When I was about 4 years old I lived in a lovely home with my mom, dad, sister, brother, two dogs, and one cat. I went to a lovely school, I loved it there but I only had about one friend and frequently got myself into a lot of trouble.

My brother had been a really messed up kid he would watch my mom get dressed, sexually harass me, etc. I don't really remember it since it was so long ago.

One night my brother and I had been playing in a box, my mom was watching closely since she had known what was wrong with my brother, he touched me innapropriately, I didn't understand sense I was so little, and my mom grabbed me and moved me away from him.

We soon had to send him away, which led to moving and leaving my school. My dad had been into drugs I didn't know but my mom did, she knew what was up, he always would say he was going on business trips, and he got a really good job, but he'd never tell us what the job was.

At the time my family didn't have much money, so we couldn't buy a house or food, our grandparents let us move in with them, they had several extra rooms for us to have and it was perfect.

For a little while...

My grandpa was informed by my dad's father that my dad had gotten into drugs, which led to my grandpa assuming my mom was taking drugs to. This then led to a huge argument and we moved once again. We moved in with our aunt in this little home, it was gorgeous, I went to a new school... again.

But I got horribly sick and this lasted up for about three weeks, I couldn't do anything at all, what sucked is that my aunt was a doctor and wouldn't let me do anything, and forced me to take naps and take medicine, daily.

Soon we had enough money to afford a tiny little house near our aunts house, my mom and dad began fighting a lot, I loved my dad and wanted to stay with him whenever my mom went out with my sister.

My mom figured out that my dad messed up, she came to get me, and my dad came in the car and she drove off, I didn't cry because I knew that it'd hopefully get better.

Gladly, we finally moved back with our grandparents, unfortunately my dad started stealing stuff, we didn't know this at the time, but I was always blamed for the stuff constantly disappearing.

This included electronics, cameras, food, etc. My own father even blamed me for stealing my sisters camera.

One night my friend spent the night and we were playing on my DS, as soon as we fell asleep I heard my dad come in with a flashlight I asked him what he was doing. He said he was just checking in, I woke up the next morning with my DS missing.

Everyone finally caught on, and I came downstairs one morning to my mom and sister sitting on the couch sobbing, as well as my dad, I asked what was going on and my mom said my dad was leaving. I came and sat next to him, we cried together.

He stood up, and began walking out the door, I followed him and hugged him, crying harder, screaming for him not to leave, he didn't say anything. He walked out the door, leaving my mom, sister, and myself, crying.

I went upstairs screaming out the window, and begging for him to come back. He was gone, I hadn't seen him for 5 years.

Soon my mom found love for another man, when my mom first introduced me to him, I did NOT trust him, he seemed weird and creepy, but I didn't tell my mom how I felt because I wanted her to be happy, and didn't want another relationship to be ruined.

He seemed so nice, he'd take us out to ice cream, he'd let me help him detail cars. But one day, one horrible horrifying day.

There was a huge power outage, and my stepdad was out "helping" remove a tree on his moms house. So he said, my mom fought with him for hours over the phone, as each phone died.

My grandma comforted me upstairs as we heard them screaming at each other. I fell asleep with my mom, and woke up to banging as we saw my stepdad trying to turn on the fan, but the power was still out.

I had no idea what time it was, but my mom told me to go upstairs. I fell asleep. About possibly, 20-30 minutes later, I woke up to horrendous screaming, my grandma and I ran out to see what was going on.

My mom came up bloody, bruised, and in pain. It was hard seeing her like this, turns out he was a narcissist.

And when I returned to school after that summer, it was really hard for me because I experienced lots of drama with girls who were way prettier than me.

Just walking through the halls seeing them so pretty looking just made me feel insecure, I'd have to talk to the counselor a lot about my experiences but the school just made my time a lot worse.

I only had one friend that was a girl, the rest were boys, I'd get made fun of for acting so boyish. And they'd say I only hung out with the boys because I wanted attention, and wanted the boys to like me.

There was one boy who I really trusted he was really kind, and he was the only boy or person I could talk to. He'd give me advice on what to do with bullying, it helped.

Except I was bullied a lot online, I'd be called names like, whore, slut, lesbian, bitch, cunt, etc. This would happen almost every single day.

I literally closed out the entire world, and spent my entire time on e computer, constantly continuing to torture myself, that was only because I had more friends online then in real life.

I'd still get bullied online, my virtual friends tried to help but it was no use, I became depressed, and my teacher became concerned, he was a horrible teacher, I hated him, I didn't want him to care because he was so mean.

But I just let him yell at me for posting sad quotes on Instagram, he told me I was only doing it for attention and it makes people worried about me. My mom knew why I was depressed, after losing my dad, and all the bullying. She handled it for me, because she knew I couldn't do it myself.

Now I'm living a happy life, it's not as hard because I've taught myself to stay strong, and not let little things get to me.

And that's my story.

I used to be cyber bullied all the time, sometimes in real life I'd be teased.

Online they'd call me a self centered whore, or a slut, etc.

In real life they'd tease me for hanging out with boys, they'd always say I was doing it for attention.

Well I felt weak, very attacked, like I had no reason to still be living.

I felt relieved, almost like I had felt freedom for the first time.

Yes,I'd usually listen to music, or write my feelings.

Yes, I wasn't strong enough to use a blade, so I used a tack, but it still really hurt and i regretted it immediately.

No, never, because I know nothing like that is worth taking my life away.

Yes, because I needed help out that state of depression, and loneliness, I told my mom because I knew she'd help me escape from my anxiety.

Possibly two years.

Not recently, or as frequent as before, things still happen.

Here's some advice.

Things get better, I know everyone has heard this before, it might not happen when you want it to, but it does happen. And whenever you feel like you can't continue, or stay strong, just pray. Even if you're not religious, just try, God came to my rescue, he saved me from the state of depression. And if you need help, just ask, don't be afraid, you have to stay strong if you want to be happy, if you say you aren't strong, or you're tired, keep going. Don't care that you're tired, if you convince yourself you aren't strong enough your body will stick to those words, and make it a constant thing. Tell yourself you're beautiful, tell yourself you're strong. And KEEP GOING.