The Past IV I just want to quickly point out, that these chapters can get quite harsh and unpleasant quite quickly, so younger and more sensitive readers please be aware. Continued .. Cutting became who I was, which, after a while, developed into not very much. Striving for acceptance and my mothers love, I started the one diet after the other. Orthorexia turned into anorexia, and I came closer and closer to the 40 kg. My hair started falling out and getting thinner, scars and open wounds would cover my arms, legs, feet and sides. I would wind bandages around my ribs as tightly as possible, trying to bend them in so I wouldn’t be so broad. Pills were swallowed by the bottle, laxatives to “clean” my system, painkillers to ease the throbbing in my chest and the bruising of my body, and pills without names on, just in case they might help for something or other. I cut all of my hair off, avoided other people and started sinking into a heavenly emptiness. My mother continued her verbal and physical abuse, my school continued looking the other way, and I continued destroying myself piece by piece. I guess that’s why I can’t remember much from back then, its more of a blur, with curious, scared and angry eyes, staring me down, as if they knew all my dirty little secrets, and were attempting to burn them into my face. At the age of 14, I met my first boyfriend, a 17-year-old schizophrenic. My need to take care of others to distract me from myself took over, and I surrendered to this helpless yet dangerous boy. A week later he raped me for the first time. Needless to say, this did not end our relationship, and I did what my mother taught me, I pleased him. I dedicated my #life to him, letting him rape me over and over again, letting him abuse in the same manner as my mother had done, letting him control me, dominate me, own me. With my first boyfriend, came my first suicide attempt. As many pills as I could swallow, along with enough alcohol to kill a horse, and fingers crossed that I wouldn’t live to return it. I remember lying in my bed, eyes towards the ceiling, or, ceilings seeing as the alcohol had kicked in, and dreaming myself away. Dreaming of a beautiful world, a peaceful world. A world without sound, a world without time, a world where everything is fragile, yet strong; a world where I could be me. Continues ..