Lali's Tears.....

                   





                      Alright as a child I had a perfect religious (Catholic) family growing up. I was an only child so I was spoiled too. Though my father had us moving from house to house. It was basically a new house every year or so. Usually more. I learned to adapt and not grow attachments at a young age. I would often experiment with other female classmates. Along with one other guy classmate. I had done everything but straight sex by fourth grade. (ashamed face here). One day my cousin came over. We ran up to a room upstairs to play some type of fighting game. Among playing he pinned me down to the floor. Began to bring his face closer to mine. I paniced and ran. I ran into a closet to hide. He followed and gained contol again. I black out. I don't remember what happened after that. It remains a mystery. After that however I gradually began to hallusinate. Sometimes

                  I would hear voices. Rarely though. By the winter of fourth grade, we lost our house. My mom moved herself, myself, my sister, grandfather, and grandmother to a small town near Boston, MA. We lived there for about a month. I was a loner. I grew no attachment to anyone, even when I tried. I couldn't. As if I was incappable.
            
                 A month latter we moved to a small town near Napa, CA. My mom worked most of the day. My cousin who I had a previous bad experience with while "wrestling" would tell me to shut the fuck up on a day to day bases. His sister would physically hurt my sister. He would watch porn while I sat next to him and closed my eyes. One day he practically forced me to watch. I felt like a disgrace. Summer came. I went to Mexico with my grandmother. It was nice. Simply me seeing my family. Heaven. Life was perfect. Then the school year was starting back up. I was about to be a fifth grader! Life was normal. It was what you saw on a disney film. Just I lived in an apartment, haha. Though I still felt dirty. I felt used. I began to become depressed over time. I discovered the more depressing music. As if they took the words out of my mouth. I began to become suicidal. I would draw and write a hundred things about how I wanted to kill myself.
 
                 6th grade came. Nothing changed. My depression became worse.My psychotic fetures became worse. I would become delusional. Thinking I was a vampire, that lasted for a few months. My mood began going up and down. Days I was just a ball of fun and other I simply wanted to kill myself. Then a girl began to make fun of those dealing with depression. I told her to shut up. She said something that I will never forget. "I'm going to kill you". My very first death threat- but not the last.

                 She came up to me and lied to my face. Everything else was perfectly calm. After that it was as if everyone moved on. 7th grade came. People I didn't even know came up to me and called me a whore. Useless. Fake. I was beinng verbally harassed. It didn't stop there. I got multiple treats. I started getting text from random numbers who would tell me very rude, bad sexual comments, wishes of my death, etc. The harassment got worse. It soon became sexual harassment. They would say sexual comments and touch me over my clothes. As did my depression. I began to cut. One day the school found my cuts. They forced me into therepy due to suicidal ideation and self harming. It helped to no extent. My dad began to become violent. He would get violent to the point where the cops would have to be called. Though that was it, I have to put up with it. To this day I do. My mental disorders still went untreated. They only got worse. As time went on, my mother decided to move me to Los Arboles.

                 Fresh start. I was a loser at first. I still cut and burned. Just less than before. Some harasment followed me, though not as much. Though the family fights where still there. I still went untreated. Older guys still came to me and tried to use me for sex. I had no one to talk to. 8th grade came. I swore no matter how fake I became, I would achive popularity. I would be someone people cared about. I would not show who I really was. A sick twisted pathetic human. Everything was fine. I came out, no trouble. The year was perfect. Though, in November the family fights got worse. Help was denied. It wasn't till I attempted to run away that they took me to a simple doctor. I was perscribed Prozac. 50ml. I began to self injure again and my mother took me off my anti-depressants/anti-anxiety. The year went on and I still cut. I debated whether to attept suicide though. March came. I almost attepmted. What stopped me? My parent's walked in on me as I was about to take the pills. I was forced it bed till I fell asleep. April came. Another family fight, but worse. My parents found out about my attepmted murder 7 months ago. The cops where called. I was taken to the E.R.. I was hospitalized, taken to Sutter Institution for psychiatry. They diagnosed me with anxiety and a mood disorder. I kept shut about my psychosis. A week later I smoked weed. Two weeks later, in the middle of class I began to hear voices. See thing. I couldn't take it. They had to shut up. I had a break down. I was once again on a 50150 hospitalized. Taken to the same place. They said my psychosis was so bad it would be the beggining stages of scitzophrenia. If not really bad psychotic major depression. I was put on anti-psychotics. Now, I am on home hospital.