I was born from a meth head, alcohol mama and daddy. They split when I was barely two. My mom quit doing drugs and drinking when she left my dad. I started living with my dad and my grandparents. My aunt lived in the house next to us and my uncle lived in a camper out behind us on 50 acres of land. I stayed with my mom on the weekends.
A year later, my mom started dating this other man. He malested me. I had to go to counseling until I was 9 years old. Oh, and I started living with my mom when I turned six, but visited many times at my dads/grandma's.
I was a weird child growing up. I didn't have many friends. I had a bad tempor.
Around third grade my aunt moved to Alabama, my grandparents moved to another house, and my uncle moved too. So, that 50 acres of land was occupied my my dad, even though he was rarely there bacashe he worked off shore. So, all of my family was moving away. It was weird because I was so used to all my family living on that 50 acres of land.
When I was almost eleven, I went to my grandparents. My dad was back in town from rehab. And I was so excited to see him. We had planned to sleep in my princess tent inside my room. I didn't want to so I went to sleep with my grandma. My dad came back from the grocery store and found me not sleepi g in the tent. He told me I had hurt his feelings. The next day, around noon I was playing with my Bratz. My nana went to check on my dad because he was "still sleeping". She found him purple face on his knees in a praying position. Dead.
I cried and cried. All I thought was that he had just gotten sober. He hadn't stopped doing bad stuff. The las thing he said to me was that I hurt his feelings..
At his funeral, I didn't cry instead, I wanted to have a good time with Taylor and my cousin. I was young I didn't take it seriously.
Years past on. I was 13. I became atheist. I started blaming God for my dad dying for me being unhappy. I because classified as goth and emo at school. I didn't like that classicication.
After I started high school, I started going to this church because my boyfriend wanted me to come there.
I continued going there. I liked it there. I started believing again. But once I was a Christian again, I never thought god would love or accept me again because of me being an atheist in my past. I started cutting myself. Mostly because I like people feeli g sorry for me for some stupid reason. People noticed the cuts. I didn't like how they reacted. My mom found out. She took me back to my old counselor. I begged her not to take me back.
I got out of my emo phase and started becoming pretty. Well, most people thought I was. I didn't really believe. I look in the mirror and I don't see anything I like. I'll just sit there and point out everything that's wrong with me. Anyways. I also got saved and baptized with my bestfriend/stepsister.
Things were great. I was being a good Christian until I just snapped. I was tired of having to control my cursing, my gossiping, my lying. I got tired of trying to be perfect. And now I'm ba k to where I was before. I'm not atheist or anything or cutting myself. I'm just extremely unhappy and unsay gifted with my life. I write poems of how I wish I would die. I over react I Ed little things. Stupid things. Like if the guy I secretly love doesn't text me back, I assume he's mad at. And I think about killing myself. Then, I just think about how stupid and dramatic I'm being.
I'm glad I got this off my chest. I feel like I have no one to talk to. Feel free to leave a comment.
