PTSD and depression???

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Hi, I have a story to tell, I don’t care if you like it I only need to tell it… First let me tell you a little bit about me, I am 13, my real name is not Kykie, I am a girl of course, and I am mentally messed up, or so I’ve been told. I guess the first bad thing that happened, happened when I was only four, a guy my family loved and trusted, a guy I loved and trusted started sexually assaulting me (I think that’s what they ended up charging him for), this continued up until I was about 11. Nobody noticed… Probably because nobody wanted it to be true. I wasn’t the only one that got touched by him so did my two cousins but he did the most with me, he even kissed me and told me he loved me… Honestly I thought I loved him too, I liked everything he did even when I knew it was wrong I still liked it, I actually wanted more. One night when he kissed me, I was he one that kissed him again and again. Even though my cousins told me multiple times he was bad news I didn’t listen. When the police came around because someone finally noticed I didn’t tell them everything he did… I didn’t want too, I still wanted more from him I thought he was still a good guy. I still remember what he did, setting me on his lap and touching me, even though I knew it was wrong I never refused I never even wanted him to stop… Two weeks after his arrest there was a death in the family we all knew it was coming, stage 4 brain cancer. Then nothing everything was quiet everyone treated me like a porcelain doll, fragile. Honestly, my past didn’t and doesn’t affect me but everyone else thinks it does, probably because to everyone that knows about this I act like an actual victim, like he scared me, and hurt me, like I thought everything was bad but really he never once frightened me. Then after everything settled my brother started acting out. He stared out with just smoking a little but of pot and drinking every once in a while but then everything turned around. My brother started getting aggressive getting into bad fights with my dad and attacking my mom, even hurting my siblings and me I was his first target. He stole my whole life savings from me, almost 900 dollars, that’s when I didn’t trust him anymore he did that and then I knew he doesn’t care about his family anymore, he was 15 and only cared about himself and his friends. Somewhere in that time I started cutting, and messing around with guy after guy. I didn’t actually sleep with anyone until I was about to turn 13 this year, but before I started sleeping around a bit I was doing other sexual stuff. I know it’s gross because I am so young but I felt like that was all I could do it was like it was wired into my brain, plus I have always felt older than I actually am. And to guys I was an easy target I cut, I was depressed, still am just not as bad. When I cut though I actually feel better and some people understand that and some don’t. My current boyfriend has been my longest relationship, we’ve been together for 2 months and I haven’t really done anything with him, especially since we are in different states, which is hard but we can make it. I think the reason I messed around with guys so much was I wanted to feel wanted even if it was bad, and I felt like that is what I need to do. So I told guys I was 15 or 16 and then it took off from there. My depression sky rocketed, I have attempted suicide 25 times and got caught once on an OD. I was sent to inpatient and stayed for 2 weeks, almost got sent to residential, but instead I stayed the maximum amount at inpatient and then they released me. I was put into therapy and I had to see a psychiatrist, who gave me depression meds, strong ones too. I decided to quit going and quit taking my medications cold turkey which had horrible side affects but I got over it. I’ve felt better recently I have been put into high-school AP classes after testing out for it,my brother is in drug and alcohol rehab (court ordered after not doing his probation), my boyfriend has helped A LOT (He also used to cut so kinda had an idea on how I felt), yet sometimes at least once or twice a day I still think just one cut won’t hurt, or if I was dead who would really care but in the end everyone dies might as well attempt to live miserable moments and make up for all of the stupid stuff I have done. So I guess that’s pretty much the parts of my life everyone actually finds somewhat interesting and I guess that’s what everyone sees me as… I mean they can only judge me for what they know which isn’t a lot so…


A reader