~Take a look, Why Not? What happened to me...~

I don't know when this all started. I wish I did. It's just like an empty void. I'll be the first to say, I know not many people will care enough to read this, but I'm writing it anyways.
My life isn't that bad. I mean sometimes I think it is. But, compared to other people, theres nearly nothing wrong with me.
I guess my first downfall was when my older brother, _______ sexually abused me. I wasn't raped, no. That's why it's not that big of a deal. I think sexually abused is a strong term for what happened. i don't really remember it that well, but I remember one night we had been playing a video game, and I was seven so my parents called me up to go to bed, _______ told me I could sneak down in the middle of the night, and we could keep playing. So, being the child I was, I did. _______ was probably about...15-17. I'm not sure. Anyways, we played the game in the middle of the night for about 5 minutes, and then he suggested we play something else. Well, I think he suggested it, I really don't remember, I mean a lot of this is what he said happened, because we still talk, it's not like I hate him.
He said, then he took me into my human sized doll house, and he made me touch him, or play with him or whatever. The sad part is, I do not remember being in the doll house, I remember being in his bedroom in his bed. Maybe that means it happened more than once? Idk. I didn't think of that until now. Because, our stories didseem to differ...
Anyways, after that when I was in a daycare, a boy there, he was maybe 4 years older than me...also....forced himself on me sexually,Idk how young I was, but I wasn't over ten years. I hate describing what he did, again I was not raped. But, he did something to me that was worst and what happened with my brother. It's just all...extremely hard to remember and a lot of it well... I don't.
And that, when I was thirteen, 2 boys that were, I believe 16 and 17 had me in a locked staircase with them, and started talkinga bout how they were going to have sex with me. I hadn't realized all afternoon they had been putting me in situations where I was alone with them, where no one could hear or see us, after all I was only 12-13. I ran. They chased me. All of the doors were locked, I couldn't find a way out, but one door without a handle opened, and I ran into what I realized was the lower lobby, I ran towards the elevators I tried to hide, while I waited for one, but I saw the guys in a reflection, they were coming after me. The door just barely closed before thay made it, I ran to my hotel room, my mother took forever to open the door, I was freaking out, crying, they knew where my room was and they were probably getting out of the elevator just then. I made it to my room and collapsed on my bed in relief, and terror. Later that night, one of the boys showed up at the door at about 11. Then about 2am. Then maybe once more. I was scared, and glad we were leaving the next morning, I was on high nerves as I walked through the hotel getting breakfast and heading out to the car, afraid they were going to see me, and find me.
But they didn't, I was safe, as soon as I got in the car.

I have just had bad luck in the boys category. I don't trust guys. Because everytime I have, it had ended badly, scarily.
I can't walk down the sidewalk, and pass a man without being terrified, or turning around and going the other way, or maybe crossing the street to avoid them.
Espectially not a group of men.

People think I have P.T.S.D...they think something happened to me as a child, that I can't remember, but i can't think of anything worse than rape, and I know I wasn't because, I have doctors tell me so, when I went in afraid something had actually happened sexually.

Espectially my mother, she believes I have PTSD, she believes anyone that cuts themse3lves has to really have a reason, something bad. But idk.
I say Idk a lot, because I really just DON'T KNOW!

Then when I was 11-12 I told my mother I was practically miserable all the time, and she turned her back on me and told me I had no right to be sad all the time, that my life could be much worse. It was true.

My brother told me, he wished I was dead, twice. My mother and father think thats normal. Or maybe...they secretly agree? Idk.
I think it's true, if I was gone, they would be so much happier.
Everyone would benefit, even me.

My father got drunk almost every night. Not drop dead drunk , but drunk. He would always yell at me, and I would almost always end up in tears at night.He had always said...mean things, but one night he really got to me. "Why don't you try doing something once for right." The words still ring through my head. But it's true. My mother tells me he was depressed because he hated living in tennessee, so he drowned his sorrows in alcohol, but he also did that when we first moved out here.
I remember one day/night, I had really been pushed over the edge, and that had been the first night I had tried to commit suicide. i didn't pop 50 pills, but I did take more than I knew was safe. I had always been doing overdoses but not big ones, just ones, to make me sleep, and this first one, was the one where I honestly didn't know if I would be getting up in the morning. The bigger overdoses increased, until I was figured out and they wanted to do an EKG to make sure my heart was alright.
That's when they first threw me into a psychiatric hospital, of course I had been cutting for about 3 years by then.

The usual length of time someone was there was 3-5 days, I was there for 14, and they only screwed me up more.
I am still a cutter, and if I could overdose I would.

I am being sent to year long treatment in Utah soon, because now my cutting has gotten a bit worse. Deeper. Quite a bit deeper. I am using razor blades now rather than using the raxor I would use to shower.

I don't know if I need this place in Utah, maybe, I'm just pretending all of this, IDK.IDK if I need heavy therapy, IDK if I need  help at all. but I dont want to stop cutting, I dont really see anything outside of it...

I. Just. Don't. Know.