been killing me. I have not gotten treatment for my depression and I don't know when I will be able to due to all of his appointments and caring for the kids. I have been cut free for 5 years now and I feel like I might relapse soon. I hope not. I hope that this help alleviate some of the emotions built up.