(January 14, 2011)
Okay, so when I was younger life was alright.
My parents are really different from each other.They both have different religions, but they are both VERY religious. I remember when I was younger, they both were fighting over which church my sister and I should go to.
They would get into big fights, I remember one day when my sister and I were really little and our uncles were living with us, they told us to go into a different room, because our parents were arguing. I remember walking slowly to the room, I wanted to see what was going on. Then I saw my dad slap my mom, she was crying telling him to stop and he didn’t. He was so upset I don’t really remember exactly why he was so mad, but he was. He took our table and threw it out the door into the backyard. It was so bad, the neighbors called the police and they took my dad away for a little bit. No one ever told me what happened, but he was back home when I woke up in the morning. My parents ended up going to counseling to work their problems out.
I was always kind of slow in school when I was younger. Well, in math I was.
There was this one day my dad was helping me with my math, I didn’t really understand and my dad kept trying to explain to me how the problem went. I still didn’t get it and he was starting to get really frustrated, he ended up hitting me. I was crying, but trying to understand what he was teaching me. I just didn’t understand, and he hit me again. He kept telling my I’m stupid, and I don’t know anything. I remember there was one time he really started to get mad at me, and he dragged me up the stairs. I think it was because he was calling me to go upstairs, but I didn’t hear. He got mad and dragged me up the stairs by my hair. After all this, it was hard for me to talk to my dad. I hated him for ever hitting me or my mom. My mom suggested that I go to therapy to hopefully fix things for me because I was so young when all this happened. After that, uhm well I went to a christian private school, it was all good. I had a lot of friends and school everything was just good. Then in second grade, the teacher was really mean to me and a lot of her students, she would yell at me in my face. She called my stupid and I’ll never be able to do anything in my life. This was only in second grade, so when I got home I was just crying my eyes out. My parents told the school and she got fired. My parents didn’t want me to be dealing with that and going back to that school, so they transfered me to a public school in the middle of second grade. It was great, I met new people and my best friend, Christiana too :)
Elementary school was good, I didn’t have very many problems with it.
When I was in fourth grade, my little cousin, Lauren who was only 4 at the time, was sick. They found a tumor in her brain. She was in a coma at the hospital for about a month and a half. She ended up passing away in there on Thanksgiving. It really hurt our whole family, because she was so young no one ever thought she would pass.
In middle school, things started out good. I got my first “boyfriend” and made a lot of new friends. My boyfriend and I were only together for maybe a month then we broke up because I got braces. He said I scared him, basically telling my I’m ugly. Later on in 6th grade, for some reason, people would call me a whore or a ho. I have no idea why though, I never did anything wrong or bad back then. I hated 6th grade, and it felt like the whole school was against me. I know there was some drama with the other girl and she had an older brother who was in 8th grade, he got the older kids to talk down to me. He even threatened to hit me himself. He told me to watch my back. I never did anything wrong, and I was always scared to go to school. I would often go home and cry because of all the mean things the other kids would say. Later, my family found out that my Lolo (grandfather) has dialysis and other health problems. My mom wanted us to move and start a better life for me and my two siblings here in Roseville. Also to help out our family here, so we moved from SSF to Roseville. I got here the start of 7th grade, I loved it. New people, new school, new environment, everything. I loved how Roseville it seemed like everyone is just a big family. I never had any problems in 7th grade. Then came 8th grade, things were good then in the middle of the year, there was this new girl. She quickly became one of mine and my group’s really good friend. Later in the year, more towards the end, things started to go bad. When like everyone had MySpace, she hacked mine and put porn all over it. I was friends with almost everyone on there with people who went to my old school and and who go to my new one. Everyone saw it and immediately thought I was a porn addict.
I never looked at or even knew of porn until I saw what she had done to it. Everyone thought I was a porn addict. They called me a whore, a slut, said I was disgusting. All these things. It would hurt me a lot, emotionally. I found out about hurting myself. I would cut my arms almost everyday because of what everyone would say to me. It made me feel like shit. Eventually, people found out that I would cut myself. You would think after finding something out like that, they would stop, but they never did. It just got worse. They would make fun of me because I would cut myself. They would say things like “Oh, you’re so emo. What are you going to do now, cut yourself? Go ahead”
& so many other hurtful things, it just made me do it even more. I hated it. It finally was summer, I got away from everyone for a few months, then came high school.
Freshman year, the best year of high school so far. I met so many new people, it was like a fresh start, not everyone knew about me and I liked it that way. People wouldn’t make fun of me. I ended up having my first real boyfriend my freshman year. I thought he was just an amazing guy, he made me happy and everything. Everything was going good. Then over the spring break I went to Thailand with my family. It was really hard on me, because I wouldn’t be able to see my boyfriend at the time, for like 2 weeks. No communication or anything. When I got back, I found out that he cheated on me. He had sex or uhm, hooked up with I think either one or two other girls. That hurt me so much, I trusted him with everything. Never had any of my past boyfriends cheat on me. If they wanted to be with another girl, they’d just break up with me. He told me he was sorry and that it wouldn’t happen again. & of course, I believed him. Things were going good again, I thought I was in love with this guy. I thought he was everything I ever wanted and more. We lasted almost 9 months in our relationship. Summer going into sophomore year, he broke up with me. I found out it was because he wanted to get with another girl. Well, he cheated on me with her before breaking up with me. He supposedly had sex with her while he was still with me too. I hated him for doing that to me. I seriously thought he was “the one” for me. I trusted him, I gave him my all. But apparently, it wasn’t good enough, because I didn’t want to have sex with him, well, I wasn’t ready for it. He went somewhere else and got it. It really hurt me, and ever since then, I’ve always had trust issues with guys. Sophomore year came around, I was really depressed most of the time. Especially because I still loved him and I saw him and his new girlfriend all over school. I hated it so much, it always hurt me, and I had a class with him, where he sat right in front of me. It was probably the worst year in high school for me. I would cut myself hoping the pain would go away, but it never did. It only got worse, his new girlfriend didn’t like that we were still talking, she threatened to beat me up. & said that I better stop talking to her boyfriend. Of course, we never stopped talking, we ended up just talking without her knowing. She thought we stopped, but we never did. He ended up sending me nudes to my phone. I was stupid and didn’t delete them. My mom eventually took my phone away, and she started to look through my messages. She found the one from him and told me she was going to tell the police and the school about the picture he sent me. After break, she told the school and police. I was begging her not to tell or do anything about it, but she did anyway. It was so bad, he ended up getting suspended. He told me he hated me, and his girlfriend wanted to beat me up. He told me that he was almost wishing that she would beat me up. It hurt, to know that the person you love tell you they hate you. I hated myself because of everything. I started cutting myself again. My mom eventually saw all the cuts on my arms and thighs. She told me that if I didn’t stop hurting myself, or if I didn’t stop talking to him, she would either send me to a mental institute or kick me out. I didn’t want either of those things to happen to me. So I forced myself to stop. It was so hard for me, she took the one thing I thought would help me, away.
Eventually, I started to get better. I started going to church a lot more, even got my friends to go to my youth group. It was amazing, I met so many people. There was this one guy, who I became really close with. We would hangout with the whole group as much as possible. Eventually, he introduced weed to us. We started to smoke pot together almost every time we would hangout, we would smoke. I liked it, a lot. It felt good to me, but unfortunately, we ended up getting caught.
Our pastors ended up finding out about the whole thing and because he was 18 he got in a lot of trouble. So we kind of stopped talking. Later on, my friends and I planned on us all to hangout. I was dumb and decided to see the ex-boyfriend, we ended up doing some things together, I really wish I didn’t do. Especially because we weren’t together, and I found out a short time after that he had a girlfriend. I helped him cheat on his girlfriend a second time, without knowing and I hated myself for that. We even smoked weed together with another one of his friends. After that my friends picked me up, we planned on us drinking together. It was my first time to ever drink alcohol. I’m a really really lightweight. I got so drunk after only taking like 3 or 4 shots of vodka. Stupid me, I went home only about an hour and a half after drinking. My parents questioned me about it the morning after. They were so angry with me, and I lost their trust because of it. Thank god it’s fine now, and they trust me again.
Junior year, I started to give up on finding the right guy. I just left the whole love thing alone. I started talking to a few guys and went out on some dates, but nothing ever turned into anything. Or at least all the guys I dated, I didn’t want it to turn into anything more than just friends. So I left it alone, I felt alone like I would never be able to find anyone for me. I started to slip into my old ways, and went to the ex-boyfriend. I thought I still loved him, we ended up doing things together again. He would always tell me he still loves me, that we would eventually get back together. So I just waited, and waited. I waited for him, for two years. Ever since after we broke up (end of freshman year, going into sophomore year) I held out, wanting him to want me back. So whenever I could I would find ways for us to meet up, I would go to his house, and I made stupid mistakes and did shit with him. I regret it now, A LOT. He of course being him, got a new girlfriend. & I never knew. When I found out, I promised myself I would never let myself fall for him and his lies again. That was the third time I found out he had a girlfriend or got a new one even after we did things together. I stopped talking to him. Sure he would text me every once in awhile, but I kept strong. I gave up and I just let him be. I eventually met an amazing guy, after I said I would just give up on everything. I met my current boyfriend, Ryan. Even if it is a long distance relationship, it means the world to me that he would still want to be with me <3
Over the summer going into senior year, I just felt so big. In my family everyone says I’m getting fat. I used to be so skinny, like a stick. Size 00 xsmall. You know, just really tiny. Ever since high school, I’ve started to gain weight, because I’ve been so depressed back then, I would eat so much food. When I would smoke pot I would just eat and eat. I hated it, and I was getting sick of everyone telling me I’m gaining weight and getting fat. So I stopped eating for weeks. When I did eat, I would make myself throw all of the food up right after the meal. I knew what I was doing wasn’t healthy, but I didn’t care. I wanted to lose weight, I wanted to be perfect. I couldn’t do it after awhile, my mom found out. She made me stop or she’d send me away.
Just a few months ago was the scariest night of my life. My grandmother moved in with us and she has a lot of health problems, she falls over a lot and she’s hard to take care of sometimes. Anyway, she was walking to the bathroom and she fell over. I just remember sitting in my room and hearing a loud smack. She was crying and moaning in pain. My mom ran straight downstairs. My sister and I went down after her, my grandma said she was okay, she just needed to lay down. We set her down and then helped her up because she said she had to go to the bathroom. We went back upstairs thinking everything was going to be okay. My mom went back downstairs to check on her, she was just sitting on the toilet not breathing just sitting there. My mom slapped her to hopefully wake her up, but nothing. She wouldn’t move. She yelled for us to go downstairs. We ran down and my sister helped my mom get my grandma and lay her on the ground. My mom told me to get her some juice because maybe it’s just her sugar was down. I ran to the fridge, my mom is a nurse. So she tried pressing down on her chest to hopefully wake her up. She wouldn’t move, we thought she was dead. I ran to the phone and called the ambulance. The ambulance got to out house about 10-15 minutes later. They somehow woke her up, then took her to the hospital. They told us she was going to be okay. We were all scared, thinking that was going to be her last night. But she’s okay now, we realized we aren’t able to take care of her as good as we thought because both my parents work so much. They decided to send her to a nursing home so she can get stronger. She’s starting to get a little better now.
My mom recently revealed to my sister and I that she was pregnant with me before she got married. The main reason she even married my dad was because of me. Yes she loves my dad, but they have their differences making it harder for them to keep a good marriage. But everything is getting better now. I respect my mom a whole lot more now, because she actually DOES know all the things I’m going through, with boys though.
That was my life. All I want to say is don’t judge people before you really get to know them. When I told my lifestory today in class, a lot of people were surprised. Some even cried for me, because they are/were going through something similar. You never know what the person next to you is going through, if you are just adding more to the stress on their life.The people who talked to me after said they were shocked that I went through all the things I did. They said they never would have even imagined me going through all that. Just because someone seems extremely happy doesn’t mean they really are happy. Sometimes being happy is a cover up, because they don’t want people to feel bad for them. That’s all I have to say. Uhm, yeah. That is my lifestory and what I told the class today
If you actually took the time to read all of this, thank you<3
Ryan and I broke up a few months ago. We couldn’t handle the distance anymore, but we still remain best friends. David and I started talking, and ended up dating for four months. Never turned into an official relationship though. David and I are still friends to this day. A few months ago, I relapsed, and am now struggling with bulimia again. I binge and purge everyday. I hear voices in my head telling me I am fat and worthless. This voice in my head tells me I would be better off dead. I am not a diagnosed bulimic, my parents refuse to take me to a doctor when it comes to mental things like that. There isn’t a day that passes where I wish I was normal. To be completely honest, I don’t care. I know I have a problem, but I do not want help for it.
I met a new guy named Tyler. We talked and dated for about a month. Once he found out about my eating disorder, he broke it off with me because he said he couldn’t handle my addiction. He said he wanted me to be healthy, so he thought it would be best if we stopped dating. I still don’t want help for it. I am content with what I am doing, I don’t care about what it takes, I will be skinny again. I still struggle with depression, anxiety, and bulimia. Though I am not diagnosed, I do not need to be to know I have a problem, and an addiction. My parents have lost all faith in me. They think I will fail at life, because I refuse to be a nurse. I relapsed the other night, and cut again. I am still struggling with whether or not I should go back to my old ways of cutting.
There is nothing that is really good with my life right now. If I could, I would kill myself tonight. But to be completely honest, I am too scared to do so.