Rock Bottom

I feel like I should start from the beginning and just get it all out; or at least attempt to. So let’s start from the beginning.

When I was thirteen I thought that it was okay that my dad hit me. I guess because he wasn’t beating me I thought that it was normal and it didn’t matter. That was about the time that he started being overly controlling. He told me who I could and couldn’t see and what I could and couldn’t do. But I guess I thought that was okay because I didn’t know any different.

When I was fourteen I started experimenting with self harm. It started with burns and then scratches and then lead into slitting my arms and legs with razor blades. I guess that seemed okay because it meant that I didn’t have to think about the fact that I wasn’t like other girls; I wasn’t allowed to go to the mall or have sleepovers or even go to innocent parties. So I cut myself to get away from the pain.

When I was fifteen I started to drink. My parents had found out about me cutting myself and were doing routine arm checks. So I use to steal the alcohol from their well stocked cabinet and drink until I could go to sleep. It was at the same time that they pulled me out of school for wagging and smoking pot. So when I was fifteen I also use to go on walks at night by myself. When I was fifteen I was raped.

When I was sixteen I left home. I ran away and I never looked back; but that was also the first stage of my substance abuse. I would drink and pop pills until I passed out just to make myself feel a bit better about my life. When I was sixteen I lost all of my friends.

When I was seventeen I got myself together. When I was seventeen I also got pregnant. I changed my life and started a new one to work around my daughter. I cleaned myself up and I thought that life was finally sorted.

When I was eighteen my happiness fell apart. I was drinking more and sleeping less. I moved and started working again as well as being a single mother, and then at eighteen I thought that all of the bad shit was over and I had found someone that I could settle down with. They turned out to be a psycho and sent me back into a spiral of drinking and drugs.

Now I am nineteen and I am more fucked up then I have ever been. I am an alcoholic who doesn’t sleep and I can only make myself feel better by fucking any guy that comes my way. I am on the verge of a break down and I don’t know if I am going to make it through tomorrow or not. I am at the point where I know that I need help but I don’t know where I should be looking for it.

But starting tomorrow I am going to start making a plan to get my shit sorted. I need to for me. This is rock bottom. I am finally there. It is only up from here.


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