i guess it all started with my step father, well at least when he was around is when I started to notice it. He always used to talk down to me. Made me feel like shit, I hated it, I hated him. I told my mother not to marry him, but she didn't listen. At the wedding my god mother held on to my arm tightly so I didn't say anything when they said that "speak now or forever hold your peace" crap. Course that was when I was 8. I've known him since I was about 5. I've hated him for so long. Why should a little girl be forced to hate so much at such a young age? He used to bring up adopting me, I always refused. I did not want him as my legal father, I loved my Dad. And I hated him. Him being my stepfather. He scared me, I got bad feelings about him. Like he was a pervert. And they were proven true eventually. I started becoming suicidal around 5th or 6th grade. I didn't even know what I was going through. I couldn't tell anyone b/c I was ashamed. I didn't know what I was going through and I was confused. I finally let someone know when I had a fight with my mom about how much I hated my stepfather, and I blurted out how he made me wanna kill myself. She went into shock. After I few days I had my first visit to a psychologist. She was one of those annoying bitches who I hated and couldn't tell her anything. She put me into some stupid support group for girls who parents were divorced. It didn't do anything for me. I heard about everybody else's fucking problems, and I didn't talk about mine. They were just a stupid bunch of girls, who I hated. And I hated my psychologist the most out of all of them. I told my mom that I just wasn't going to go anymore, and she said fine. I told her I was ok, that was a huge lie...

I wasn't alright, in fact it got worse. Much worse. It wasn't just thoughts anymore, it was attempts. For almost 2 years straight I tried to kill myself every night. I used to try to slit my wrists. I got the idea from a friend who tried to slit hers to get attention, she didn't even cut on the vain. I tried to. But I could never cut deep enough. I guess I was too weak, I thought it was the only way out, and I wanted to take it, but I just couldn't. I don't know what held me back, even now I don't see what did, but something stopped me. And I'm glad it did.

I continued to have these horrible feelings about Ron (stepfather). They kept getting worse and worse. I was afraid he would touch me or something, in a sexual way. It scared me. And I didn't tell anyone. I kept it to myself, b/c I thought they were unfounded feelings. I thought I was sick to even imagine that he could do such things, yet the thoughts still plagued me. They haunted me, I was scared to be alone b/c they would come back, yet I didn't want to be around anyone, it made me more depressed. When I was alone there was no one to bring down with me. When I was around people I felt that I had to act happy, and I just wasn't. I couldn't be happy anymore. I didn't even realize I was depressed, I just thought I was sad. When I was in 9th grade I finally told my mom that I was suicidal again. She took me straight to the doctors again. This time I got medication. I was put on Paxil immeaditly and the psychiatrist asked my mother if she thought I would be safe outside a mental institution. That terrified me, I didn't think I was insane. I didn't think I belonged there. I still remember the look on the doctor's face when she said that, I freaked out and gave a pleading look to my mom. I didn't want to go there, I heard too many bad things about it. That wasn't where I belonged, I wasn't crazy, was I? I wasn't sure anymore. I accepted the fact that I was depressed, and I shared it with my close friends. Big mistake there. Some turned on me, asking what reason did I have to be depressed. Oh if they only knew... There was so much at one time, I just started high school, friends I had known for years thought I was faking, I had to adjust to this new medicine, it was hell for me. Somehow I survived. I stopped taking the medicine. I felt fake on it, I wasn't myself, sure it helped, but I didn't think I needed to be THAT happy. I mean someone coulda died in front of me and I wouldn't have been phased one bit. That wasn't me. I'm a caring person, normally. So, I continued with the depression, still trying to slit my wrists, but at least not as often this time. Usually on 2 or 3 times a week. And I started seeing a great therapist. He helped me a lot. Even though it seemed like every time after I went to the therapist I would have a horrible day the next day at school, and at home. Weird, but hey at least I was getting it out. I started to feel better, a little. I had a great best friend, sure we got mad at each other, and sometimes we hated each other, but that was alright. We got over it. I started figuring out who I was. No more following the crowd, I was being myself. I started to despise all things related to rap. Which the year b4 I was listening to. I remember what brought me back to alternative music, it was STP's Big Bang Baby, I loved that song so much, and it snowballed from there. Well back to my 9th grade year. I started to get involved in Drama a little, but in the spring I did softball. Course after one year of softball that was enough. It wasn't a game anymore. Too serious for me. I mean I never had any intentions of making softball my career, so why should I take it so seriously? Quitting softball took a load off. I wasn't so worried about what shape I was in, I mean I still took my weight training class cuz it made me feel good about myself, but I didn't try as hard. I did what I thought I needed to do, and bullshitted the rest. Things were going pretty good, even though I started dabbling in self mutilation. Beginning of my Sophmore year I made the fall production of The Crucible, I played Mercy. It was great! Well until the week b4 The Crucible opened. I found out something that has changed my life forever. All I had ever feared came true...

He, the one who my mom took as her husband was abusing me, even though I didn't know it, but I had the gut feeling. Let me explain a little. He was a peeping tom. He used to look at me in the morning when I got dressed, or try and peer at me in the shower. A pervert. I was crushed. I trusted him, and he just screwed me over. I caught him one morning, I was getting some clothes out of the laundry basket, and since I live in the basement, I have no door, just stairs with a little ledge for some privacy. I looked up and there he was looking at me. I got so mad. I got quickly dressed, but forgot all about what happened when I saw the time, I was running really late. I think my subconcious made me forget about it, well until later when my mom picked me up from play pratice. We were sitting in the parking lot at my school and she asked me to tell her what happened that morning. I had no idea what she was talking about. Then she explained what he had told her. He thought he had gotten caught, and b4 I told her he thought he would and get praised for coming clean. That didn't happen. I broke down crying, I remembered instantly. It was horrible, I hadn't been so sad since my dog died a year b4 hand. Actually I was more in shock than anything else. It all made sense to me now. The shadey feelings, the thoughts that he was doing something to me. This just added to the fact that he always made me feel like shit. He used to talk down to me constantly, I hated it. A week later he left. For good. During that week I was sitting on the couch watching TV upstairs and he came home, he walked in and saw me and started some fake crying shit, it was so obvious it was fake. It made me hate him even more. The self-mutilation continued, and got progressively worse, though I hide it quite well. At this point I wasn't seeing my therapist on a regular basis and I didn't even tell him about what happened to until early December, this happened in mid Oct. Once he was gone I started to feel so much better. My mom said she had her old Lynn back. I never felt better. Well until me and my best friend started to hate each other, but that was only b/c I tried to warn her about these guys calling her a slut if she kept fucking around with them. And she got mad, but fuck her. I don't care. I met Jet. Me and her became good friends quickly. We got along great, and she introduced me into so many new things, like Anarchy, and BDSM. My mind expanded, and I started to speak up about what I saw around me. I became Lynn. I wasn't what everyone expected out of me anymore. I didn't care anymore. Later that school year I went to another psychiatrist and he diagnosed me as bi-polar, and once again I was put back on medication. This medication was quite fun at first. The first night I had it I swear I lost my mind, I became extremely horny and very homicidal. It was the weirdest feelings I have ever felt. btw, I was on Paxil b4 and now was put on a Mood Stabilizer (Depakote) and an Anti-Depressant (Wellbutrin). After about 2 months of those I got sick of them, I didn't adjust well to the medication, and I stopped taking them. As my junior year in high school rolled around I started to get better, became stronger, and more opinionated. The summer b4 my junior year I started this web page. I dunno why, but I did. Then when Xmas time rolled around I realized that I wasn't suicidal anymore. Which was a big plus! I felt such a release, and I was happy for months to come. I had my down times where I shut down and wouldn't talk to anyone, but they passed. I had a great boyfriend, well thought he was great at the time. But turned out he wasn't. I got fucked over again, but I continue on. I get depressed every once in awhile now, like now, but thats b/c I keep reliving things over and over again. Which I need to stop and move on. I have new intrests, course they are online, but hey, at least I'm rebuilding myself right? I've stopped being the victim. I'm not taking it anymore. I stood up to my stepfather a couple of weeks ago, and man that felt good. He and my mom were fighting about my little sister, and then I put my two cents in. He said this didn't involve me. Course I set that record straight by telling him that if he hadn't done what he did then that situation would not even exist now. He shut up. ;D Well I think I've vented a lot, and it feels really good to get this stuff out. So now you guys know the whole story of my life. All my deep dark secrets that I've tried to keep hidden, but I'm not anymore. So farewell unto you all.

~Lynne