Hello, I'd like to take the opportunity to open a safe space for anyone to openly vent any/all of their traumatic past experiences. A place where, you can be as honest about your personal pain, and a place to open up and tell a bit of your story to other people where as you've never had the opportunity to do so otherwise. I know that everyone goes through their own tribulations, and a lot of the time, they're unable to express what's weighing on their hearts or their minds because of the fear of speaking out of turn. I'd like to open the channel for that communication, so that we may better invest as a whole in our peers, our site, and our Dollars community. Thank you for taking the time to listen, I'll start with my story:

When I was born, I was an unwanted birth. So my mother, when I was no more than a year old, had set her apartment on fire and thrown me into it with the intent to kill me. It failed, and I was placed in foster care. She had done a lot of drugs while I was in her belly, so I had emotional issues that a lot of people could not understand, let alone control. I would go into wiring black-out rages and have very deep temper tantrums, and the only reason for it was because, I thought that I was going to die at the age of five. So they put me on over 1,000 lmg of lythium to control these moods of mine, but the only thing I did was take away my ability to think. I'd walk around in a state of over-dose for months at a time and I was forced to operate through my day while my whole body felt like spongy jelly that was falling to the ground. I was.. mistreated growing up. My mother put locks the outside of my door because she never felt safe with me in the house, so often, I'd come home from school and my room was a cellar. It had no lights, it was a bare room that only had a bed and a desk. Nothing more and nothing less. I'd sit in the dark for hours every single day. My brother would often come in and rape me. This happened everyday from when I was five years old, and until I was 15. I remember at a certain point, he'd bring his friends in and force me to suck their dicks. Otherwise, they'd beat me until I could feel my legs anymore. So, every so often, after he was done doing what he wanted with me, he'd bring his friends in and they'd pass me around, teach taking a turn with me. So at 16 I left my home. I was a homeless teenager, and I was often trying to kill myself, but each-time I failed, i would black out and wake up int he mental hopistal. I remember being there at least 20 times from the time I was in 6th grade to the time that I became an adult. I've had a lot of friends kill themselves, the one guy, jumped off a three story building right in front of his father and myself. Another shot-himself in the head and I had to watch him do it. I've had friends murdered. One was shot, one was stabbed, one was hung and the one had been curb stomped to the point that his eye-ball fell out of his socket, and I was being held down watching this take place, before they took my own head and bashed it into a street sign until I was laying unconscious in a pool of my own blood. They shattered the rim of my right eye and that's why I have to wear glasses now. I rememeber that being a homeless teenager, I would often starve and I had to resort to crime to survive, during the winter I had to sell my own body for a place to sleep. Often, purform humuliating sexual acts for people. I rememeber I've beed tied up, bound, gagged, chained to a wall, locked in a basement. Just because I wanted to stay warm during the winter. Any girlfriend I had, only cheated on me with my best-friends. I remember after a time, I had been in with a certain maifa, because I needed money to eat. They'd give me a list of names and their address, and they'd send me to go wash my hands of them, to do their dirty work, they'd give me money and drugs so that I could keep performing these acts. My hole life has been nothing but fighting, wanting to die and looking for love that will not come. I remember, I've had my finger cut off by a rusty chain, I've been stabbed, I've been shot at, I've drown and I've been found, cornered, gagged, thrown in a trunk of a car and when they threw me out they beat me with baseball bats. and now I'm out here, I'm disowned by my family, I don't really have any friends and, I still want to die. I know that guys like me will never find love, and that I'm stupid enough to fight for a chance with anyone at all. People still call me crazy, they don't like me. They know how I am. I could be popular if I was not the way that I am. But, people are scared to interact with me too closely, because they know that I'm bound to snap like I always do.

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to suffer with me this tale, please, feel free to tell your own, and I'm sorry for taking the moment of your time.

Bump.
I find things like this important.

Thank you so much.

It was in sixth grade my life began fall apart. When my mother had filed for a divorce from my father, I never liked my dad (my siblings felt the same way) because he did weird things that I didn't really understand. He'd take me into his room to punish me, and make me sleep with him. He would hurt me for the smallest things, like my dog barking. One time when he was sleeping I accidentally dropped a glass(it had made a loud noise the woke him), he came out and made me stand in the rain as punishment, I had gotten a really bad cold.
But anyways after my Mother had filed for a divorce she refused to have sex with him. This caused a huge fight, and instead of calling the cops he ended it by walking out. A week later he had snuck back in and told me to give my mother this meal he had made to 'make up'. I did as I was told and it turned out to be drugged. He then proceeded to drag her out of the house and rape her, out where no one could see. A day later he came back, and she had forgotten everything.
This continued on for a year or so, him raping her-her forgetting, until one day that is. My sister had snuck out to go meet with her boyfriend, and got caught on her way in. She got in a fight with my father, and threatened to tell what he had been doing. I was sleeping at the time, and was awoken by a loud crash, then my sister running into my room. She grabbed my hand and we ran out of the house. She explained to me that dad had raped her, and all this time she was hiding it. My mom hadn't called the police, instead we had left to go stay in a hotel for the next couple of days.
On our way there they had asked me if he had ever touched me, I knew that if I said anything that everything would be ruined forever. Eventually I couldn't breath at all, everything was spinning out of control.It was like the world was flying out from underneath me. I tried to talk but everything shut down, my mouth wouldn't move, and I couldn't even form a coherent thought. My sister had told me that I was acting like a drone. I was naming the color of cars as they passed, and singing random songs. When the ambulance arrived to the hospital they said it was a harsh anxiety attack, and that they would have to get me checked to a psych ward. I was taken to this place where kids just like me stayed in hospital beds, and took therapy lessons everyday. It was for two weeks and all, honestly I don't remember one second of it.
After I was checked out I had learned that my father was also in a hospital. He had slit one of his main artery vains in attempt of suicide. There was bloodstains everywhere. just big pools of dried blood stained the carpet, and the metallic smell was nauseating. I tried to through up in the toilet but the bathroom floor was to sticky with dried blood to get across.
My siblings and I spent a good eight hours cleaning the house, as my dads mother taunted us. A 67 year old granny constantly blaming us for her sons close encounter with death, was just too much (she had been living with us at the time-my mother was a generous person) so we had rented her an apartment to live in-only to have her take our laptop.
Now three months later, I still have a stutter and intense anxiety attacks whenever I get reminded of that day- or even talk about it.
The good thing is that my father's in prison, and is serving a sixty year sentence- for other crimes when they began to investigate him. The court had dropped my case, and only accepted my sisters case. This bothers me a little bit, but I rather not talk about it to anyone. He still tries to talk to my little brother, and try to get him to convince us to drop the case. My mother works seven days a week, ten hours a day, as my older siblings work too. We can't pay for anything, and rarely have two meals a day. All because of one person, one person who couldn't keep their mouth shut. That would of course be me, I take full responsibility for everything thats happened, and understand that somehow I have to make it up to everyone.
I hadn't had that panic attack, we would still be able to pay for electricity, and all that. Honestly I still can't bear to look anyone of my family members in the eye after what had happened. Even more so my little brother, who was closest to my father and still sends him letters in prison.
I just feel like a piece of shit person, that doesn't deserve anything that they get. I ruined seven lives, and I just can't deal with most things.

So yeah, this was my little venting bullshit, most people wont even read the first part, which is completely understandable. I wouldn't either, also sorry for the cussing, it just gets emotions across more clearly.

Just remember that no matter what, someone doesn't want you to die. There is always one person who doesn't want you to get hurt. I may not understand most of these horrible things, but I do know that putting yourself down won't help anyone. Don't give up on life, and believe in yourself and what you can do.

>>4 You are amazing.