My Story

The earliest memory of what happened to me starting was I'm saying when I was six. I don't know why that day things had to change. My brothers and I LOVED to sleep on the floor or couches and we called it "camping out". At the time my brothers didnt live with me so they didnt have a room so they always slept in the living room and I wanted to be around them because I loved my brothers. Anyways, this day I can remember was I'm pretty sure the first time I was sexually abused by my oldest brother. Notice I said first time so obviously it happened more than once. Then we started getting older and my brothers would take turns living with my parents and I for a year or so. I dont remember if anything happened during my elementary school years  off the top of my head but my oldest brother lived with us when I was in 6th grade. Which made him a freshmen in high school. Both my parents worked and I would get home from school first and then he would get home. I wanted life to be normal but my brother wouldnt let that happen. Up through my freshmen year of high school my brother would come home and try to hurt me almost everyday. I was thankful for the years when I would get home first because I would run home and lock myself in my bedroom and stay there unitl my parents got home, for some reason I didnt always do that. My brother was pretty good about tricking me so I would come out of my room and I regretted it everytime but I never learned. He eventually moved in with his mom so he wasn't around a lot thankfully. However, I had this deep dark secret eating me alive. I actually had told some of my friends the summer before I started High School and they kept my secret a secret. Then in High School what happened to me would just play through my mind all day. I made a new friend in Junior year who I eventually talked to about my brother and somehow he convinced me to go tell my guidance counselor. So my friend came with me and we told my guidance counselor who then told me since I was a minor he would have to report it to DCFS. I was scared and pissed off. Luckily, I made a deal with him, I would see a therapist and tell a therapist and then he wouldnt call. So, I did that without a problem not realizing that my therapist would call DCFS. I felt like a complete idiot for walking right into that trap. Also, my therapist had to call my parents to give them a heads up. So now my secret was out in the open and you think things would of gotten so much better. However, things get worse before they get better. So high school continued and I didnt care about school really, I was to busy playing the victim. Senior year I was a handful and somehow I managed to graduate on time. Also, two months after graduation I turned 18. This was a big deal because in high school I decided I was only giving myself til my 18th birthday to report my brother to the police. So, my 18th birthday came and went and I never pressed charges. Now that decision was off my shoulders I felt like starting at a new school (college) would give me a fresh start and no one would know I was a troubled teen. Sadly, I picked up right where I left off in high school, except, now I was actually failing classes and ditching classes. So in a way things were getting worse. Then me and my friends started experimenting with things, I thought it was all fun. Next thing I started was self-injury. I took it up about a one and a half years ago. I kept doing it off and on for a year. Oh and all this time I was still seeing that therapist that I met in high school. So eventually she decided I had hit rock bottom and we agreed to call the crisis line. We scheduled me an appointment with one of the workers and I was not happy about it at all. I told the lady I wanted to die but that I wasnt to worried about actually attempting anything. So she just made me do an outpatient day program (its just group therapy). I started group therapy the next day and it was only a half day, then the following day I met with my doctor for the program. We talked and she decided it was to risky to let me stay outside in the real world and she admitted me into the hospital. I spent nine days in the hospital and I did my best to get out as fast as possible. I felt like I didnt belong there after hearing other peoples stories. So I really accomplished nothing in those 9 days, I made new friends, and I sadly cut myself while I was in there. After I was released I went back to outpatient for two weeks. It was rough being in the real world. I still had urges to cut and kill msyelf, so really I felt like I should of never left the hospital. In the outpatient program you also get assigned a therapist so I kept her informed on my feelings and we decided to voluntarily send myself back upstairs in hope that a second time around would work better. And to my surprise it was a wonderul stay. I actually accepted my problems and did some work on them with the counselors. I was released two weeks later. I did one more week in the outpatiend after that and bam I felt like a new person. In the hospital programs I learned new coping skills that worked wonderful. Like my favorite day and morning was tuesday mornings for yoga class. And I loved meditation class, dog therapy, art therapy. I really loved it all. I am one of the few people that can say my experience there was completley worth it. Now for an update....I've been out of the hospital almost 5 or 6 months. I went almost that whole time without self-injuring myself. Sadly I gave in a couple weeks ago for a horribly stupid reason (my phone bill). Also, I am doing my best to not involved myself in my friends bad habits. I worked so hard in the hospital and changed so much that I don't want to risk going backwards in all this progress. I don't want to have to go back into the hospital and see everybodys face again since when I left they thought things would finally turn around for me, I want to make them all proud. I want to be part of the statistics that say being in a hospital can really help you. One last thing before I call it a night, my oldest brother is currently in jail for sexually abusing someone else and I recently got the courage to confront him in a letter, whehter her read it or not I dont know. Part of me wishes I knew his reaction to my letter.  Well I know this is a lot to take in so goodnight.

-jlo