I saw this thread on another forum, and I'm curious about how some you got to where you are and where you are now. Here's mine

For me, it all started in 5th grade.

I moved in 4th grade, and I finished out my school year at the only school I had ever gone to. Then I went to a new school with different people, and no friends. I was really shy and scared and extremely pissed off at my parents for making me leave my best friend behind. In 5th grade, I met my friends Amanda and Angele. They were both amazing, but Angele's dad was murdered that February on Superbowl Sunday. He was like my second dad, and I was completely lost. We all helped each other get through it. Then came along the hell hole otherwise known as middle school.

6th grade was okay. I had a lot of friends, I was reunited with old ones, and I was ready to move past the death of my friend's dad. Then my dad got in a fist fight, and was screwed over by some crazy ***** that said he tried to strangle her when it was really just self defense. I watched the whole thing go down. My dad is now a registered felon, and he was on probation for a year. In 7th grade my brother was born. The poor kid... he was born in the middle of the perfect storm. My dad was extremely depressed and suicidal. My parent's marriage was on the rocks, and I was being neglected emotionally, and this is when the verbal abuse started. I was bullied in school, and all of my friends were turned against me. In 8th grade, I started to realize that I didn't want to eat anymore. My depression was slowly taking hold of my life. My best friend and I were tying to make it through, although our friendship was slowly deteriorating. I decided to go to one of those special schools where you're supposed to graduate with a two year degree along with your high school diploma. I wanted to get away from the bullies and I wanted to start fresh--take a leap of faith.

High school... the best four years of your life. Yeah, okay. My depression went into full swing, and so did my dad's. I just recently found out about this, but he attempted suicide my 9th grade year, but the gun clicked and my mom took it away from him. I started restricting that year and I quickly got addicted to self harm. I was so numb, and angry at everyone and everything. I didn't understand why my brother got all of the attention. I didn't understand why I wasn't good enough for my family or my boyfriend's family. My boyfriend at the time was the only person that I really talked to at this point. I started to go to church my 9th grade year too, and that helped me out a lot. There were people there who could actually relate to what I was going through, and I was slowly getting happier. My boyfriend's mom found out about my cutting, and so she decided to call the school's guidance counselor and report me. The next day, I was forced to show my gc my arms and she sat me down and we talked it through.She said she wouldn't call my parents as long as I promised I wouldn't do it anymore. I promised and just made sure I avoided her and when my arms were clean, I would make sure I walked by her with my sleeve pulled up so she wouldn't get too suspicious. That summer I broke up with my boyfriend. He was trying to get into my pants and I wasn't about to do that. 10 grade was my recovery year... I joined the cheerleading team so I would have to eat and I wouldn't be able to cut because of the uniforms. It worked. Cheerleading saved my life. 11th grade was great too! I quit cheering, though, and became more involved in my studies. I also felt really alone because my best friend at church moved away and started to go to college.

Now I'm here. A senior in high school. This year has been hell. My current boyfriend and I have been together for about 2 years, but now I am going through the process of ending things. He is the pastor's kid, and I feel like I'm on some giant pedestal and I hate it. I don't feel like I deserve to hold that position because I relapsed in my cutting and severe restricting. I feel like I do nothing but cause him pain, and I know I am in no mental state to be in a relationship. My uncle and great grandad have died during this school year. They died 3 months apart, and this caused me to have panic attacks. I would wake up from dreams having one, or my parents would be fighting and yeah... it was just bad. There is one night in particular that I can without a shadow of a doubt say has been the worst night of my life. It started off with my parents fighting, I got involved (more like drug in), then I had a panic attack. When I was able to move without needing to hold on to something, I went to my room, got my razor, and started to cut. It was the only way I knew how to cope. I told my mom that if things continued like this, I would be packing my bags and staying at a friends house for a few days. This broke my dads heart and he said to me, "you really think you've got it that bad? I can go end it all right now." What the **** was I supposed to say to that? He walked out of my room and fired his gun 3 times in the back yard. I didn't know this at the time, and I thought I led my dad to commit suicide. I had another panic attack and I continued to cut and cut and cut. I guess I just needed the blood to show me that this was all real. I felt like I was in someone else's life. I couldn't believe that I was living this.

Over the past few months, things have gotten a lot better. My dad has tried to stop smoking and drinking, and he is a lot happier now. The whole family is. My dad and I are slowly rebuilding our relationship. He broke his hip this past Monday, so he has been told he will probably be out of work for about 12 weeks, so he and I will be spending a lot of time together. In a way, this is one of the best things that has happened to our family. We are being forced to learn how to communicate and how to work together to keep things going.

I am still struggling with self harm and my eating disorder though. I came here to find people that I could relate to and not worry about how anyone would really react. Just as long as I could find support. I have been put on antidepressants which are actually making my triggers much more sensitive. I'm going to my psychiatrist on Wednesday to hopefully talk about that and get that straightened out. My therapist has been amazing though. When I was referred by my doctor, I was terrified even though I wanted the help. She is working with me to help me see myself how others see me. When I look in the mirror, I see a worthless, fat, ugly piece of ****. I know that others see the polar opposite of me though.

My t has told me that hospitalization is in my future if I continue restricting the way that I am. I've only been seeing her for about 4 months and she said that she has seen severe weight loss. So right now, I'm trying to eat enough to doge the hospital, but I want to see the scale go down. I want to get tinier, Eating is really hard, and when I do eat, I can't control myself. I would so much rather just sip on my water and say, "I'm not hungry". I don't know how my mental mindset ever got this bad. I started off just dieting, but it quickly turned back into my ed that I had in 9th grade.

Sorry this was so long! This is how I ended up where I am though!