Hi, everyone. My name is Amanda and I'm 20 years old. A lot has happened in my life. A lot of ups and downs, and twists and turns in the road for me. I was one of those kids that was teased a lot from a very young age, and all the way through high school. Around the age of 8, I was evaluated because I wasn't progressing as well as I should. During that time, a lengthy report was made about my history, how I'm progressing, what might happen, what can be expected, possible solutions, etc. I didn't know that this report was on file, and was/is on a permanent record. I didn't read the report for myself until I was 18, and by then a bunch of things had already happened, I was in therapy has my therapist was surprised that I hadn't ever read the report. My parents had refused to let me read the report (even when I was old enough to understand), and has dismissed it completely. At the age of 14, I was raped. I shut down completely. I didn't tell anyone what had happened to me for several months. I became very distant and very depressed. I already had eating issues because of peer pressure, and being a ninth grader on a new, and huge high school campus, but after the rape, I started starving myself even more. I started cutting myself. I felt so ugly, so disgusting, and so filthy. I believed that the rape was my fault, I felt so alone, and so ashamed. By the time, I told someone what had happened to me, I had gone from 110 lbs to 89 lbs, I had cuts in one area on my wrist so deep that it was infected and swollen, and it was as if the life was sucked out of me. I was put into therapy, and was hospitalized almost immediately. At the time, I was with my first boyfriend, who was 4 years older then me. He was supportive of me at first, but gradually became distant and then mean. When I got out of the hospital, we went out on a date. I was going out with the intent of having fun, just having a great time. I thought it was gonna be the same for him, but it turned out that he just wanted to have sex with me. I made out with him, and went along with it for a little bit, before I broke down. I started sobbing uncontrollably, and I started panicking. He took me home, and I didn't hear from him for about a week or so. Then he called me one day to say that it was over, that I didn't give him sex, and I couldn't give him anything that he wanted/needed, and that he had already found it somewhere else, and had cheated on me. Too add insult to the injury, he told me that he believed I had lied about being raped, and that I was just crazy. For a long time after that, I hated men. I would freak out if one got near me, or if one just said "hi" to me. I was hospitalized 3 times after that. One of my medications, made me put on around 50 lbs, and with my distorted self-image, that was like putting on 10,000 lbs. I had switched schools, and was now at a private school. I didn't feel accepted, and I became bulimic. Then I got involved with the wrong people, and started passing out pills. There were people dealing them for money, I was dealing for other pills. From there I started starving myself, and forcing myself to throw up. Then the group I was in, that was doing the pills, got busted. I was expelled. I ended up back in the public school system, at a different school. I got into a lot of trouble here. I had a bad attitude, bad conduct, bad behavior, and I started dealing pills again, and this time, it was for money. I got written up a lot, and I hung out with the wrong crowd again. Then I started cutting myself again. My eating disorder came back. The cutting, and the eating disorder came in cycles, some lasting long then others, through my senior year, and a little in college. The cutting leveled off, and I quit doing that my senior year and haven't done that since. My eating disorder was anorexia-bulimia, and it got a lot worse. Even if I drank something, I would throw it up. I threw up even if I was only throwing up stomach acid, drinks, and even blood. I just didn't care. During the time, when I wasn't cutting or dealing with an eating disorder, I met my new boyfriend through a friend. It was the summer before my senior year. We got serious too fast. We were having sex within 2 weeks of our relationship. I said "I love you." He broke it off right then and there. I was devestated. I went off the deep end. I went down the path of just about every self-destructive behaviors you can think of. Heavy drinking, unsafe sex, cutting, starving myself, forcing myself to throw up, etc. Then he e-mailed me, and asked if I wanted to get back with him. I agreed. We started where we left off. Before we had broke it off the first time, he was about to leave for basic training for the Army. When we got back together, he was about to leave for Iraq. He was nice when we first met, but when he came back from basic, he was mean, but I attributed this to that he was nervous about leaving for Iraq. While he was in Iraq, he changed drastically. I tried to be strong for him, but it was really hard. We both were emotional wrecks, we both missed each other so much. I reverted back to my old behaviors. Cutting, and a really bad eating disorder. Then I stopped because I knew that it was wrong, and that this was being weak. He came home on leave, and he was mean. He had a habit of having sex with me, and then disappearing. While he was on leave, he made reference to my scars, which I had already decided that I was gonna quit. He came over to my house, we had sex, and then we got into a huge fight. He went ballistic, and broke it off with me. I actually had been planning on breaking it off with him because of something I had found out about him, that was very shady and even kind of low. But, even then I didn't take it well. We had been talking about getting married and having kids. I became bitter, and depressed, but I got on with my life. I graduated from high school. I went off to college. While there, I was a heavy drinker. Didn't care at all. A bunch of things in college too. I got sick while I was away, and got tested numerous times, but the tests showed nothing. which is good, except I still felt sick and I wanted an explanation. I made an appointment to see a doctor back home. I ended up getting scheduled for a CT scan. It was on Thursday, June 30. On Wednesday, June 29th 2005, I decided to run errands. Despite how sick I felt, it just had to get done. After my first stop, I was thinking that I needed to go home, but I decided that I only had one more stop, and it would be quick. I got my items, and was walking to my car. While I was putting my things in my car, a car stopped behind mine. Once again, I didn't listen to my inner voice telling me that something was very wrong. My gut was telling me to run, but I didn't. A man got out of the passenger side, and approached me. It happened so fast. He grabbed my purse strap, and yanked with all his might, I fought back for a second, but went into shock thinking that this guy might kill me. This time, the guy completely snatched my purse, breaking the strap, and nearly ringing my arm off in the process. I went flying, and hit the pavement hard. I landed on my left, head, shoulder, arm, rib first. I twisted my ankle, and had numerous bruises and scrapes. The force of the fall knocked me out, and when I came too, I was hysterical. A passing car stopped and called 911. It has been several months, and I'm still haunted by this. It's still hard. Many times, I want to give up, but I made a decision. I made a decision to start over. I made a decision to turn over a new leaf. It's in the past. My goals are to be independent, self reliant, and to stand on my own two feet. I'm reinventing myself. Trying to become a better person. I'm learning to love myself, and to respect myself. I'm not with anyone right now, and that's the right thing for me at this time. I personally believe that a support system is most important. Which is why I say that if any of you ever need someone to talk to, someone to listen, or whatever you need, I'm here for all of you. I wish everyone well, and hope everyone is doing well. Happy New Year, and yall take care.
