It all began when my parents divorced. I was seven years old, and didn't really understand what was going on. I know now that it was for the best, and I'm glad it happened when I was so young. Although we moved in with my mum's new boyfriend when I was eight years old. We lived in an upside down house; bedrooms downstairs, kitchen and living-room on the upper level. I came home from school one day, and he was downstairs. I walked into the bedroom as I thought my mum was home and he was watching porn with his shorts and boxers down to his ankles. I was eight years old, I didn't understand it at all. I just walked out and went into my bedroom. It then progressed to him coming into my bedroom at night and doing business over me. Again, I had no idea what was going on, and I was left to clean up the mess. Nobody seemed to notice that my behaviour was becoming progressively worse and I was playing up a lot more. I would see my biological father on weekends, have a really great, relaxing time and then when I'd go home, I would play up and my mum would think that it was because I'd seen my Dad, when in reality, it was because I was back at home.
I began self-harming at the age of 11, which started with scissors and then turned into overdoses and blades. I took my first overdose at the age of 15. Everything stopped at that age. I was extremely grateful to have full nights sleeps and be able to almost relax. Then when I was 17, I was raped. He came into my room, did exactly what I've stated, and left. I was in shock for a while and then got up, sorted myself out, packed my bags and got a taxi to my Dad's house. I cried, but just said that there was a family dispute. I ended up taking an overdose, with my friend ringing an ambulance, which turned up at my Dad's. I turned them away, and said they'd got the wrong person. The paramedics ended up calling the police who had to watch me getting changes in case I hurt myself. Not only that, but they got social services involved due to the conditions of my Dad's place. I ended up being in the hospital for five days, and then sent home to declare myself as homeless. I was put into temporary accommodation: a b&b and then a hostel. I got involved with some difficult people, who introduced me to drugs and alcohol. I was going out almost every single night. I ended up getting pains in my left side of my back, and found out that if I didn't stop taking overdoses and drinking, I would end up on dialysis as my kidney was damaged.
When I was 19 years old, back in May of 2016, I told my CPN (Community Psychiatric Nurse) and Dad about what had been going on behind closed doors. My CPN just listened and advised, which actually really helped. My Dad went to the police. I underwent a full investigation. In May 2017, I found out that actually, even though I was believed by both the police and the CPS, they unfortunately couldn't take it any further as it was such a historical case. It was a struggle to hear and what was even worse was the fact as soon as I came out about my past, my entire family cut me off. That includes my mother (who's still married to the man), my brother, sister, and that meant I lost contact with my nieces. It's been a tough ride, but you learn to remain positive. You learn that negativity literally brings that, and there's no point in being negative. I'm now a mum myself to a beautiful little girl and I honestly couldn't be happier. The moral of the story is that you need to keep your head high, you need to pick yourself back up when rubbish things happen and you need to accept help when it's offered to you. Life can be so crap sometimes, but you need to realise that things will be okay, and you're strong. You're not given anything you can't deal with.