Around when I was 13 and 14, my mom was told I should see a T because I told my gym teacher I tried to kill myself over the weekend, so I went to my first T session and it wasn't to bad but I didn't tell her anything because I knew or I thought that she would tell her but at one moment I told her of the physical abuse from my brother, I told her everything

She said she wouldn't tell anyone and that I was safe but in later that week, I knew she lied, I got off my school bus with a pissed out older brother yelling at and calling a ****ing tattletale and a dumbass, he was worst then ever.

He would grab me by my hair and smash my face on the floor, he would twist my arm till I cried for mercy, he would call me a outcast and a weirdo and a ****ing freak.

I then went to another T session, I was determined to not tell the T anything but she made me draw pictures instead, pictures of my mom and dad, my house, and myself.

After that, I went home and I was told me about my pictures.
They said because I drew the people so small meant that people were not important to me, and the way I drew the roof of the house meant that I was afraid to be home, and the way I drew myself meant that I wish to die.
all was ********

Then my 2nd first, the first time I tried to SI after I heard that from my mom.

I told my sister that I tried to cut myself, I asked her to not tell mom.
She said she wouldn't but then way did I have the feeling that she was lying to me.

I got yelled at again just because I wanted to die because the people around me gave me no reason to live.
It seems I can't trust my own so-called family with my secrets