my (basically) full life story
When I was born my mother was 18. My father was 20 or so, and deployed in the military. My mother and father divorced due to his actions towards me when I was born. Shortly after, he married my step mother. My mother was not prepared to be a mom and my father was still deployed, so I was "handed over" to my step mother. She was the only one who believed in Christianity, and so she handed me over to my pastor for guidance and he named me Natania. He named me Natania because it means "Gift of God and he told my step mother that no matter what happens, she must never forget that I am a gift from God and she must be patient with me.*
My step mother raised me for a couple years, and when I was about two my father got out of the military and took a try at raising me which didn't work out. He never cooked anything except rice even if we had enough money for other things, he refused to buy me clothes if I needed some, and used innaporpriate punishing methods, so, my step mother took over again. When I got a little older I started asking about my mom. When I asked my step mother pushed me, ripped up the picture of her and yelled that my mother is a Bword, so I never asked again. Shortly after my father and step mother got divorced and my mother got half custody of me because my father realized he couldn't raise me on his own. Both parents were very poor, and my mother had to file bakruptcy. From very young I was in and out of therapists because of the punishment methods my father liked using. None if them helped and eventually I just refused to talk to therapists. The only person I talked to was my doctor. Eventually DHS started coming to my school to ask me questions. Nothing happened. My father got married to my 2nd step mother, and my mom got married to my step father. My 2nd step mother was alright, but she would yell at me and hit whenever something bad happened. My step father was a drunk and on drugs, and had a bad temper. When he got mad he would throw beer bottles and chairs at me. There were two incidents that really got to me. I woke up in the middle of the night and got up to get some water, and my step father was on the couch acting like I didn't exist and he was screaming at the air. Another time, I woke up to screaming, and sat in bed curled up. Eventually I started hearing banging, screaming, and crying. I got scared and called my 1st step mom. She told me to stay in my room and not make a noise. So I did.*
I started school, and it went okay, except a lot of reports were made for me to the school councelor. I never talked to her, but more social workers came to ask questions. I became a bully sadly... but I tried hard and changed that. In fifth grade I started getting bullied. Pushed, kicked, teased. By that point I just accepted it thinking I deserved it. In sixth grade I saw someone pushing down a kid, so I tackled that person and him and his buddies pushed me down and kicked me until I stopped telling them to stop. I would get teased still. Eventually I started self harming and thinking of ending my life. The school councelor found out and an officer came and talked to me, and they called my mother because I begged them not to call my father. My mother cried and grounded me. That year my friend Liz, had cancer, and all of her family had passed away, so she would constantly to dangerous things, saying it doesn't matter if she died. She also self harmed. One night, I fell asleep and when I woke up I was told she ended her life. After that I started having awful nightmares every night of her jumping out if buildings or other things, so I just forced myself to stay awake. Eventually I became very sleep deprived but I was not able to make myself go to sleep, so I saw a sleep therapist who tried everything but meds and none of her methods never fully worked. My 1st step mother had decided to move to Texas. I then became extremely depressed, but none of my family noticed. I still self harmed, and I started actually attempting to end my life, I also became anorexic. The summer passed, and nothing changed. Soon after school started I started to look for a father figure who actually cared about me and I found one. His name was Rich, but I called him daddy. He made me eat, and take my medication, and made me promise that I wouldn't hurt myslef in any way. He told me that if I didn't do any if those things he wouldn't take his heart medication, we'll he knew that I care too much about people and couldn't let him do that so I basically had no choice but to say fine. I tripped up on eating, meds, and self harm quite a bit, but once I realized he wasn't kidding about this I forced myself to obey. I would visit him quite a bit, and he would let me cry on his lap after school or just vent. He made sure I ate, and was okay. During that time I was told I had a sister. I hated my father for keeping that from me, but she came to live with us. While she was with us she made several suicide attempts, and self harmed a lot. She would talk to no one but me, and I would go and sit in her room every night. There was only one time I ever saw her cry. We became super close and her and Rich were the only people that cared about me. One day my sissy ran away and left a note on her bed that said "I'm sorry, I can't continue to be here and break this family apart. Stay strong my beautiful little flower (she called me her little flower) I love you"*
Shortly after I called Rich and he told me he had to leave me. After that I never saw him again. And I hated him.
That year I was raped, but didn't say anything. For months I had an anxiety attack before going into bathrooms, or my room. To this day I still have to look around before I enter a room. I didnt tell anyone until months later when I reported it to the police. I don't believe they found him, but I was never informed of anything. Eventually the social workers removed me from my father house, so my mother got full custody. I lived with her for a little and she decided that her house was not a safe environment, so they went to court and my 1st step mother adopted me. That year my friend Zara passed away from cancer, and this boy who came to me for help ended his life. I again stopped eating. That got me put in the hospital. By that point I was in pain, but I thought it was from not eating. When I got in the hospital they said that I had a collapsed lung, so I got surgery for that, because of surgery I got pneumonia, and shortly after pleurisy. After many other surgeries I was told I had lung cancer, so I got surgery as soon as I was well enough to and got the tumor removed. While on the hospital, my father visited and tried to choke me. After that I got an Order of protection against him which he violated so he is currently in jail. I went back to school, and the bullying continued. Very colorful words were written on my locker, I was punched and told I don't belong here. Every day after school I sat outside and cried. Nobody. Not once did anyone stop to ask if I was okay.*
I started going to another doctor for sleep and I was told that I had sleep apnea. My therapist also told me, I had depression with psychotic features, so I was hospitalized and put on meds for that. I also at that point had anxiety, depresson, and PTSD. Also apparently I didn't let myself process things that happened hence why I got nightmares (still do).*
Currently, I have fixed self harming, and still working on eating. I still have anxiety, and depression and trouble sleeping. I just recently got cancer again.
(Sorry about all the grammar mistakes)
After sleeping for most of the day again, I do feel a bit better, and am hoping it does not go into a full blown bronchial infection, since I have COPD and any kind of bad cold or flu usually terribly incapacitates me. I have been eating garlic cloves and consuming oil of oregano and taking other natural herbal things such as echinacea and drinking lemon ginger tea with honey hoping they help stave off anything worse.
