Okay, so I am 36 and I finally feel like I can see the world around me. The endless possibilities and the happiness there is for me. I still get sad more often than not when I think of all of those years I wasted being insecure and withdrawn. It's funny though, I am still very insecure and withdrawn, but I feel like my eyes have just opened. I actually laugh out loud when watching comedies and cry at the sad parts in books and movies, I never did these things before. It's like there is a whole new world out there for me.

I technically diagnosed bi-polar at the age of 11, they said I showed all the signs but back then they said it was not possible for someone so young to be bi-polar ( I keep asking myself how it's possible that some disorder just magically kicks in when you're 21 and never before, I guess they figured that out). I have been on meds since then, oh so many different meds, I can't even remember all of them. I do remember that at 11 I was on 100mg of prozac a day. It didn't help, my mom constantly yelled at me for not taking my pills because I was not acting any different, but I was taking my pills I wanted to be better, I always have.

I used to hurt myself, and when my step-father yelled at my I would bite my arm so hard I would bleed, no one understood this, I can't explain the biting really, only that maybe it was because I my step-father constantly told me I was nothing, worthless and unwanted, and I wanted someone, anyone to see the pain it was causing me, he only did it when no one else was around so no one believed that he really was hurting me. Those who did believe that he said those tings could never really understand the [pain I constantly felt inside. So I would cut and bite to show that I was feeling the pain, but they still did not understand.

When I was 12 my mom put me in a hospital, it was a horrible place and they locked me in a little room that was the size of a closet with only the cold tile floor to sit on, they came by occasionally to make sure I hadn't gone to sleep, it wasn't allowed. I was in there all day and the only reason I got out was because my mom found out what they had done and came and got me. To this day I am claustrophobic.

There is so much to my story and i have never felt that I can tell anyone, and I couldn't journal about it because my mother and brother would read them and confront me about the "lies" I was making up. I want to just keep going right now and get it all out, but I doubt a post would hold so much. Hopefully I can finally get it all out and I will feel better. I feel a little better every time I get someone to see what I went through was real. I know I will never get my mom to see it, she says I should get over it, I was just a kid. But I am sure most of you know that words can last oh, so, much longer than cuts and the can wound so much deeper. Maybe i should start an anonymous blog, and just hope that people will read it. The way i've been feeling I have hope now that that's possible.

That's it actually, I just realized it as I was typing that last sentence I had an epiphany, I feel HOPE, something I have never really felt until now.

I will keep going but not right now, my fingers are getting tired and I am having a hard time seeing through my tears.