When I was 12, I had the world. I had the greatest friends and everything was perfect. My aunt was in high school then. She would tell me everything and me being the person that I was, I wouldn't ever spill a word of what she had told me. Then she started doing bad in school, and while we both used to share the attention of our parents, her mom and dad, my grandma and grandpa, she was getting all of the attention. They never noticed when I got good grades, when I got an A on a test, when I came home in tears because my best friend was dating the guy I had liked for several months. It was like my world had fallen apart, they didn't notice me because I wasn't doing anything wrong. To top it all off, my aunt and I got in a huge fight, she told me that no one wanted me, that my mom didn't want me, that it was my fault that my biological dad, and the man that I had called dad all of my life left my mom, that the only reason my grandparents had taken me in was because if they hadn't I would have gone to foster care. I used to think my aunt was the world, so when she told me this I believed her. I started to feel even more confused during the summer before 8th grade, I was dating the guy I had liked for a long time, the same guy my best friend had dated, and she hated me for it, at the time we weren't talking at all, during the summer I went to my mom's house for the first time since she was released from jail. While I was up there I met this guy, he was cute, he like me, and I liked him, but he used me, he sexually assaulted me, and that made things ten times worse. I never really noticed that my world was crashing down on me until October of 2007, when I had just broken up with my most recent boyfriend and he was spreading rumors about me, rumors that obviously weren't true, but the only person that could back my side of the story up, was mad at me for dating her cousin. I started cutting myself when the rumors started, first it was just to release all my pent up frustrations, then it became a need, a craving, not only for the emotional pain to be released but for the physical pain to be felt so that I knew I was still alive. My parents never noticed, they still to this day don't know that I cut myself, and I never tried to hide it, I wore short sleeved shirts, I wore shorts, I even had the word PAIN carved into my ankle, no one noticed. I don't do it on a regular basis anymore, I probably do it once every two or three months. I don't crave it anymore, now, I'm just numb, I'll be 16 this summer, and I'm still dealing with the cutting, and I will always have to deal with it, but that's because I have an addiction, and I always will, I'm not lost anymore, I know who I am, I know who I want to be, who I'm supposed to be. My biological dad, and my step-dad want me in their lives, but I don't want them in my lives, the last few years have been hell because I didn't know who I was because of them, and now that I know who I am, I realize that they are not a part of me or who I am or will become, and that is fine with me. My mom tries to participate in as much of my life as she can, but she has her own life too, living two hours away and caring for my two younger brothers takes up a lot of her time, but I know she loves me and cares about me. cutting now is a way to relieve stress. I know it's not good, and I fight it to my full potential, but I will always have those days where the need to cut is so overwhelming that I will succumb. one day it will stop, hopefully that day is soon, but we'll just have to wait and see.