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Wow. That’s a lot of words. Whelp, I came here to write my life story. It all started when I was born. I was adopted at three days blah blah blah. Time skip to when I was six. Well, my sixth birthday. Now, when a kid hears birthday, they think OH YEAH TIME FOR THINGS AND CAKE! That’s what I thought too, that is, until my 15 year old cousin sexually abused me. I was watching Spongebob and he wouldn’t shut up about me going the bathroom. He kept asking me if I needed to go. Finally, I was just like “If I go will you shut the hell up?” Of course, I didn’t say that. I mean I was six. Oh, by the way. If you aren’t okay with curse words, I’m sorry. I go by the rule as long as you’re not calling someone who doesn’t deserved to be called that name, you’re good. Like, I’ll say fucking hell but I won’t call someone a fucking idiot. It’s weird. Anyways, all he did was (WARNING!!! THE NEXT PART MAY BE GRAPHIC TO SOME READERS. PLEASE READ ON WITH CAUTION) touch my area and take a video of him doing it. I didn’t know until a few months ago that this gave me PTSD. I can’t remember anything earlier than the age of six. I can also leave reality real quick and go into a different personality. Like, I’m INFP. I didn’t know what anal and oral were til freshman year in high school…which was two years ago. I can’t say the word or type it it’s six in Latin. Well, I guess a good way to put is that I’m really good at roleplaying. Time skip to age eleven. I’m just gonna say one thing. I made up something and it caused me to land in the College Hill maniac ward. Or something like that. I guess it wasn’t a maniac ward. It was for suicidal kids. I met someone there. His name was Devin/Devon. He was the first guy I willingly let touch me. NOT IN A PERVERTED WAY! It was a hug. But that hug meant the world to me. And then we split paths. I still wonder how he’s doing. Devin, if you read this, wassup. Anyway, time skip to freshman year. I cut. There’s no other way to say it. Someone gave me a blade, and I cut. That’s when I really noticed my depression. Oh, I forgot to add my dad both verbally and physically abused me. My entire life. Well, almost. Time skip to when I was fourteen. I met him. He was everything to me. He was the reason I woke up in the morning, the reason I smiled, the reason I thought I was pretty, the reason I could take my mask off. God, let’s see if I can do this without crying. His name was Gareth. He lived in Wales. So yes, I met him online. And don’t give me that bullshit about you can’t develop relationships with someone online. You can. I never knew how to feel loved, or to love in that matter. He took my depression away. Well, time skip to July 1st, 2016. I was in Michigan because my dad had gotten a double lung transplant and my mom was watching him. So me and my sis were with my aunt. We went to a wedding that day. And that night, I asked, “yo, if you could marry anyone in the world, who would it be?” His answer? “You, maybe”. And that was the day everything broke. A couple months later, Marin, my best friend, messaged him. M: Hey. G: Hi. M: Do you know Emily? G: No. M: Yes you do. She really misses you. G: I don’t know her anymore. And tell her to stay out of my life.// And that was the breaking point. I still cry about him. Junior year. So this year. My depression hit an all time high. I wanted to die. I didn’t want to live anymore. I scratch with a mechanical pencil. It helps. I went to a partial center for it for about two weeks. That didn’t help at all. Though I did make friends. And then, I cut with scissors. That was legit. It was the first time I bled from cutting (it was like a tiny cut). I went to the hospital. Well, I should probably mention Jonny here. I’ve had bad experience after bad experience with guys. But that day, he skipped class to sit with me in the nurses office. I’m not gonna even get into Nashville. We fake dated to trip someone up. And then, me being the idiot I am, fell in love with him. Back to the story. When I left to go to the hospital, he was there. Now back to the main story. I got to the hospital around 3:30 PM. My mom stayed with me til around 5:30 in the morning. Finally, the ambulance drove me to the other campus. I got all situated and everything. I called Jonny from there everyday. And Karina. OMG, I forgot to mention Karina. She is the sister God forgot to put in the same family as me. So really we’re not related. But we’ve been friends since I was 13. She is my sister and she’s the definition of a dumb blonde. But I love her either way. She was the one who helped me with Gareth, and whenever someone who I’m not best friends with does something or tells me something, I tell her. I met a lot of awesome people at the place. And they were almost all suicidal, just like me. I go back to school. Now we time skip to now. Everything that has happened since then: we’re moving from the house I’ve lived in my entire life. My dad was kicked out of the house from Child Protective Services. My parents are getting a divorce. I can’t take Sami, my baby (he’s a cat) when we move. Marin, my once best friend, betrayed my trust and told Jonny I liked him for real. Marin is now acting like a total bitch (she deserves to be called that) and is acting like this is all my fault that our friendship turned out like this. But, through this, I met someone who makes me happy. And that’s not trying to be cheesy or corny or anything. Let’s just say I now have a future.

If you don’t wanna read all that, basically, if life sucks, then there’s nothing you can do about it. At least that’s what Christians think with the whole “God has a plan”. But you know what? Well one, I am a Christian, just not on board with the whole God plan thing. Two, there is something you can do about it. I’m not gonna say it’s wrong to cut. It’s your body. Burn it, slash it, scratch it, whatever you want. Cutting actually releases dopamine which is basically happiness. Just don’t stop. Never stop. You are awesome. If you’re thinking “no I’m not”, why? and I wanna hear it from you, not a reason someone else gave you. Hope you enjoyed my life story.