....

My therapist told me that I should try writing about the things I've been thinking about lately. I figured what better place than a blog that no one will ever read. I should start with telling you my life story... I was born on November 7th, 1995, with 1 sister, Scarlet, who was 5 1/2 years older than me. Scarlet and I are like night and day, hot and cold, black and white, we don't get along. It's not that we don't get along, it's just that we're so different it's hard for us to find anything to talk about. Anyway, I grew up in a pretty normal house, we had enough money to get by, but not too much that I was super spoiled. I danced for 7 years from 3-10 years old and I have been playing softball for 12 years. In 5th grade my parents got divorced because...well, I really don't know why. My mom says it's because he cheated on her, but I know that's not true. My sister says it was because my dad was suicidal, and my dad says it was because they "drifted apart". I don't know which one it is, and frankly, I really don't care. So after they got divorced my sister was super depressed and angry at my dad because she is the one who found my dads suicide note, so she didn't talk to my dad and my mom was angry at my dad because she thought he cheated on her and I still liked my dad, so it was hard living in a house where everyone I was surrounded by hated my dad and I liked him but wasn't allowed to show it or say anything about it. My mom had custody of me and I visited my dad half of the time, he was living in an apartment three blocks away from my house. My mom met this new guy who was 18 years younger than her and they started going out, soon they started living together. They would go out every night to the bar and get drunk and then they would come home and he would abuse her while I was standing right there, It was really hard because my whole life I had someone to love me and comfort me when things got hard and now the one person I could turn to was the one lying unconscious on the floor with glass shards all over her. My sister was never home so she never saw any of this happen and my dad knew about it but didn't say anything about it because he didn't know what to do. There was one night where my mom and Preston, her boyfriend, were fighting and he pushed her into the wall and her head smashed into a mirror and broke the mirror, something in me snapped and I went up to preston and punched him in the face and he hit me on the side of the head and I was knocked unconscious, my mom doesn't remember because she was drunk and I haven't told anyone except my friends that are really close. I think about that night everynight and what I could have done to stop it. I haven't cried since that night which was 3 years ago, I think crying is a sign of weakness and had I not been weak 3 years ago I could've done something to prevent what happened or stopped Preston from beating her or done something instead of sitting in a corner crying while he beat her. The night after Preston hit me I grabbed my backpack and walked to my dads house and have lived with him ever since. My mom married Preston and then they got divorced 6 months after they got married. I don't talk to my mom much and I haven't seen her in almost 6 months. So, yeah, that's my life story. exciting, I know