My self harm story. part 1

I am 15, and have been cutting for 5 years now.
I started for the first time when I was 10..
~My family at the time contained my one older sister, one younger brother and 3 older brothers, one of which is adopted.
That is where everything begins.
My adopted brother was 16 and was put into a foster home for the first time, after he watched his father murder his mother.
He was never the same kid. Eventually, my parents adopted him, because he was really good friends with the rest of my family. At the time, I was excited for him to be coming to live with us..
He forced me to do things, sexually, he also made me sleep in his room sometimes.. and he would get me drunk, and sometimes high.. and he would just do whatever he wanted to me.
I would run to my room, lock the door, cry, and cut myself. and when I would come out, he would grab me, and hold me while I cried into his chest, and he would say that everything was going to be okay. That no mattter what happened, he would always love me.
And, Honestly, I believed him.
This went on for a little while, and then he moved out.. and things seemed to be getting better..
~But then, my parents got divorced when I was eleven, I didn't get a choice, I was going to be living with my mother. Things were okay.. She founf a guy that she wanted to live with, so we moved in, It was a smaller house, so I had to share my room with his daughter.
Don't get me wrong, This girl was darling. I loved her.. but she also suffered from self harm problems. just like me. and When you put us together.. we would cut together at the sane time. Let's just say that being together probably didn't help either of us.
Now some extra things to know about me, are that I have other problems. Including ADD, insomnia, some schizophrenia, anemia, and i also struggle with anorexia.
~After my mom and her dad broke up, we got our own place. and I decided I wanted to go live with my dad, cause I then had the choice. Things began to look up, and I stopped for a little while.but then, my dad became an alcoholic.
Forcing me to clean the house, and calling me an ugly bitch.. it really sucked.. So I started cutting.. again.. and I noticed that I couldne't take the stress.. I honestly didn't feel safe..
~So when I got the opportunity, I moved back in with my mother.
By then, she had a new boyfriend.. this one worse than the first.
He moved in.. Something about him, threw me off.. his appearence scared me.
At first glance, I knew that something was wrong with him..
2 weeks later, I found out.. He was also an alcoholic, and he likes to get high.. great right?
One night, he tried to touch me, I didn't like it, so I ran out of the house, and called my sister, and went to stay with her.
When I went back to my house a few days later, everything seemed fine.. While I was sleeping, he tried to sneak into my room.. but with my insomnia, I was actually still awake.. I screamed.. and he ran out of the room before my mother came to check on me.. after that, I began cutting again..
I tried telling my mother that I didn't like him, that I didn't trust him.
She didn't care..
So after than I kept 3 knives in my room, one under my bed, one in my dresser, and one in my closet. I needed to know that I was going to be safe, even if I had to deal with things myself.
He would fight with my mother, and I didn't like that, so I would tell him to leave her alone, and she would tell me to go to my room, that she didn't need me.
Eventually, she began drinking.. and they stopped paying bills, and we moved.
~At the new house, I still kept my knives hidden. I coulden't trust anyone but my sister and her husband.. Things at home sucked. but I had met a guy, and he began to date.. he was someone I could talk to and finally trust, knowing he woulden't tell.. I stopped cutting because I felt safe knowing he was there for me but he then broke up with me over a dare.
Then we got back together, I just had to have him. I needed someone.. This went on for a little bit, and the same sequence of events happened a few more times. by the end of everything.. it was the 5th time he had broken up with me. This time I was mortified. He called me a complete slut, and a whore, and a bitch, and pretty much every insulting thing that you could call a girl.. I carved his name into my skin, the next day, I crossed it out. and this went on for a while.. I felt worthless, like no one could love me.
~I then lost my best friend.. I coulden't hold on to her.. knowing that if I told her anything.. she would hate me..
I was alone. One night I was on a website, and I saw a guy who intrigued me. I messaged him, and we began to talk.. things got better.. Although he lived really far away.. he helped me through things. He hadn't had the best life either.
~Then people in school started hating me, for no reason. Eh, whatever, I tried to shake it off.. but it doesn't work that way here
The rest is in part 2.

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Education

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• harm
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