I dont know where to start. I dont know how to describe my life briefly, so I guess i will try to make it as short as possible. When i was born, I was developmentally delayed as a result of being sick since my birth mom was addicted to drugs when she had me. As soon as i got better, I was put in a foster home, and moved around to so many different foster homes until the age of 5. Thats when i got adopted. Me and my brother moved into the home and things were all peachy for 2 years. Unfortunately, that didnt last long. The yelling started. Then the cussing. Then the slaps. Then the name calling. Then the throwing of sharp objects. Then..the beatings. Oh God did i hate those. The belts and extension cords came out. Even the coat hangers. My brother and i lived in misery there for 7 and a half years. When we came to school wth welts all across our bodies, black eyes, and bruises..wht did we say? We made up excuses. I ran away a lot and took my brother with me just to get away for a few hours since we had no where to go. So we went back. Got molested in the 6th grade by my own cousin, and by his friend who were much older than me. I met this guy named Diontre when i was 12, who i thought was my best friend. Too bad he was 25 years old. No one had taught me about the dangers of relationships or friendships with older guys. So Diontre was my friend. I talked to him about everything. One day he scared me because he forced me to do somethng i didnt want to do with a gun pressed against my head. The next day he apologized, and i FORGAVE THE BASTARD. A couple months later, me and Diontre got in an argument on the street, and he got mad and dragged me into an alley, grabbed the nearest brick and hit me in the head with it, knocking me unconscious. I still have the scars today. After i finally recovered, months passed by and the night before my birthday came. I was excited because i was going to hang out with my best friend. I never got to hang out with my friend. Diontre came in my room and took my virginity that night against my will. I stayed in my room for a couple weeks without coming out for anything. No food, water, showers…nothing. I was in shock.Cried until i couldnt anymore.Then curled up in a ball on my bloody sheets. The only person that came to check on me was my beloved brother. I didnt speak for months. A few months passed and social services finally got enough sense to pt us in a foster home. I was suicidal, and overdosed so many times that I became skinnier than before. I cut my skin with razors and glass. I tried to hang myself. I did so many suicidal attempts..too mayn to count. I got put in group homes, hospitals and residentials. Acutes as well. was hopeless. I still am. I moved around a lot, and that made me even more depressed. My diagnosises are : ADHD, PTSD, bipolar, depression, anxiety, chronic tick disorder.. I try to not let them define me. But its hard. This is my life. This is what i was and still am. Full of pain