So Many Things.

hi, everyone. this is my story. before my dad died, things weren't as much worst as they are now. but when my dad died, a lot of the responsibilities came on me. i was the youngest of my siblings and i was just 9. my brothers were never home and my sister never cared. i used to clean, sometimes cook and handle the whole house. i know you must be thinking she's joking.. a nine year old no way! but yes, my mum was severely depressed because now she was going to be a single mom. i used to stay up all night because of my mother sometimes. as i grew older, things got worse, my mother started hitting me more, she started abusing me, even before this, i was raped, and the sexual abuse that followed lasted for four years. i could not tell anyone about it because my mother was already so stressed. i was a good student, always at the top of my class, always participitating in everything but slowly i started hanging out with the "bad crowd" some were much older than me but it didn't bother because i was already too mature for my age. i used to get along with all of them really well. my mother never gave a **** about me, my brothers started hitting me too for no reason. my mother bought me somethnigs, like gadgets and boks and toys but that wasn't what i wanted, she never understood that. i don't know why. my sister was always lost in her own little world. i never existed to my mother, only when it was work. our relationship is and always will be love and hate but more towards the hate. i was always the next best thing, she sometimes told me she loved me but no mother treats her child like that. i was very different than my mother, i was open minded, strong, independant, straight forward and always my own person. for which i got called a ***** a lot and also, later on a **** for no reason. my studies went downhill,i became a rebel, i started eating a lot, my whole family started calling me names. my mother accused of me having sex with every boy i could get my hands on and she accused me of many more things. i don't and never did understand why. i have left a good chunk of somethings that happened out. i realized i had depression when i was 12. my mood changes time to time, though everyone says i seem happy alll the time, i am a very laid back kind of person so no one notices, i get lonely all the time but i fight it. talking to anyone doesn' help me. i tried once, nothing changed or i didn't feel better. i'm used to keeping everything bottled up inside and it doesn't really bother me much now. sometimes, the good part is i can move on fast so that helps. i have no reason to live but i do, i try to find reasons. battling depression like finding light in a pitch black tunnel.  i am now 13. i know a lot of people have it worse than me but thank you for reading my story.