To be honest, I'm a little bit hesitant to post this for a variety of reasons.. but there is virtually nowhere to go with this but this group, and I know that many of you have probably gone through similar issues, and even if you haven't, I know you will understand why and how I am feeling.
First, thank you for taking time to read this. Just knowing that people care enough to even look at this makes a difference for me. The hardest part of beginning my treatment was actually admitting that something was wrong.

So.. the story goes like this: At 12 years old, my family found out that my mom had cancer. She was comatose in our home after complaining of headaches for a few weeks.. she was in stage four to begin with and really, she never progressed to get any better. She simply stayed that ill for about four years until she passed away when I was 16. Through out that time, my step father was mentally abusing her. The problems, according to him, stemmed from me. Let me insert right here that my dad has never cared for me and wasn't around during this time. So, I felt that I had a duty to try to protect my mom: she was all I had! I tried to get in the way, I tried to yell at him, I tried to swing at him a few times and resulted in being pushed, shoved, etc. He tried to have me arrested for various unfounded things, and he tried to get my family to agree to kick me out.

WHILE all of that was happening, I was already depressed and cutting nearly daily. I developed anorexia after a time (in combination with my sexual abuse). Then, at 15, I got my first boyfriend. He was a charming boy I met at church and I felt safe with him.

The safety didn't last long at all. He first started to be manipulative.. I sort of saw the red flags before anything more serious happened and I ignored them because I "loved" him. Slowly, I was isolated from all of my friends, and I lost nearly all control over boundaries. I basically went to school, went home, and on the weekend went to church. He began to show up at my house literally every day after my parents tried to set restrictions on how much I saw him. That made it worse.

By the time we were together for 8 months, he started sexually abusing me. I was extremely clear that I wanted to save sex for marriage. He told me he wanted the same thing.

I think I really did love him. For what other reason would I have dealt with everything he did to me? I was in some sort of delusion that love changed the world and love would change both of us. It never did. Needless to say, I don't love him now. I would say it's the opposite. I've always been very scared about what someone is going to say to me when I say that I was a teenager who was sexually abused by someone close to my age. He was just a few years older and I feel like there's a stigma that teenagers all want sex. I wish I'd never gone near any boy.

I've moved hundreds of miles away from my family now to be in college, and I am a sophomore. After a lot of therapy and hospital visits, I'm getting a lot better but I find myself struggling from time to time. This past week or two is one of those down moments and so that's why I typed this all out... mostly to just get this out. If you managed to read all of this, thank you.