This really isnt a after effects story like most of the posts here in this section are. I still want to share it though and see if anyone else has felt the same way.. I never had a good life. My earliest memory is of my moms at the time boyfriend holding a porno magazine and telling me to come sit on his lap. I remember (very vage memories as luckily I blocked most of them out) a friend of hers touching my butt, holding up my shirt to touch my chest, and possibly raping me..Then stuffing a few dollars into my pockets before walking off. I grew up with a mom who went to school full time, worked for little bits of food at a local carry out, and got a check for $350 a month.. I always felt like no one cared much about me (expect for my Dad that is). My grandma is one of those people who think that children are the whole familys responsability so she got stuck caring for me a lot with my mom a full time student and all. I feel like she only took care of me because she felt I was her problem.. My Dad (whos not my dad but actually my moms stepfather but hes the only dad figure I ever have had and I have always called him Dad) is the only person in this family I felt really cared about me and not just because he had to.. Anyhow...I got badly depressed and kept it myself for the most part. Then I was 13 I started having a sexual relationship with a boyfriend. My mom freaked and stopped letting him around the house.. My depression got worse because I hated the fact she kept me and the boyfriend apart.. Things only got worse as I got older..Mom always said I could talk to her about anything and I tried she got angry with me..So I stopped talking to her.. I must of been about 14 or so as I was in another highschool (and I transfered in the 8th grade but didnt go there very long).. I finally had enough...I filled a huge bottle with random pills..and you probably know what happened from there... I crawled into a bed and waited to die..My mom finally notices something is up and carries me to the car and drives me to the ER..I remember seeing peoples faces as she dragged me thru the sliding ER doors. I remember nothing else for a while..Then I remember pulling off wires and maybe pulling out a iv, the memory is fuzzy. I remember throwing my shoes at the nurses and the doctors..Then I remember this nasty black stuff they poured down me and then they wouldnt let me use the bathroom..Next time I remember Im waking up in a hospital room to be toted to a mental ward... I had other attemps..I kept them quiet and they all failed... Today Im very angry with my mother still (Im 23 now)..I hate her for dragging me to the hospital.. I hate that she stuck me in the mental ward two times because it didnt help... Has anyone else been thru this? A strong hate because someone saved your life? I really wanted to move on/die/however you want to say it.. Things havent got any better, lifes not great now, all the promises of my problems being temporary and going away havent come true.... Just wondering if anyone else has had this after effect of being angry at whoever saved you?