I from a young age always took care of myself, my mom was there, but I raised myself and made my own rules, took myself to school, told myself to do homework, overall I had to do it myself. I was always moving around and bouncing from house to house never knowing when I was going to eat or where I was going to live, but that all ended when my mom decided she wanted to move to Washington and I had to stay in my hometown. I moved in with my grandparents and my grandma was and is the sweetest person alive, but my grandpa on the other hand... Not so much. The house was full and I lived with my other cousin I shared a room with her and we were like sisters. My grandpa favored my cousin, but to him, I was the black sheep of the family. I don't even know if he actually knew he was being mentally abusive, but he made it to where my safe spot was school. One of the memories that stand out is I didn't have time to wake up my cousin for school resulting in her oversleeping and missing school. He had to take me to school and I remember the whole trip to school he degraded my so much that when I finally got to school I jumped out of the car and had to fight to hold back the tears. That day I would say marked the day when I finally allowed myself fall into the hands of depression, but I couldn't be sure because the year before that I picked up the blade and used it to feel something other than numb. My aunt finally stood up and said enough was enough and everything was quiet, I wouldn't look at him nor talk to him, and he would do the same. Finally, relief when I came home it wasn't nearly as bad as it had used to be, but then my sister moved down. Everything was fine the first 6 months and then things went bad. She too started in on me and at the point, I was wondering was it me, I mean if two people told me I was all of these things than it had to be me right? I mean I should be dead right because I was told multiple times that I should die that I shouldn't be alive, so should I kill myself? That's all that ever ran through my head, should I kill myself? I was seriously contemplating it because I was being told I should die. I didn't know how to handle life anymore it felt like everyone was against me and I couldn't tell anyone about my problems. To this day my sister says things that I have to remind myself that her words don't matter. But it did get better because my writing gave me a getaway when all of these words were penetrating my brain and engraving themselves into my skin. It's not over its still a battle, but I'm slowing learning that I don't need anyone which I don't know if it is the right thing, but at this moment in my life everyone turns on me except my grandma... She's my light.

*Guys and girls I am sorry for the long wait, I was in hospital.*

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