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Aurora

My Life

Copyright Aurora

My name is Aurora and I’ve been into cutting and that since 7th grade and I’m now in 11th. I have been depressed for almost nine years. I moved away from my mother when I was about to turn nine years old. I lived with my father off and on before that since before I could remember. Well, my dad and I moved to California from Indiana and stayed with my aunt and uncle who I got to meet for the first time since I was six months old. I didn’t hear from my mother for a while and I started having nightmares. It got so bad to where I couldn’t sleep anymore because I kept having them about her getting hurt. Finally my dad called her and told her what was going on and she and I talked. The reason we moved away was because my mother had been seeing this guy and he started getting jealous of my mom putting all her attention toward my brother and I. Finally it got to the point where he would hit her, my brother, and me. So my dad didn’t let me go see her when she was with him. Well, one Christmas Eve, before I left to California, my mother was supposed to come and get me and she never made it. Later when my dad let me call her because of my nightmares she told me what had truly happened that night because I thought she had finally just abandoned me. She told me that he was really drunk and got into an argument with her and was abusing her once again. My life ended that day, or so I thought. Afterwards I started talking to my mother more. Well, for a while anyway. We fell out of contact with her after a period of time, and we were out of contact for a couple of years. Things went OK in California for a while then I hit junior high and my dad thought I was going to join a gang because my grades started slipping. (In elementary school I was a straight A student.) When my father found out he flipped and started abusing me. I ran away and stayed with some friends for a while then he found me and called the cops. I couldn’t go anywhere else because my aunt and uncle had moved to Minnesota. Well, a couple of days later he put me on a plane to Minnesota to stay with my aunt and uncle because the court got involved with the whole abuse thing and he was scared they’d take me away from him. But I got here and things were OK for about a month, until my father arrived. I started getting yelled at all the time for no reason and I started cutting and became suicidal because I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Well, father found out and hit me some more, and so on and so on. He’d hit me I’d cut, when he’d find out he’d hit me more. For a while we had a family practitioner lady who would come and talk with us about how to deal with what’s going on and how to communicate better. A lot of good that did. I didn’t like her, I don’t really like anyone. It’s hard to get on my good side because I became so shut up inside of myself from moving so much and having to make new friends and then moving all over again. Finally I gave up. If people wanted to be friends then sure what the hell, but if they didn’t come talk to me I wouldn’t confront them and ask them to be my friends. Well, I hit high school and for a while things calmed down and then a teacher started yelling at my friend for hugging one of my other friends because she was crying. (She was crying because her cousin ended up in a coma and might never recover.) Well, when the teacher started bitching I started bitching back. (I have a really bad anger problem.) I went and punched my locker and then went to class. After class I saw the teacher again and my anger went through the roof. I punched and broke the fire extinguisher and got in trouble. Again I ran away because I knew if I went home my father would hit me. And I couldn’t handle that at the time. Well I got found and I got escorted home by the police. Things went OK for a while then at the end of the year I got hit again and I ran away (again). The cops didn’t do anything about it (which pissed me off). 10th grade was alright, well when I didn’t try to commit suicide, and got better when I heard from my mother and got to go and visit her over Christmas vacation. Things got better for a while. (All this time I had still been cutting. Every night and every chance I got.) At the end of 10th grade my dad and I had it out and he told me to move out. So I did and then he called the cops on me claiming it to be my social workers idea. (But truly, he had been feeding her stories about what had truly happened and so my mother had to clear them up with her. I tell my mother everything no matter what it is about.) Well I got hauled back to my father’s again and he said what he meant to say was if I couldn’t live with him I had to live with my mother in Oregon. So I told him fine I’ll go live with her. I went there the whole month of August and while I was there we talked about my schooling and everything and we agreed that if I could do good in my classes and not skip then I could go and live with my aunt and uncle (who were more than willing). So here I am today getting over my ex-fiancee and living with them (which, may I add, is wonderful). I still haven’t gotten over the cutting stage and I am still having a lot of suicidal thoughts. I haven’t found my reason for living yet except that I know there are people left in this world who do care about me and need me around. I have friends who need me as someone to talk to, someone who has been through it all and lived to tell the tale. They look to me for advice and for help. I can’t leave them yet not until I know they will be OK without me here.

Update

I am doing fine now. I am back together with my fiancee. We talked out our problem and so now things are back to normal. My father and I haven’t talked since I’ve been back. Things are very tense between us. I don’t even know if he’s in town still or not. I haven’t seen his truck around for a long time. But yeah, a lot of things have happened but I can only fill you in on some of them. I might be pregnant, but my lovely fiancee thinks it’s just another false alarm like over summer. But yeah I have to go so I’ll update you more another time.

 

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