When I was 8, I started stealing food from the cabinets in our house and vandalizing our bathroom. My little sister took the blame every time. I never told her to, she just did. That was when I realized I loved to lie. My sister took the blame for missing food for years. We never talk about it, but I think that caused her anger issues. When I was 9, my mom took me and my sister out of town to go visit her friend and her two sons. Her oldest son, 13 at the time, touched me and we made out. I didn't like it, but I was glad someone was paying attention to me. I felt special. Years later my mom found out, and she was angry at him. I feel bad because i never said no. The next summer, another boy kissed me at the pool. Again it didn't feel right, but I kept crawling back to him because I craved attention. 7th grade rolled around. I started cutting myself. I knew I was depressed, but I liked the feeling. Then I started lying again. I made up my own pychosis. I was taken to the hospital and put into the mental facility. I lied to so many doctors, and they ate it all up. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but at least people cared about me, obsessed over me. I put my parents through hell. When I was released from the hospital, everything was ok for a while. Then I met a girl who changed my life. We fell in love. She was just as much as a manipulative, lying bitch as me. We fed off of our constant drama. She asked me to send her photos of me cutting myself. I did it. And then, one day, I tried to kill myself. I was sent back to the mental hospital. While I was there, she cheated on me. We broke up for a week, and I felt heartbroken. She obsessed over me anr begged me to come back, and secretly I loved it. She asked me to send her nudes and of course I did. Again, I was sent to the hospital, this time for a mix of things. When I came back, it was time for the school trip. Me and my girlfrind were room and bed mates. That was when I learned that "no" didn't really mean no to her. She touched me and dry humped me even after i said no. She kissed me even after i shover my head in the pillow. My friend was in the bed next to us. She never said a thing. I tried to get past it, but i couldnt. We broke up for good this time. I knew she asked about me, and I saw the messages she sent. I didn't care about her anymore. I shut her down. I fell out of love and went back to being lonely. I hate myself. I hate my body. I hate my personality. I hate my actions. No one knows the real me. I have never told anyone the truth about my life. I know someday, it will be to much and I will kill myself. I fantasize about getting murdered or slitting my wrists. No one knows. To everyone else, I have had a great recovery the past few years from my suicide attempts. I cant sleep. I cant feel.