My background and story

I had originally planned to do this particular post in multiple sections, but i realised that this blog is for me to vent my current feelings, not to talk about my past. I have split this post into different sections.    -E.

About me.
I might be different from most people with my difficult past and quiet mannerisms, but that doesn't stop me from having a dream. And as far as dreams go, I'm slowly on my way to accomplishing it.

I study public services at college. This means I am able to partake in fitness classes, learn about what I'm passionate about and take those first steps towards achieving my goal. Because, despite everything that has happened to me, my dream is to make the world a better place. And not just that, I dream of becoming an officer.

I think that people who commit crimes for no reason other than to pleasure themselves are the lowest of the low; but though they sometimes make me feel like committing pleasure-crimes of my own, I also think that they deserve their second chance. People that have heard me say this usually say I should be looking for revenge after everything I've been through, but hatred and revenge only sparks more hatred. And I can't move on if I spend the rest of my life hating someone I'll never know.

And realising this is somehow the best feeling in the world.

Primary school
In total, I went to three primary schools. I don't remember the first school because I was six when we moved. My mother and sister and I were moving to get away from my father, who is a mental case and remains his isolated, crazy self even now, ten years later.

In my second primary school, I experienced the first event that made me different to the other kids. I was being bullied by a teacher. She would set extra homework for me, then ridicule me when I couldnt finish. She would put on films for the other kids, but make me sit with my back to the board, copying from the dictionary. She would make me stand against a wall every playtime and lunchtime, no matter how cold it was, and encourage the other kids to play in front of me. Eventually I rebelled completely, and stopped doing homework since she couldn't do anything worse when I didn't. Of course, I was wrong. One day she set up a trip to Llandudno. Naturally I expected her to tell me I'm not allowed to go, but she instead told me that I could go if I did my homework on the coach there and back, and when the other kids went to the beach. My mother took me out of school the day before the trip.

My third primary school was about the same as any other, but I was socially anxious and was bullied by the other kids because I was overweight. When I left that school, I was glad to be going to secondary. Bit that excitement didnt last long.

Highschool
High school was essentially the making of me. While I was there I met the person who I now strive to make proud, and I found someone that I can still call a friend now, even if we don't talk much. But at the same time, came an event that changed who I was forever, and would stick with me for the rest of my life. The incident.

The incident.
That's what I've taken to calling it. what I'm referring to is the second event that's made me different from other people. The night I was raped.
I'd been in high school for a few months by that time, and though there were still bullies I was settling in pretty well. I was visiting somebody I considered a friend in primary, but had separated from to go to different high schools. I'd forgotten the time so it was just starting to get dark. It was winter so that happened pretty early. The journey I had to take home was through a park, and since it was getting dark the place was basically deserted. When I set out the sun was still up, and there was plenty of light for me to see by. As I walked my mind wandered too far from my surroundings. Before I realised it the sun had almost set, and I was walking through the darkest part if the park. I don't remember too much after that, but I know I was hit on the head, forced to the ground and violently raped. The pain... that pain has haunted me since it happened. I relive it night after night in my dreams, the mere memory of it cones tumbling at me full-force when i feel something even remotely similar. I will never forget that feeling, when an absolute stranger took away something so important to me.

That's when the cutting started too. The pain from the cuts would make me forget about that horrible memory, even if only for a while. When arguments happened in my family, that helplessness I felt when *it* happened comes flooding back, and I lash out. It'd tear me apart afterwards, and it's those times that made me try to commit. Unfortunately  (or fortunately depending on how you look at it) every overdose never worked, and I'd just spend a night chucking up.