(not sure if this belongs here - feel free to move it) It seems that no matter how much therapy I have, how much I self examine or how much I try to move past what happened to me I can't seem to be happy. I am so fucking tired of waking-up crying, living my daily life crying and going to bed crying. Someone years ago when I was just a little girl told me that we choose to be happy or we choose to be sad. I know that isn't true but it still makes me feel like a failure. I have begun to understand something about the healing process. We so often have a strong sense of self-blame that causes us to dislike and even hate ourselves. It can be so strong of a sense of self-blame that nothing can alter the way we feel. I know this to be a possibility, and in my case an obvious fact because I literally hate myself. There is only two reasons I haven't killed myself; my sister and dad are the only reasons. The reason I stay isn't because they will be better off with me because I know that isn't true. I do know they believe they would be better off with me and they would foolishly miss me. They will probably always feel that way, and I will be trapped here to FEEL. Before my assault I never really was all that happy, and my happiest moments were when mom and I were being silly and pretending to be fashion models. We would buy new outfits and try them on and take pictures of each other and post them on various fashion blogs for people to judge us. We wanted to be on display and to be judged and it didn't matter if someone said something negative because we BELIEVED we were hot. Now it is all different. My rapist took pictures of me with my own cell phone while he hurt me. Some or all of those pictures have made it around the internet because in the few hours between the time he let me go and the police arrested him, he gave them to his half brother. It was bad enough being raped and tortured and then to have one of my favorite memories of mom and photography spoiled by him taking pictures of me, but to find out they are posted online. I spend a significant amount of time online searching for those pics and when I find them I report it to the police. They almost always disappear within a day or two, but I KNOW my pictures will always be floating around the internet in some pedi/rapist/website and I will be once again providing some sort of stimulation for some sick freak. I have self-blame because it is my fault. I knew it was a bad idea to get into a vehicle with someone I didn't really know. Dad actually had a rule, we had a rule against that. I didn't listen to him and what happened to me was a repercussion of my mistake. I'm not implying that I deserved what happened to me, because no one deserves that. However I consciously made a choice to ignore the rules and I got burned. My decisions led to it happening because if I made a different decisions it wouldn't have happened. I know that is true because the police asked him why he chose me and he said, "Because she was there and she let me manipulate her". He also told the police that he didn't have the intention of finding me personally, just finding someone. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. That of course is a randomness that was, is, and will continue to be out of my control. Still it is my fault. I chose to remain behind at the mall with him even though I KNEW that was against the rules. I hate myself. I hate everything about me. I hate that I am so fucking stupid that can be so easily manipulated. I hate that my mom was taken from me and that I through my own piss poor decision making have allowed my memory of the fun we had with photography be stained with the new memories that stem directly from those bad decisions. I hate seeing myself in the mirror. I hate it so much that I refuse to look in the mirror to brush my hair. I hate having my picture taken. I took a picture of myself a few weeks ago so that I could post it on Facebook, but I could only post it after I photoshopped it into some sort of grotesque malconformation of myself. I know why I did that; I am just trying to show everyone what I look like once their blinders have been removed so they can see me the way I see myself, the way I REALLY am. I'm tired of being here. I want a way out where I will not hurt my family. Why can't they see me for the worthless slut I am? Why can't they see the ugliness? Why are they so blind? He should have killed me.