I don't talk to anyone about what's is going on through my head, mainly it's because when I do try, I can see their judgement, but as well the misunderstanding in their eyes. I don't have any friends because I'm just too different. Not only am I an atheist and I like girls, but I'm anti-social and plain awkward. I want to start from the beginning, since I've never done that before. I want someone out there to know my story. The reason for who I am today. Even if you guys think I'm stupid, or lame. It's okay, because we all have our opinions, right? Anyways, the thing is I cant remember my childhood. Not entirely, just barely. I do remember about two handful of memories, which aren't so pretty, at least in my opinion. I was abused. My father used to pick me and my sister up from school, so we can clean the house before my mother came home. If we laughed, he would beat us with the belt. We always had very bad bruises on ourselves. It wasn't a surprised considering he used to beat the shit out of my mother too. I was constantly picked on in school, because my parents didn't bother to put on clean clothes, or take us a shower, so we were called oil cans. Mainly because we lived on a boat. I didn't have any friends during that time either. I didn't go to birthday parties, or school events, not that anyone invited me. From what I could remember I was also left alone with my father many times and during those times he was really drunk and let his friends beat me with a belt.. They would both laugh, while I screamed and cried. Not surprising, when my fathers friend also molested me. I don't remember his face, except for what he did to me and what he made me do to him. I guess I was a very weak person, not like today is any different. My sister's friend also used to kiss me and dry hump me. This is all taking my place when I was around 6. I guess not a good start. What's really bothering me today is that.. I've always had a nagging feeling that I was forgetting something important. This might be a very big accusation; it is, but I thought my father molested me as well.. I've had a couple of memories of him being a little too friendly with me. Specifically, two memories. One, I was alone with him again and he told me it was time for bed. He then wrapped me up in a thin blanket. None of my memories are vivid, it's like I'm seeing the memories I do have as someone else, but he began thrusting into me, lightly. I just remember being scared and wondering, 'what in the world is he doing?' My second memory, and he did this a lot, was when he would come on top of me and hold my arms on top of my head and lick my whole entire face, thoroughly. Even when I screamed, cried, and begged him to stop. He also apparently molested my sister, not that anyone believed her, except for me (oh, I have 8 siblings btw). What really bothered me the most was that my aunt called me when I was 15, crying, telling me she was so sorry that she didn't protect me. That she should have done something and that she failed. When I told her I didn't know what she was talking about (although I had a hunch) she told me that I had ran up to her when I was little, crying hysterically, claiming my father touched me. What makes it worst is that I'm finally looking for answers and now she has a disease that makes her no longer remember what she even ate for breakfast. I'm 21 now. I've always been depressed for as long as I remember. I'm lonely, but I also hate being around people. It's obvious that I'm too different, which makes it difficult for me. My mother never cared about neither me, nor my sister. She let my father do so many things to us, even when she knew about the beatings. Even when she heard my cry. Over and over, day after day. When I was in 9th grade, I started cutting myself and getting into drugs. It was so obvious, but she instead gave me dirty looks and called me a dirty lesbian and that I was going to hell. She never protected me even when both of her brothers punched me in the face. She just blamed me. Like always. Everything is my fault, but.. What if I'm living with one of my molesters? I know I can't remember. It's driving me crazy. I hate myself, because I've let so many things happen to me. You can't say it was because I was young and didn't know any better. I knew they were bad things. I knew I wasn't supposed to let it happen, but I did. I feel useless and I'm always so angry. I don't have any family. Everyone I know it selfish, which is understandable because we all have our own lifes, but I'm drowning inside! and no one can see me! Even when I try to make it obvious, their oblivious! or maybe they don't want to know. They don't want to know my secrets. I've tried to off myself a couple of times, but I was too much of a chicken shit... I really do hate myself though. I'm so sick of crying and being picked on, BY EVERYONE! I know I let it happen, but I'm so sick of it. Why does everyone want to hurt me? I try to be a good person, but it doesn't work out like that in the end. Everyone just thinks I'm sick.. Am I? Would you let your past go? It's so hard. I don't think anyone understands. I hate everyone. I hate when people are happy. I hate when they have friends and are having a great time. I'm so jealous, because I wanted all of that! My bruises were so visible. My face was constantly swollen. Why didn't anyone help me?!.. Anyways I guess that's my story. The reason I'm so angry and depressed. My family won't remember me when I'm gone. I know that deep down they'll be secretly happy. Actions speak louder than words, right?