[LiLCatuhPiluh]

Hello All!

I know this is a very long post, but I need your help, PLEASE READ!

This is my first ever post here at Sober Recovery. My boyfriend spends a lot of time reading forums on this website. After leaving the page up today I decided to take a look myself. I found this forum for mental health and well I figured it couldn't hurt to seek help here. It seems to be working for a lot of people. I thought if I shared my story, someone might have answers for me. Or at least some sort of help.

I am 20 years-old and I have been severely depressed since I can remember. I think it started at around age 10. My parents divorced. It wasn't the divorce that started it rather the results of the divorce. My father made it very difficult, it took 3 years to become final. I grew up listening to my mother curse my fathers name and everything he'd done to her. I was so unsure of what to believe. When I went to my father's for the weekend he was wonderful to us. Taking us out to do all kinds of things. But my mom always had bad things to say about him. I didn't blame her, I quickly grew to understand her pain. She was a stay at home mom and now she had to go out and find work, enough work to raise four children on her own now, and all she had was a diploma. All my father did was take us from fri-sun, every other weekend. Because of this situation I feel like I missed out on a lot of things as a kid. My older brother moved out, older sister was working too, so I had to help take care of the youngest one. I started my first job when I was 13. To try and make a really long story shorter. My mom became somewhat of an alcoholic. I hate calling her that because she didn't drink everyday. Just on the weekends, and sometimes a day or two during the week. But she got very mean and said things to me I still won't forgive her for. Things a mother should never say to her child no matter what the circumstances are. Once middle school started I didn't want to spend weekends at my dads. I wanted to stay home and play with my friends. Basically at this point of my life I had no parental guidance whatsoever. This was also the time of my first suicide attemp (if you want to call it that, I only cut up my arms, nothing deep enough to even leave scars, but I was 12).

My Mom was always gone and dad was never there. I was left alone, at the beginning of my teenage years, to figure it all out myself. I quickly learned that giving my virginity to a senior as a freshman was a big mistake. I also learned after too much trial and error that if a boy sleeps with you it doesn't mean ****. It just gives you a really bad rep. I had a terrible middle school and high school experience. I was tormented and teased, threatened and bullied. Girls would spread rumors that had no truth to them. I got into drugs and drinking my freshman year of high school as well. Nothing to bad, until my senior year. I pretty much dipped my fingers into anything I could then. Unfortunately Heroin became my drug of choice. As my senior year was spiraling out of control I pulled myself out of it before graduation with the help of my boyfriend of the time. After my first semester of school at home I moved to the University he was at. However, as i grew dependent upon him, he became mean and abusive. I was so lost I wouldn't leave him. Many events and much more detail that is just to lengthy to go into led me to my second attempt to take my life. This time I nearly succeeded. I had slit my wrists again, deep enough this time that i needed stitches. My family found out and everyone flipped. I ditched the boy and started down my road to redemption. My family was showing me so much love and support and it was great.

Let me inform you that throughout all of this I have seen specialists in my schools and counselors in and out of school. I have even been on anti depressants. Nothing has seems to kill the pain. I also lack proper health insurance or any money to keep trying to seek this help, or look into in patient care. Last year my father made up this ridiculous story as to why I could not longer be on his insurance. I no longer speak with my father due to the fact that he has done everything possible not to help me. He does not come to important events, he doesnt show any kind of interest in spending holidays with his children. He only shows interest in his girlfriend and her family. The lack of a decent father in my life has worsened my condition.

The spring after my semester away at school I came into contact randomly with a very old friend. A friend I hadn't seen in about six years. He was a heroin addict now and when I found this out I was so devastated. I'd seen what it can be like, I had been there. I tried to talk him into hanging out sometime, but he was always so hesitant. Eventually I offered to take him to get his dope and he agreed. I also ended up doing it with him. That was the beginning of a nightmare. I did so much dope this past summer I can hardly tell you what else I did. When you get high enough on heroin you forget things, or at least I do. Everything is a blur. But it did something for me nothing else ever did. It made me forget all my pain. It made me numb to my feelings. I just felt so content.

I am proud to say I am practically sober now. After some serious withdrawals and f'ed up situations I realized this wasn't just a quick escape. it was becoming a disgusting habit. I also played the leading role in turning my friends life entirely around. He's been on suboxone for a little while now and doing fantastic. Better than me actually. I am glad to say he is now my current boyfriend and he treats me wonderfully. But it isnt enough to take away the rest of my pain.

I have lost all interest in life. I feel like I am lacking something everyone else has. Something my parents should have given me as a child. Some sort or nurture. I still use drugs. I have hospital bills, and other bills flying out my a**. I go to school full time and work two jobs because I have to pay for everything myself. When I'm not in class or working I'm sleeping. I feel so alone, and so afraid. I often think about giving up again. The only reason I don't is because without me I think my boyfriend would relapse, and I have to help him.

I've helped a lot of people. But I can't help myself.

So I'm looking for help here now.

Somebody help me please!