I want to tell you my story and if anyone can relate or not feel alone then I have at least accomplished something..I am diagnosed BPD, MDD, GAD and CPTSD. My story contains graphic information about my life, suicide, sexual abuse, physical abuse, rape and love so please only read if you are not in a bad space and know that you are not alone.

I grew up in a relatively normal family and I'm saying relative because at the age of 7 we were a family that had evening dinners together, bedtimes and going to school just normal..until it all exploded. 

I was at home from school because I got out of the hospital from an emergency appendix operation. My father and i was playing pinball on one of those old consoles where you blew on the cartridge to make it work. We received a call and my father went to answer and I followed, for some reason I didn't believe him when he said he is just going to the bathroom after that phone call . I was 9 years old. I followed him...I saw him load the gun and started running screaming no when he pulled the trigger, half his head gone blood everywhere and his body just kind of sunk to the floor. He was lying there half alive still even after what just happened only able to gurgle on his own blood trying to grasp at breath that a ruined body wouldn't allow. I lost a full year of memory after that I can't remember a thing for an entire year it's just blank I only recently found out from my mother that the time frame between when that happened and what I remember next was a year. I remember him shooting himself and then it went to us moving into a new house. a Year...

When my father died everything came out he was sexually abusing my sister and he was basically a paedophile. He was a monster that lurked behind a mask. My sister was taken away by the state. I didn't see her again for many years. My mother couldn't cope financially with 3 children and I was sent to live with so many random people, Aunt, our pastor,a random family I didn't know ( I ran away from there in the middle of the night wanting to go to my mother age 12 ) I ended up between 9 different families from the age of 11 till 14. I lived a life of deep poverty sometimes not eating for days or only having a slice of dry bread to eat for the entire day.

At age 14 I went to go live with my mother and I met this amazing boy age 18 at the time. We were living in a caravan park. Trailer home to say it like that. He liked me and I thought he loved me it didn't take long for my mother to speak to his parents and for me to live with them and she left for a different city . That's when I found out they were not your average family his parents would get drunk and his father would beat me and his mother and soon he started beating me as well...I didn't have anywhere to go I didn't know where my mother was or how to even contact her( cell phones weren't out then ) I lived with that man for 10 years having a baby at 18. I lived through immense physical abuse and sexual abuse. My sweet 16 was him choking till I passed out and me waking up to be tied to the bed with my legs splayed open. I ended up getting 16 stitches from the round hair brush he used on me that day.

I finally got away after 10 years of hell and torture so many broken ribs and arms, blue eyes you name it. I had it. I took my son and I ran. I had to plan it for weeks to do it and finally did it. I was free...

I got caught up in drugs and they would numb the pain from it all. I went dancing and partying  whenever I could so I can get high, until I went to a club one night where a guy and his friends didn't like the fact that I wasn't friendly enough with them. They waited for me in a dark spot and grabbed me 7 of them, I remember my underwear being pushed into my mouth to keep me quiet and they all had their turn. I gave up fighting half way through and went into a different space in my mind,  just let them finish and get up was what I told myself . I got up from there and they were laughing as if nothing just happened. I took my broken body home completely sober crawled up in the bath and I cried for 5 hrs straight. I didn't have anyone to tell about what happened I didn't have anyone to talk too. ....I knew something was wrong when I started throwing up. I was pregnant. I went to the hospital and got a pregnancy test done to just confirm what I already knew. They did all the other tests as well and I was hiv negative and no std' s. My thoughts at that time, I was lucky.....I decided to have an abortion because I wouldn't be able to raise that child financially or emotionally. It was the most painful thing I've ever experienced. 

I got off the drugs and started looking after my son I had alot of ups and downs from there on out. I had another son with a bf which was not planned and it didn't take long for me to break up with him. During our relationship I tried to commit suicide and took 180 sleeping tablets. I was found after planning it for weeks. I didn't tell anyone and I was found. I woke up in hospital high as a kite and everyone looking bright orange.

 I had 2 sons and I'm a single mother. What am I supposed to do.

I started to pull myself together not for my sake but for theirs and started fighting. I wanted to be there for them even though I battle this inner demon on a daily basis screaming at me to just take my own life get it done with.....I struggled on.

I met an amazing man who love those 2 boys as if they are his own. Who went through 5 years of hell with me before I got diagnosed. We are going on 6 now and he is sticking with me through all the difficulties, all the ups and downs,  all the mood swings and rages. He knows about my history and accept me for me with all my flaws and problems.  

Life can be hell, but it doesn't stay that way. Have hope and keep fighting guys be strong and love yourself even when it feels like no one else does. I love you. This community loves you. You are unique and beautiful in every aspect. I am fighting. WE ARE FIGHTERS that's why we are still here. 
