I thought I’d post a backing/life story, as this is a good way to explain the person I am, and it is probably a lot of what has caused me to be in the mental state I am.
I have a younger brother and an older sister. And this may not be in complete order as I can’t remember exactly when things happened.

My parents got divorced when I was little. My Dad was never really around much anyway and was out fishing most the time. I don’t really remember this much, but I just know about it.

We then moved house when I was about 4 years old. The place we moved to was my childood years, and I have so many amazing memories from this road I lived down and the people down it. The way I talk about this place is as though I had the happiest childhood. I’ve bought myself to the conclusion about how I felt about living there, because I try to shut out all the bad stuff that happened.

My Mum re-married and this bought me my new stepdad. There’s not a lot I really remember clearly, as I try not to think about it, and I’ve done well to put it at the back of my mind; that doesn’t mean I don’t remember at all, and there I some things I remember quite clearly.
I got on well with my stepdad, I guess. But things changed. I don’t remember how it all started, but I remember times I felt uncomfortable. He had ‘his’ sofa, and the way he laid on it, we used to sit behind his legs. He had a habit of tickling us. It started off on my belly and under my arms, but then it began at the very tops of my legs. I didn’t see anything wrong with it at the age I was, I just felt uncomfortable - at that age I thought it was just because I didn’t want to be tickled. I used to make excuses and get a drink or use the toilet, then I would come back in and sit on the floor the other side of the room.
Another incident I remember, was when he was having a bath, and I needed to brush my teeth before bed. He grabbed me (I was still in my nightie) and he pulled me in the bath with him. There was also one time I remember sitting on his lap, and he made my hand touch his penis. It was horrible but I felt to awkward to tell anyone. You would at that age.

There were times I look back now on, and see he was taking my mum away from me. I didn’t realise it when I was younger, but thinking about it, it could be the reason I’m not as close to my Mum as I sometimes wish I was.

He used to send us out to play all the time, or they’d go out and leave us with a babysitter all the time. We’d always have to go to bed, when HE said, and if we were up of a morning before him, we’d be in trouble. And I generally never really got to spend as much time with my Mum as I would have liked. I still saw my Dad every Sunday for the day;  and my stepdad never hesitated to rush us out.

One day, we were picked up from school by the Police. Me, my Brother, and my Sister were taken to my Nan’s house and had to live their for 10 months.
This is because my Sister had revelaed my stepdad had been sexually abusing her. I never said anything about it happening to me. She had confessed and I didn’t think they needed to know about me.
I was only allowed to see my Mum once a week, with supervised contact from her.
We were now under a full care order.

After all the court cases and things that went along with that, we were finally allowed to move back home.
My Stepdad no longer lived there, and wasn’t allowed to see us under any circumstances. He used to pop by every afternoon/evening, and drive round there back, where my Mum would still pop out and see him. At this time, we either had to stay out the front playing, at our friends house a few doors down, or stay inside our house.
We then began staying over our nan’s house on a Saturday night, so that they could spend a night together once a week, then go home Sunday night after seeing my Dad.

I’m not sure when this started, but my Mum was a alcoholic. She still is. I know she went 6 years clean, but I’m not sure exactly when that period of time was. She took to smoking weed, and that’s how she managed to stay off of it. This was because of my Stepdad. He was a drug dealer.

We eventually moved house again. I think I was about 10. Still not allowed contact with my Stepdad, and we still stayed over my Nan’s of a weekend. After living here a while, as far as I can remember, she was drinking and smoking weed. I remember seeing bottles about, and for some reason, I remember her having a grinder in her bag.
Whether this just started, or had been going on a while, my stepdad was becoming violent. He’d hurt my Mum, leave her to walk home drunk after going out. On several ocassions he’s thrown her phone across the room, or at her and broke it; sometimes he’d generally just break it on purpose. He paid for all the bills, so technically it was his phone.
Being a drug dealer, he did have quite a bit of money. There were times he got me to count all the money and make sure it was all there.

He often tried to get rid of us. We have a miniture theme park local to us. Me and my friend went there quite often, and my stepdad often gave me and my brother money to go. I remember once, he tried getting rid of us quite early. He gave us an extra tenner to leave now instead of in an hour when we planned on leaving.
He often did things like this to get us out the house.

My Brother became quite violent. He must have been about 11 or 12 when me and my sister barricaded ourselves in our room with the furniture against the door as my brother tried axing his way into the room. Despite being almost 2 years younger than me, I was scared of my Brother.
I shared a room with my Sister, and she was a theif. She was ALWAYS taking things. She was selfish and only ever thought of herself. She shoplifted for a period of time, and my Mum caught her once. She confiscated the stolen items and that was that.

All my life I have pretty much just been the middle child. My Brother and sister always getting attention. And I was just standing there on the side. They always had their way and a lot of the time it was as though I didn’t exist. I was *SISTER*’s little sister, and people always thought I was just like her, and I never got the credit I should have, especially in school.
Either that, or they’d heard stories about my Brother and thought I behaved like him.

My stepdad was still in the picture, and we were spoilt a far amount by him. We recieved loads of presents at Christmas and on Birthdays, and recieved a lot of things the average child wouldn’t. We were safe as well. He was quite protective I guess, and was one of the ‘big boys’. The gangster type, and had done severe damage to other people. A lot of people were scared of him.

Christmas 2004, I think, my Sister met a guy. His Dad was single and she introduced him and my Mum. My Mum had an affair with him that Christmas.
I think my stepdad obviously suspected something, and The guy my Mum had an affiar with had his car covered in paint stripper, and was beaten up - extremely bad. He still has a metal plate in his head from it, and was black and bruised all over and was unable to walk properly.

In 2005, we went on holiday. Me, my Mum, my Brother, and my Stepdad. Strictly speaking we wasn’t allowed to have any contact with him, let alone go on holiday with him.
We had some stupid room in the hotel at first, and my and my Brother were in the living area and my Mum and stepdad in the other room. An argument kicked off that night. Over chips if I remember.
The next night we changed rooms. Me and my Brother had a suite with 2 rooms, and opposite ours was their suite.
The holiday went alright for a while. We spent one day together on the beach if I remember, and me and my brother did our own thing most the time.
There was one day, shit went down. My Stepdad went crazy, took asll the money the passprots, packed and left. This was after a huge argument. He was shouting at my Mum, and even started on my brother. He took his fishing rod and snapped it in half, and I just sat on my bed crying.
He did eventaully come back the next day, but the experience the night before was horrifying. We didn’t think he was going to come back, and we were going to be stranded in a foreign country.

Once returning home, he had been staying in the house. My Sister wasn’t happy about it. She said either he goes, or she does. Another argument kicked off, and he left. He parked just round the corner from our house and was going to wait for my sister to go to bed before coming back. He never did. The next morning (6 years ago today (4th November 2011)) he was found dead in his car. Death by heart attack - he had had heart trouble for the past 10 years, and this was his 9th.
We were pulled out from school that day, and for some reason I was extremely upset and greived for days.
this was when my Mum really hit the bottle. She went a good couple of months drinking.

Her and the guy she had an affair with eventually got together. They are now married.
He is lovely and I get on with him really well.

In May 2006, my coudin died, at 29, of breast cancer. I hadn’t seen her since I was a little girl, and I barely remember her. She was my Sister’s god mother, and it messed her up a lot more than it did me, as my sister took her exam the months following. Not to say I wasn’t affected by it, because I was greatly.

I can’t remember exactly when I first started cutting. I think I was about year 9 or 10, so was about 14 or 15. I know my sister had done it previously, so I guess I thought I’d try it as a coping mechanism. I know that part of me at that age did it for attention. I remember a teacher I really bonded with and was able to talk to. She understood me and knew what I had gone through. Whenever I was in her lesson, I’d have my sleeves rolled up, or take my bracelets off, so she could see I wasn’t coping. After not taking any notice. I went back to hiding it ALL the time. It then did become a way for me to cope, and whenever I felt down I would do it. I only used a blunt pair of scissors, but it did the job for now.

My brother decided to take after my old stepdad though. Took to smoking and drugs, and even grew his own plants. He got in with the wrong crowd. After several criminal offenses over the past years, he is currently in prison after owing someone money and resulting to aggrivated buglary and being found guilty.

My sister had a child just after turning 18, and another one when she was alomost 20. She is still with the same guy I spoke about earlier, and it’s been 7 and a half years they’ve been together, but she no longer loves him and is pretty much staying with him for the kids. But constantly complains about it behind his back but won’t do anything about it.

My Mum is still an alcoholic, and drinks whenever she gets the chance. She blows most of our money on it, and we have money trouble as it is.

For the past couple of years, I’ve been getting unexplained stomach cramps and pains. I’ve been to hospital several times, and had numerous tests done, and nothing has come back. There is nothing wriong with me. On several ocassions I’ve suspected appendicitis, but the hospital have said it isn’t. It got so bad once when i was out that I couldn’t walk, and was rushed to hospital on gas and air. I’ve still never found reasning behind these pains and cramps, but luckily haven’t had them in a while.

I struggled thorugh college. I was smart enough for it, just lacked the motivation and effort. I only just got through the 2 year course, 3 months late, scraping a DMM, rather than a DDD which I could have easily got.

The 2nd half of my first year, when I moved to a different age range in my child care placement, I hit a real low point. They wasn’t letting me do my activities/observations, and always had me sharpeneing pencils, laminating stuff, and I was never with the children a lot of the time. I mentioned a few times ‘can I do my observation…’ ‘I need to do my activity this week, can we go over it…’ and she said yeah, and then shrugged it off. I hate bugging people, so I ended up falling behind, and there was nothing I could do. I stopped going in, and I felt like such a faliure. I was having bad arguments with my Mum at that time too. I ended up running away from home. I went into the 6th form my friends went to, hung out for the morning, and in a way I was saying goodbye. I went and sat down the beach. I cut myself quite bad then. I used a sharpener blade and made several cuts up my arm. I was there all day, then stayed most the night. It got dark and chilly, and I went to ASDA which was 24 hours, and sat outside for safety and comfort. Unfortunately my Sister then walked by and found me in the early hours of the morning. I went into college the next day and acted like everything was fine.
After getting home, I made a huge slash in my arm. I wanted to do some damage, and I have a lovely scar to show that.
I’ve only used small cuts to cope before that.

A few days later, I went into college drunk. My Mum was drunk most the time, so I thought I’d see what it was like. I do have more confidence when I drink. I hadn’t eaten much though recently. I ended up feeling quite ill and I passed out just after lesson. They got a paramedic in and got me seen. I then had to meet with my social worker, and the head office guy. They were disappointed in me, told me it was my fault, said they don’t want it to happen again, and I need to think before I act.

Last year, over the summer, I met a guy. We hit it off and were together for some of the summer. I’d had sex before, but I was really drunk and barely remember it. I had sex for the first time with this guy, and everything that happened when I was little came flooding back. I had nightmares for 3 nights staright about what happened. I confided in a friend who had known about what I went through when I was younger. I was behaving all funny the next time the guy stayed over. He asked what was up, and after using all my strength to open up and tell him, I confided in him too. We had a talk about it all, and after that I was fine with it all.
Shit happened over the summer and he was the most two faced, untrustworthy person I’d ever met. It had taken so much of me to tell him what I did, and he went and told one of his friends, who told me he had told him.
He fucked me over bad and went off with one of my friends, and continued seeing me, and was telling both of us different stories. He eventually chose her, and rubbed it in my face at every given opportunity.
I was at a party and had kissed a fair amount of guys - I didn’t do it for fun, but to make him jealous. And it worked. after the party, we were all outside ASDA, and he pulled me over to talk to me. He said that I deserved what my stepdad did to me and that I was probably asking for it. I just walked away and I’ve hated him ever since. He then decided he liked my best friend, they got together, and over a year later they are still together.

I met someone lovely this summer too (2011). Things were really good and we both really liked eachother, and I REALLY fell for him. Then things just changed. He just stopped talking to me, stopped replying and just generally fucked me over completely. This really messed me up and I’m still not over it, and it’s been over 8 months now.

August 2011, I was triggered by a broken bottle. All I saw was the broken head, and just felt the need to cut. I tried breaking the top of the bottle off, but failed and just cut my thumb a bit. I then grabbed the bottle, smashed it against something, and grabbed some glass and sliced it across my wrist. I had no reason for doing so, I was just triggered seeing the broken glass. I was drunk at the time, and that’s the bit I only really remember. Apparently a load of people saw me do it; usually no one even knows I have scars, let alone see’s me cut my arm open.

About a week after this, I burnt my arm in several places which resulted in it blistering badly, and scarring.

A couple of days after this was when i really hit the bottom. I began hearing voices. They told me to find a happy place, and I need to take something to feel better. I take iburofen to feel better so for some reason assumed this. They kept telling me to take more and more, and I eventually took about 40. Things got really bad and they were shouting abuse at me, I shouted at them, they went away, and I only then realised something was wrong. I felt numb, alone and scared, so called my friend, and she got me to hospital.
I was eventaully dischared and they said I was fine, and in the next few days another friend forced me to the doctors.
I recieved therapy from October to January, and I did an online therpay course too.

I don’t feel better at all. I don’t feel as thought the therapy helped a huge amount. I haven’t hurt myself since December 27th 2011, and hopefully that date won’t change. I’m still hearing voices ocassionally, and I still feel in a terrible low depressive mood all the time. I have suicidal thought a lot of the time, and feel extremely alone. I hate myself and do think I would be better off not here, and there are several reasons behind that.

I was seeing another guy, but he fell for me pretty hard. I see him more as a best friend than a boyfriend though, and always think I have. We still talk, and he knows pretty much everything.

I met another guy at the end of 2011, and thought something was going to happen with us. Things got misunderstood at one point, and we didn’t talk for a couple of weeks, and he’s now ‘seeing’ someone else. This has messed me up a fair amount. He’s the only person who took my mind off of the guy I’m still not over, and I was in tears when he told me, and said we can still be mates.

This girl I know who decides to steal everyone’s boyfriend/person her friends are interested in, decided to sleep with the guy I’m not over. After not seeing him for 3 months, him and her were both there when a group of us went out once. This really messed with my head.

My birthday, in January 2012 was a let down. All my usual group of friends let me down, even my ‘close/best’ friends did. I thought the beginning of 2012 was great, I was on a high and things were going well, but everything has been going more and more downhill since then.

I also started smoking around the beginning of Novembver. At first it was a distraction. It took my mind off things and made me feel better. I wasn’t addicted, but I think I’m starting to be. Whenever I feel irritable I know it’ll calm me down for a while. I smoke between 20 and 40 a week.

I’m just gonna keep struggling on, and hope things work themselves out for the better.

If you read that, then thank you.. and now you have an understanding of why I may feel the way I do.
There are a lot of things I maybe should have included, but I have only just thought of now, or didn’t know where to put them.
Feel free to ask any questions.