I beg you to read this, this is my life story..

Discussion in 'Suicidal Thoughts and Feelings' started by xxObliviatexx, Oct 12, 2012.

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  1. xxObliviatexx

    xxObliviatexx Member

    On August 10th, 1998, I was born. My mother, Amanda Corona had finally given birth to me. I was only one pound, and I cannot seem to remember how long I was. I was three months premature. Though, being premature had caused many problems for me. I had to have tubes to feed me, and my lungs weren't fully developed. I had to be taken by helicopter many times just to survive. My life continued on normally as I healed, and my mother raised me well. My father, David, was stubborn. He told my mother that he did not want anything to do with me, ever, and left my mother. My mother attempted to find many ways to cope, and began doing drugs, and drinking alchohol. My uncle, Noel, also began doing these things, as I was two, he had his first child, also. My mother, and uncle struggled. My uncle was never with his children, and was always out getting in trouble, and trying to find drugs. My mother, though, made a very big mistake..

    When I was four years old, my mother was babysitting me, and my autistic cousin John. John is not able to take care of himself, and needed a lot of help and supervision, due to his seizures. My mother left home with us, and went over to her friends house attempting to get ahold of some marijuana. We were left in the living room, and my cousin had started having a seizure. I began crying, very much, and screaming for my mother. As soon as my mother walked in the living room, there were bright flashing lights outside of the house windows. My mothers friend ran very fast into the back room, and hid, while my mother walked outside. The police men began pulling her out onto the street, and as soI on as that happened, she began trying to resist. They began hitting her, until she was crying on the road and could not move. I saw everything, and as they handcuffed her, they brought out her friend and did the same to him. I was pulled away, and stuffed in the back of a police car, and my cousin was taking away in an ambulance, almost looking lifeless.

    I was taken home then. I remember my grandma and my grandpa sitting on the couch, and screaming at each other. My grandmother looked at me with tears streaming down her face, and told me I was going to have to go somewhere. I remember, I hid behind the recliner, and looked at her, asking why I had to leave. I sat there smiling, not even knowing what was going on. A few minutes later, a man came in the living room. He looked at me, and picked me up. I began crying, and screaming at the man. I did not know him, and I did not know where he was taking me. I was put in a van, and taken somewhere. Though, I could not see because it was dark outside. It took about an hour to get there, and when I was taken inside, I was put down on a bed. It was a single bed, and it was a plain room. Nothing looked as if it had been made for me, and this made me curious. I had fallen asleep soon after. This was the beginning of a time I wish I had never experienced.

    The man ended up being my father, David Marberry. He lived with his son, Brycen, and his wife, Amy. I was put in elementary school, and met a girl named Rachel. She became my best friend, and everything was going great. All throughout Elementary, and first, things went good. Amy was working, and so was my father. Though, Amy quit her job in the end of my first grade year. She began baby sitting me, and another girl during the summer. Also, my brother. Not long after, I found out how sick, and sadistic Amy truly was.

    Amy began acting a little weird around me, and the other girl. I do not remember the girl's name, so I will call her Alexandria. Amy would take I, and Alexandria into the back room, and tell us to sit there. She would look at us for a while, and then tell us to go take a bath. Once that happened, I then noticed she was truly acting a bit strange. She'd have this weird smile on her face the whole time that she was washing us. It only got worse day by day. Soon enough, Amy began telling Alexandria and me to do things together. She would tell us to kiss, or touch eachother, and if I did not do what she said, she would hit me. She would continue hitting me until I couldn't breathe on the floor. Her only excuse for my bruises was "she's a little rough with Alexandria, and Brycen when she is playing." One day, when I was seven, Amy had Alexandria and I in the back room, again. My father came home from work, and walked in on us. I was kissing Alexandria, and Amy was sitting on my bed. David looked at Amy, and all of a sudden...Amy began screaming at me. She told my father she had been watching us in time out, and was looking on her phone. She told him lies. She told him I was kissing her on purpose. I was thrown across the room, and beaten senseless. I could not move because Amy had beaten me so badly.

    Life went on, and I lived with them until I was eight years old. Amy stopped physically hurting me the day my father walked in, but she would continue to go into my room while I was changing. She would force me to sleep naked, and when I woke up, she would tell me to do things until she found out what clothing she would make me wear. In the process, she would ridicule me. She would call me ugly, and tell me how fat I was getting. She would tell me no one loved me, and all that I am to anyone is a "stupid toy." My father then gave up custody when ever I turned eight, due to the fact I had gotten hypothyroidism, and I was borderline Diabetic. My mother had been in rehab from the time she was arrested until I was nine. I was put into school when I was moved to Bryan, and I started third grade at Bonham Elementary. My hypothyroidism caused me to gain a lot of weight, due to the fact I could not be put on medication to control my thyroid because I was so young. This is when I began getting bullied..

    Kids would sit there, and pick on me for hours at a time. They'd say the mean things just like Amy did. They'd tell me I was fat, ugly, stupid, retarded, and that I was so ugly that no one liked me. I sat alone at lunch, but when I went home I stayed in contact with my friend, Rachel. All the bullying still went on, but I still managed to remain happy. Until 5th grade..I was at home one day, and I attempted to call my friend Rachel. Her mother picked up, and I asked to speak to my friend. Her mother began crying on the phone, and explained to me that Rachel was killed in a car accident. I hung up the phone, and cried for a long time that day.

    I went on, and attempted to continue to carry on my happiness for a long time. Sixth grade came, and I changed a lot. I went from dressing in dresses, and skirts to wearing all pants, and t-shirts. I went from liking country and pop music to heavier metal, and rock. My happiness slowly faded, and I wore a jacket constantly because I felt fat all the time. No one had talked to me in sixth grade, and I got picked on a lot. One day, a girl decided she would come up to me, and start picking on me. I did not reply, or say anything to her, and to be funny she screamed, "Girl, what did you say?" She had gotten all of her friends to come up to me, and pick on me. Soon after, in the hallway, I walked off as fast as I could. She came up behind me, and began hitting me. She also got her friends to began hitting me also. I laid there, in the middle of the hallway, crying the same way I did when Amy beat me. And then things changed even more..

    I met new friends. There names were Sierra, Jack, and Sarah. We were always together, and I felt as if I fit in for a while. One of my friends, showed me self harm. She had began self harming, and she would show me how to. I then started to self harm when ever I was upset, and it was only tiny cat scratch like cuts. I was able to hide them easily, and it was only experimental. The cuts became worse, and I became more upset. Everything felt as if it was crashing around me. Home was only worse. My uncle, and mother would get into fights daily, some ending up very physical. Cops were called constantly, and all I did was stay in my room, crying my eyes out. My mother was arrested many times, and always ended up being on drugs. I stayed on my laptop, and I discovered many parts of the internet.

    I found chat sites online, and began talking to people way older than me. I found people who I thought were my friends. I met this one boy, his name started with a G, and we began talking. I was twelve at the time, and he was seventeen. He began calling himself my "boyfriend," and we began talking many times a day, almost every day. G began telling me to do things that were like what Amy did, except I felt attracted to him. He gave me a site, and it ended up being a porn site. He kept telling me to watch the videos because "that's what he wanted to do with me." G would ask me to take pictures of my body, and send it to him. He would compliment me, and tell me nice things. I became addicted to the videos, and sent pictures to him regularily.

    Seventh grade came, and I continued my relationship with G. My cuts became actual cuts, and I started hating life, and everyone who was in my life. I was doing good in school, but then christmas came around. My family had gotten into a big fight on christmas, and when I had called G, I then got news that almost destroyed me. G told me he was using me, and that he never loved me. He posted all my pictures on a site, and told me how there's guys with my number. I went online, and stayed in my room for most of christmas break. I then met my friend, Jonathon. We started talking, and he became my best friend. I felt loved for once. I was happy for the rest of seventh grade, it seemed.

    In eighth grade, things seemed good. I met a boy named Sean Mora. He became my boyfriend, and everything was okay. I was extremely happy for once in my life, and I felt like nothing could destroy that happiness. I even got to see my first concert on 11-11-11. In November, I was diagnosed with depression, bipolar, psychosis, schizophrenia, and anxiety. My mind began going nuts, and I began hearing voices. I found a box cutter one night, and began cutting up my arms, I had even slit my wrists. My mother found me, and I was sent to the hospital. The hospital sent me to a mental hospital the first time in my life. After that, I became happy again, everything went well.

    In February, I lost my virginity to Sean. He began telling people, and I felt really bad about myself. I lost trust in him, and then...this girl began telling people I was pregnant. I didn't know what to do, so I just went along with it. People kept bothering me, and I kept my mouth shut. They kept making up their own stories. I was now not only getting called fat, emo, stupid, and such...but now they were calling me a *****, and things. Then someone began saying I miscarried, or got an abortion. I didn't know what to do, either. So, as I had been, I just went along with it. I had to continue telling people those lies, and it hurt me so bad. I knew the truth, and all because of Sean, he fucked up my life. People knew me as a girl who got pregnant, or a baby killer. Sean and I broke up, and he continued to tell people many things about me. I tried suicide in February by overdosing for the first time. I ended up getting into a fight with one girl who wouldn't shut her mouth, and got sent to DAEP. I then attempted another suicide in May, by overdose.

    In the summer between 8th and 9th grade, things calmed down. I wasn't so depressed, and I got a bit happier. I had met a girl named Jesse a little bit before Sean and I broke up, and she became a close friend of mine. I also met a guy, his name was Evan. He became my friend, and then..my boyfriend. I had sex with Evan about a month into our relationship, and did so at least two times. We were extremely close, and then I found out Evan was moving. Jesse and I began having problems with each other. She began telling people many things about me, and I did the same about her. People I didn't even know began hating me, and everything. Evan moved away, and I became very depressed. Everything was already bad because of Jesse, and I dug a deeper hole into my depression. I began gaining weight, and I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. I felt ugly, and stupid, and fat. All I wanted to do was smoke, or drink. But then I finally lost it, I stopped talking to Jesse, and lost most of my friends. I had lost almost everyone.

    Then there came the moment in August where I decided to overdose. I took about 30 pills, and I was entirely sure that it was going to work. I told my mother that I had overdosed, and went to lay on my bed. I set the pills by my bed, and then became sick. I puked all over myself, and sat there. I felt paralyzed, until I finally felt a completely huge pain in my stomach. I began screaming, and crying, and I didn't know what to do. I began screaming for my mother, and my step-father. They came into the room, and began laughing at me. I was screaming for help, and all they did was laugh. I fell off of my bed, hitting my head on my dresser, and slowly got up, dragging myself through my parents, and into my grandmother's room. I grabbed the phone, and layed on the ground, calling an ambulance. I passed out due to the medication while I was on the phone, and I woke up in the hospital. I had IVs in me, and they had flushed out my stomach. I gave my mother the excuse that I was just trying to get sent to a mental hospital to miss school, and hid the fact that I was actually planning to kill myself, but failed horribly.

    Things continued, and my life remained horrible. Evan ended up cheating on me when he moved, and I was pregnant with his child. I miscarried, and every thought that goes through my mind has something to do with suicide. I still struggle with smoking, and wanting to drink alchohol. Most of my friends and family no longer care about my suicidal thoughts, and everything is now falling apart. My mother is beating me, and so is my step-father. I feel as if I have no reason to longer live, and everything is slowly going to waste as I type. I really like this guy, though. He's honestly the reason I'm alive right now. And, because of my goals. I am trying to keep staying here for my friends, and to prove my mother wrong. I AM smart, I CAN do what I have planned, and I plan to do it. I may do it all alone, or with someone finally, but oh well.

    All I want to do right now is cut my self up, and overdose..I don't know what to do anymore.
  2. empty101

    empty101 Well-Known Member

    I read your story... I'm sorry how things have played out in your life.

    You are very young and I can tell by your writing that you are very intelligent. I hope you find the courage to live and stop yourself from hurting yourself.

    I also want to encourage you to have safe sex... it's very important. That means using AT LEAST a condom every time. It'll save you from a lot of pain and frustration in the future.

    If you feel lonely or really sad please make an effort to get help from someone on this site. There are lots of people here who would talk to you.
  3. Black Sun

    Black Sun Active Member

    Hi Olivia,

    I really related to what you wrote at the end of you story; "I AM smart, I CAN do what I have planned, and I plan to do it. I may do it all alone, or with someone finally, but oh well." My life basically ended at age 56; there was nothing left to live for. I did find a reason to keep living but instead of finding support, I felt rejection and disbelief from my family. For them, my going back to college was insane, and I felt they never thought I could do what I wanted to do and be what I wanted to be. I have persevered in spite of their opposition. Fortunately, I get great grades which feels good and I also get encouraging feedback from many of my professors. I BELIEVE YOU WHEN YOU SAY YOU ARE SMART AND CAN ACHIEVE YOUR GOALS! There are other people out there who are willing to support you in this. Just remember; "WHETHER YOU SAY YOU CAN, OR YOU CAN'T, YOU ARE RIGHT!" One of my professors told me this. It is true.

    Learn how to care for body through proper diet and exercise, try to make connections with healthy, secure, and kind people, and get help with the emotional and psychological trauma you've experienced.

    The pain is not an illusion, it's there signaling you that something is wrong which needs to be healed. You can do it and leave the world a much better place than you've found it to be so far in your life. That's something important to take into the next life; you'll never be perfect, but at least you tried. I pray the Lord will support you in every trial you will face. Life is not easy, but nothing good ever is.

  4. xxObliviatexx

    xxObliviatexx Member

    I am on birth control. I don't know how it happened, but it did. And, thank you.
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