At the foundation of my crippling mental health issues is my adoption at 3 months old. I knew that my “forever parents” loved me and they took very good care of me but there was always a disconnect when it came to an emotional and mental level. I of course would always want to know about my biological family and my parents seemed to continue to take offense to that. They had been trying to have their own child for a while and two years after adopting me they finally had their own son which they spoiled consistently. Because of both of these dynamics in our relationships things were very taught. They were very strict with me and would beat me everyday for years whether it be with a belt or they would cut me with a knife they would always tell me, “you deserved it”.

 You would think they would be happy when I started inflicting the pain on myself for them. When highschool rolled around I was accustomed to being hurt with words or with an object that it seemed only fitting to continue the tradition. I began cutting myself or punching and intentionally hurting myself whenever I did something wrong or not to their standards. I was depressed and lonely and couldn't go a day without panic attacks. With all of this I had no one to talk to. My parents favorite line was “no one cares about your feelings, get the work done”. No one else in my family believed me when I said they were abusive and I was being mistreated and when the school or my friends parents got involved somehow the discussion would be put down and never brought up again. They brought me to a counselor which they knew would always side with them and who eventually told them to bring me to a psych ward where I was for a week as they lied to everyone, even family about where I was.

 I was sexually assaulted by my best friend.

Through all of this I laughed, I smiled and made other people's lives easier. I made it through 12 years by smiling and laughing. Then I went to college.