I have been contemplating this for a while now, and I think it is time I got some of this off my chest. I have never really opened up about any of this, except to a couple of my close friends on here. I have had some time to reflect on what happened, to try and make sense of it all. I don’t know how much of this, if at all has contributed to any of my mental health problems but I have begun to think about it a lot lately. I am sorry if any of this is triggering in anyway, I have tried not to go into too much detail, so mods/admin feel free to edit content should you need to. All of this is very personal to me, think I must be mad for sharing it, but there's only so much you can hold in for so long, especially when it doesn't make sense. It's also very long an rambling, so I apologise in advance. I had just started junior school and had not long turned 8 years old. I thought I was all grown up now I had started big school. I didn’t know any of the other children at this new school, as I had moved across town. It was good; I made a lot of friends and even found myself a male admirer. After all, it is kind of cute when 8 year olds think they are girlfriend and boyfriend. I used to have friends over from school all the time, and the boy I was erm, well, I wouldn’t exactly say dating had a party and of course I was invited. I remember being alone in his bedroom, and he gave me a kiss on the lips. Sweet I guess, then all of a sudden we are on the floor and he rubbing himself against me. I was completely naïve and oblivious to what was happening, I thought it was normal. I thought, “This is what boyfriends and girlfriends must do”. This happened a few times, not to mention the amount of times he stuck his tongue down my throat. I don’t know if it’s normal for 8 year old boys to act so sexually, but I thought it was normal, nor did I really associate it with sex at the time. I started going through puberty at an early age, and when I was 12, I had boobs, curves, big bum and tree trunk thighs. I had quite a toned body for a 12 year old as I was very athletic, and I guess I was quite mature for my age, although now that I think about it, I was very naïve. I attracted a lot of male attention. Boys would either say that I was too fat (just because I wasn’t stick thin and had thighs and a bum), would say that I was fit or would just simply hang around me because they thought I was a slag cause I was one of the few white girls in the school, which they all thought offered sex on a plate. I remember one day standing in the lunch queue with my friends, and we were being a bit loud and were drawing attention to ourselves. A group of boys then began to chip in with some banter, and for saying that we were between the ages of 11-13, the conversation soon turned very sexual. One of the guys then asked me that out of all of them, who I would kiss. I turned round and ignored him and my friend suggested that to shut him up that I said him, so I did. Then he started flirting and being quite dirty, and whilst I guess I was flattered, I stayed silent as I felt very uncomfortable, especially as I did not find him attractive in the slightest. Then after lunch, we left the canteen and walked around the school field, talking, laughing and just being kids. The guy from the canteen had followed us and asked if he could talk to me on my own. I didn’t see anything wrong with this, so we took a walk round the school field. I don’t really remember what we talked about now, but we came to a slope that was shaded by trees. We walked down the slope where he proceeded to feel me up, grab my hand and put it on his crotch, where I could feel everything as clear as day. I didn’t think much of it at the time, except feeling quite uncomfortable but I thought that was what teenagers did. After that, this boy harassed me non stop. He would follow me round school, and when I was on my own and the corridors were quiet, he would feel me up. He kept asking for my number but luckily I had the sense not to give it to him. I did give him my email address though and he added me on msn, and when he started talking dirty I would ignore him or block him. A few weeks had passed and it had all quietened down a little. I hadn’t seen the guy around school for a while and he had stopped harassing me. I was at the schools summer school for the gifted and talented. The top performing students from years 7, 8 and 9 would get invited to this summer school where we would do activities and get recognition for it. Some of the top performing year 6’s who were coming up into high school would also get invited, and the older students would become a buddy to these students. I remember one day, summer school had finished and me and one of my close guy friends were alone in the classroom together packing up some of the stuff for the teachers. I think we had been doing something quite art and crafty so there was a lot of mess. While we were tidying up, I looked out of the window to see a gang of boys walking by the design tech building, being lead by the guy who had been harassing me. They had no reason to be there, they had just walked on school property as the gates had been left open. I just ignored it, but I had clocked that he had seen me. My friend left the classroom to put something back in one of the other rooms, then when I looked up next, the guy who had been harassing me was standing next to me and had shut the classroom door. I was sat on a chair and then he started talking to me. I tried to be polite, but my heart was racing. He started saying things like “we’re all alone now” and “go on, touch my d*ck”. I just smiled politely, but then he started touching me in a place where I didn’t want to be touched. I grabbed his hand and threw it off me, but he continued to touch me. I shouted at him to leave me alone and vividly remember calling him “a sadistic pervert” but he started leaning over me. Although I was very strong and athletic, I couldn’t over power him and now I was leaning backwards awkwardly onto one of the tables. My back was hurting but I refused to lie on the table and was pushing him off me. Then thankfully, one of the teachers came back into the classroom to help me and my friend finish the clearing up. She told the guy to get off me and leave me alone, and that if and he his friends didn’t leave school property immediately she would phone the police. He and his idiotic friends left and she asked me if I was okay. I just said he had been harassing me and that I was okay. This shook me up, but I never told a soul about what had happened. Since the incident, the guy who was harassing me had spread round the school that I was a slag, gave him head and that I would suck any guys d*ck for free. This wasn’t the case and it upset me a lot. I had guys constantly harassing me for head and for sex, and would get groped in really inappropriate places. By this time at school, my behaviour had gradually deteriorated. I was a very smart, intelligent girl with excellent grades, was a form captain for the class and received awards from the headteacher (who is now a dame and is very important in advising changes to the curriculum). I was very sporty and represented the school in any sport that we did. I don’t know whether it was a mix of what I had experienced and teenage hormones (I also had racial abuse thrown at me as well as sexual comments) and that I just wanted to fight back. But anyone who crossed me would get a smack. I would also shout abuse at my teachers. Needless to say, I began to get into a lot of trouble at school and got into a lot of fights. By this point I was almost always on report at school and had been sent to inclusive learning a few times when I needed a time out. I was assigned a learning mentor, to discuss my behaviour and “problems” but I never co-operated. I got into several more fights and got suspended from school a few times. My parents were absolutely furious, they just didn’t know why I was behaving the way I did. I was now 13 and coming towards the end of year 8, and I had made a lot of friends in the year groups above me. I had made friends with this guy in year 11, and he would actually stick up for me when I received a lot of shit, and when I was yelling abuse at someone he would come and calm me down. He was a pretty good influence on me, or so I thought. We talked a lot on msn and via text message, but mostly on msn. There was a bit of harmless flirting and he genuinely made me feel really good about myself. I trusted him and thought he was a friend. As we got closer and closer, conversations began to get more sexual. If I am honest, it didn’t really bother me; I trusted him and liked him. I should have known better, but I thought I knew it all but in reality, I was extremely naïve. He had been pushing to meet up with me for a while. He had just left school and was revising for all of his exams. I was off school on half term and eventually I agreed to meet up with him. Only he asked if he could come to my house, as I would be home alone, so I agreed. He came round and we sat in my bedroom for a while talking, then one thing lead to another and the next thing I knew I was lying naked on my bedroom floor. If I am honest, I knew what I was there for and I had no objections to having sex. I consented. Then we started doing the dirty deed. I was in absolutely agony as I was a virgin, I didn’t like it and all of a sudden I felt really bad and wanted it to stop. I told him to stop but he didn’t. I thought he didn’t hear me, so I said it again but he carried on. Then other stuff happened but I won’t talk about it as it’s on the graphic side. After the deed, he asked me if I wanted to walk home with him. I was confused so I just agreed. It was an awkward silence then half way he decides that he’s changed his mind and wanted to walk home alone. He proceeded to shove his tongue down my throat, then walked off, leaving me stood there in the pouring rain, feeling absolutely helpless. As soon as I got back home, I had a bath and began scrubbing my skin until it bled but nothing could get the smell of him off me. I was sore too, and had to try and walk as normally as possibly around my parents, and act as normal as possible. When I went back to school after the half term break, everyone was talking about what a slag I was. They were all asking me if I had had sex with ******* and saying that I was a dirty slapper. I didn’t know how he had the cheek, then he started blaming me for the fact the whole school knew! I began shutting myself away in the study, night after night on the internet. I began self harming and cutting myself. Things got worse at school, my behaviour declined further and I was spending more and more time in inclusive learning. The sexual harassment got worse from people at school but I now began to block it out as much as possible. I was now having guys from school stalking me home (I lived a long way from my school, I used to walk there and back to keep my fitness up) and would try and get me in the park I walked by to stop and give them head. I ignored them and refused. They would still try and follow me, and I would often have to walk through the shopping centre a few times till they stopped following me, as I didn’t want them following me to my house. This is where I began stealing from shops, smoking and getting drunk before school. Life was pretty mundane. I was able to block out the sexual harassment and I would respond to the racial slurs by shouting abuse or giving someone a slap. The fights continued. I had police called on me a couple of times and got driven back to school when I had a brawl out of school. They never ever charged me with anything or arrested me though which was pretty good of them. Then one day I got into a slanging match with a black guy, who was perhaps in his late 30’s and I think was the dad of one of the pupils at my school. He was a nasty bastard. He started on this poor boy just because he was stood too close to his car. Refusing to see someone younger than me being bullied to tears by someone 3x his age, I asked him what the fuck his problem was, baring in mind I was only 14 myself at this point. It was horrible. We were shouting and screaming and I genuinely thought he was going to smack me one and he said if he ever saw me again he would come and “get” me. So the police came and diffused the situation as well as the teachers from school. I got taken home for my own safety and then the next day at school I got a talking to from my head of year and got sent to my learning mentor to talk about what had happened as they were worried about me. Then I had some more incidents with the guy who originally started harassing me, to the point where he was making gestures with a cream cake that I got so mad and shoved it in his face. My head of year of course, witnessed it all and she reined my arse in. So I told her that he had been harassing me and I had had enough and if she didn’t do something about it then I would continue taking things into my own hands. He got into some sort of trouble but it obviously didn’t do anything. I plodded on through life, and I actually started to try and knuckle down a bit and pick my school grades back up as they had really slipped. I was doing well in science, English, geography, music and Spanish and tried my best to pick my A grades back up. Then I found out my dad had got a job back up north and that I would be moving away. I didn’t know what to think. Although I had endured a lot of suffering, I did have a lot of friends and would miss them. This is when I figured out how damaged I really was. I moved away to a new town and a new school, and I began to suffer all over again. I spoke differently, acted differently and it was so hard to try and fit into everybody’s clique. I became very quiet and withdrawn, and sunk deeper and deeper into depression. It didn’t go unnoticed and I got bullied constantly. I missed my home, my friends and I was so lonely. So I tried to kill myself. If my parents hadn’t have found a couple of empty pill packets that I hadn’t managed to throw away, I probably would have succeeded. The amount I took was large and they thought I was acting very peculiar so they called an ambulance. I will never forget the look of sheer terror in their faces when they realised how bad things had gotten, and it broke my heart. The usual shit happened, had my body pumped with parvalex as I just got to hospital in the 8 hour window much to my dismay and stayed in hospital for a week while I recovered, as they were worried about my liver and there was talk of sending me to a specialist liver unit in Birmingham but it somehow recovered itself. I got seen by mental health, who were keen on sectioning me but my parents pleaded with them to keep me at home and have home treatment rather than go into a hospital, I co-operated and so did CAMHS. Eventually, the depression lifted with some quite intense help but I relapsed every now and again, and I have been struggling with things again since November 2010. I agree that everything that happened contributed to my poor mental health at the time, but why suddenly relapse so quickly and for the length of time it has. I haven’t really thought about it until recently when I started to think about it and place pieces to together. Have I just shut this to the back of my mind and not wanted to confront it? Was it abuse? Was it my fault? I certainly didn’t help situations, especially with my erratic behaviour. I have been in trouble with the police for shoplifting. I have had some things happen more recently which I think has contributed to everything, but none of it makes sense. Shouldn’t I be all depressed? Should my moods be as erratic as they are? How can I function so highly yet want to kill myself at the same time? How can I get so euphoric then so quickly become so agitated I want to get violent? Just, why? I don’t understand, none of it really seems to make sense.