I was sexually assulted at the age of sixe by my twelve year old cousin. At the time I didn’t know what to think of myself or him. He was telling me everything was going to be OK as he was feeling me up, kissing me and pulling down my pants. I got up and ran off, but funny enough didn’t tell anyone because I don’t want to cause shit between the family. So now when I see my cousin all the mememories come flooding back.
In year 8 I was nearly raped by my boyfriend at the time. My brother stopped him as he was about to hit me. It was scary because I really liked him but he just couldn’t take no for an answer. I told my brother not to tell my parents, because I didn’t want to start shit. So that was that.
Halfway during year 9 I started to cut myself. (Well my legs and sometimes my arms.) I couldn’t handle the pressure at school and at home. I couldn’t handle my friends putting me in the middle of their own shit and expecting me to sort it out for them. I was sick of being treated badly by guys who I thought were different than the others. (I was wrong there.)
The start of year 10 was weird but I didn’t think that I would come close to losing one of my mates who was basically family.
I am an unwanted person in this life, but somehow maybe one day I will get through all this pain and become myself again.
To this day I find it hard to cope with things but to my three best mates (you know who you are) I owe it to you that I am still here. Without you guys I don’t know where I would be.
Now if there are others like me or others that want to talk to someone, here’s my e-mail: email@example.com. Come and chat to me if you want to.
My name is Courtney and I’m fifteen. And to me this world is hell. Well, here’s my story:
When I was growing up I was having the time of my life until my cousin decided to change that. I was in my cubby out on the farm when my cousin came up to see what I was doing. Little did I know it was going to be the worst day of my life. He started to touch me and made me feel him and then locked the door on me and fingered me. I was so scared because I wasn’t sure what he was doing. All I knew was I didn’t like it. After he had finshed with me he told me not to tell anyone or he will kill me. Now every time I see him I am reminded of what he did to me and I am sure he remembers too. Also in my group of friends whenever there is a problem they all run to me and I am in the middle of everything. I am constantly fighting with my parents and I am under pressure at school. Also I have a friend who is suicidal and I love her to bits so she scares me when she nearly succeeds. I cut my legs and arm to release the pain continuously growing inside. My parents don’t know neither does my counsellor and they’re not going to find out. Well that’s all because I can’t tell you the rest of my depressing life. But thanks for reading.
All I ever wanted was for people to like me and for guys to love me. I wanted to be accepted but it never happened. I’m not really sure why I started hurting myself. I think I did it because it’s the only thing in my life I can ‘control’ even though sometimes I can’t control it. I do it to for so many reasons, because I’m angry or frustrated or depressed or unhappy. I do it to feel loved even though sometimes I hate myself for what I do. I started injuring myself a couple of years ago. It started out as small stuff like scratches on my hands and arms. Then I moved on to cutting myself, just enough so I would bleed a little, not enough to seriously injure myself. I would hurt myself when I got mad and instead of screaming or crying I would cut. I would get mad at my parents and then grab the first thing that I saw like scissors, a paper clip, a safety pin and occasionally a knife. Sometimes I would stab my hand with a tack just to see the little dots of blood. By the end of the 8th grade I had scars all over my hands and arms and with each one I had an excuse to tell people that questioned them. I think I hurt myself for attention but it never really worked. When I got to high school things didn’t get any better, but I found new ways to hurt myself. I would get so mad and frustrated I would hit my head against a wall or door frame or I would bite my arm or I would just cut little tiny cuts all over my body. I did this all to try and make the ‘hurt’ deep down inside me go away. My freshman year I also discovered sex it made me feel liked and sometimes even loved, but the feeling never lasted long. After having sex with guys I cared about them and thought that maybe they liked me, but I was always wrong. If a guy I had sex with wouldn’t talk to me or told me to leave him alone I cut. I also tried drugs and alcohol just to make myself numb so I couldn’t feel all the pain. There are so many things that trigger me and it’s killing me. I use the pain that cutting causes to cover up the hurt I have deep inside, but it never completely covers it up, it’s always still there.