I share my story, for anyone wondering if they cannot make it, for anyone hurting, for anyone who feels alone.

I will start with my childhood. I had a grandmother who loved me, and whom i loved greatly. My mother was never around much, and I did not know my father. I lived with my grandmother in my early years and my mother was enlisted in the Navy. She married a nice man she met in the navy while she was pregnant with my brother from a previous deployment whom he adopted. my mom switched to the reserves and my new dad was deployed. My new dad was ignorant and oppressive, children should be seen not heard, trying to employ discipline. he had a good heart, but ignorance is evil. I never remember truly feeling my mother loved me, or feeling much love for her, maybe its blocked off by now and i did once love her. Somewhere along the line, when I was about 8 years old she became very abusive. Nothing i could ever do was good enough to make her love me or want me. my childhood ended. i was ridiculed in front of friends, forced to watch while she gave them ice cream and told them how good they were in comparison to me while i was placed in a corner or hit. I soon had no friends except for at school. She wrote letters to my "dad", about how horrible and out of control i was. He came home with an iron rule. I was not listened to. I was no longer allowed to call him dad or her mom, it was sir or mam, or it was a beating if i forgot. He didnt believe in hitting in the face, but he would make me be naked from the waist down and grab my ankles. if i bent my knees it was more swats with a thick leather belt with metal embellishments. if i cried i would be given something more to cry about, if i tried to put my hand in the way or struggled. if my hands left my ankles. if i fell. if my mom told him i was talking back, if i tried to defend myself. He wouldnt let my mom hit me in the face, when he was there. Birthdays were a privilege i had to work for. as was any holiday. my grandmother was my saving grace.... she was my angel, even when she wasnt there i knew she would be back, until one day she came to me with tears in her eyes, asking me to go with her, my mom had birthed my two younger sisters by that time, my brother was about 5 and i was 11. i couldnt leave them, and it was my job to take care of all the animals, so i told her no. her car went off the road that day. i had never seen her cry... she was so urgent, even her dog acted strange when it came time to leave. She survived the wreck, but she died that day as she was never the same again in the hospital. she had given up. and she was all i had, and its very possible she killed herself. My parents fought daily, nightly, about sex, about anything. my mom took to being violent with him as well... and it was pretty much my job to make sure she didnt kill the baby, she would threaten, probably even have done it if i hadnt got there in time. she even jumped out the car when she was 8 months pregnant at 50 miles an hour . day in, day out, this was my life. wake up at 430 am. feed the animals. walk 1 1/2 miles to the bus stop, go to school, get home and do it again, then get yelled at or hit for not doing it right. I never fought back other than with words. I was picked on at school. i was dirty, same clothes for years. very socially awkward and unpopular. Since the very first time i started liking boys i was already co dependent. i wanted love so bad.
Parents divorced. My mom placed me in foster care when i was 13 to show me how the real world was and i opted to stay in the system. my mom regained full custody of me at 14/15. I had wanted to live with my now step dad, which eventually happened, but i ate last, i showered last, and i had to live outside in a trailer, which wasnt so bad as long as the weather was alright. by the time i was 16 i was in my first abusive relationship, the first one to almost kill me. He tried to get me pregnant, he would sneak up to me from behind trees he'd been spying and kick me in the head and make me go back to his house with him. He would pretend he was dying... and tell me he had a heart condition. i fell for it all. he never did anything for me but beat me and rape me. stalk me. I finally realized i needed help... i didnt know what to do i was so lost.. he would drink and pretend to pass out at the wheel into oncoming traffic, hold knives to my throat. i told my dad what he had done, and he said i could sleep on the couch for the night. I left the next day and quit school, to move in with another guy i had met through my job as a hostess in a mexican restaurant. he didnt speak english, but i thought he cared for me and said i could move in, so i left a whole city away to run from the stalker, thinking things were gonna be great now that i had this new person. he was a virgin so i thought that meant he was good character. It was ok for a year, then he broke up with me. I lived on the streets for a month in my car, keeping my job before i decided i would stay in my apartment with him til i figured shit out. we talked. seemed cool. the night ended with being held in a choke hold on the wall while he ripped off my clothes after unplugging all the phones from the walls and stealing my car keys. I was able to overpower him and get away.

then i enlisted in the army. things were good for a while. then of course, i met someone... and that ended with me leaving my career because i was so emotionally unstable. sure, i was having physical issues, but i could have finished my enlistment at least. that relationship ended after 3 years, in between that 3 i'm only lucky to be alive cause he stopped. i had no hope in overpowering him. I remember that so vividly, he had choked me to the point where i knew i was fading, felt my throat caving... all because he accused me of cheating on him and i woudnt leave him alone. truth was he was pissed cause he had another chick on her way and didnt think i would make it out and had to cancel. but the next day, he apologized and told me how much he loved me, and that he was sorry for losing control but the more a man loves a woman the more he gets angry. and i actually felt love, i remember him laying his head in my lap. i had just passed an ENORMOUS blood clot that was probably a miscarriage, and here he was, laying on my lap, my neck still so sore... and thinking he loved me. thinking i loved him, that i would do anything for him. i remember being willing to die, for him to kill me, to prove that i loved him and would never cheat on him. i cut off all friends and quit saying good morning to people so not to offend him. he finally got in military jail... and thats how that ended. I bounced from person to person.. abuse to abuse... the more suddle types of abuse did not register with me... i had to be almost killed before i realized i was in a bad relationship. i could have been killed at least 4 definite times in these relationships. I didnt know normal. i didnt know healthy. I didnt know i had full on PTSD.
After the birth of my daughter, of course to one of these douchebags i began college. i began to study psychology. I AM NOT A STATISTIC. I keep going... even if its backwards or in circles. It's either keep going or accept death. so i go. and i fight even when i cannot see what is in front of me and everything in me wants to lay down and let it go, let the darkness come, let it consume me. ive been on the edge of snapping, but i still hold on. After the last relationship that ended in near death, with my daughter seeing the evil that someone can do to me and the ptsd mind lost person i can become, i never want to be there again.

and finally, for the first time in my life, i think i just might find out what normal and happy is. I know how to stay alive, but now im going to live, and my daughter is going to have a life.