My name is Ocean, and yes that is my real name. I’m 17 and from Canada. I have the cutest boyfriend ever.
I guess we could start off with the PTSD and with that comes my anxiety and depression. I’ve never had that “typical” or “normal” family. I grew up with sexual assault and I never knew what a real childhood was supposed to be like. I went 8 years of my life without a mother because her addictions had taken over her. Finally I thought things would for once get better as soon i had moved in with my father, until he dropped me off at my grandmothers one day and never came back. I never really had anyone to rely on fully and trust completely because everyone who was supposed to be there left me. I started harming myself in grade 6. Cutting. Burning. Scratching. Looks are very deceiving so it wasn’t that hard to hide how sad i really was. No one ever knew the effects their “jokes” they made at me, calling me baby whale. Sure I got used to it until i started getting bullied in grade 8 and getting into lots of fights. My two bestfriends I opened up to turned on me, turned everyone on me it felt like. They would call me out on my past, my mother, and me being fat and ugly. I was never happy with the way i looked and they knew that. They were the only ones who knew how much I really hated my body. Never have I ever been okay with my body. I remember being 7 years old and worrying about how fat i looked or how big my stomach was. Constantly sucking in, scared to wear bathing suits. When you’re supposed to be playing with dolls and not caring about a thing in the world i was obsessing with my weight. A new addiction started to grow. It was about grade 9 when i started skipping meals and started to purge. Obsessed with losing weight at this point. falling deeper and deeper into depression aswell. Cutting myself more frequently. Everyday. Multiple times a day. At school. At home. Always had a blade on me. It got really bad. I still have some scars to this day. Eventually cutting myself wasnt enough. I started to consider suicide alot. More than you should probably. I had note written out, almost memorized. Until I was admitted into the hospital for the first time, I thought i was fine after. Things werent so bad for a couple of weeks, until my cravings came back. I started cutting again and purging again. Things were going downhill once again, getting admitted to the hospital multiple times. Until I met someone who was there for me, someone understood everything that was happening and accepted me for who I was. I found someone who I could depend on. I thought i lost him at one point, really considered killing myself. Considered it so much I ended up in the hospital. This kid is not only my boyfriend but my bestfriend. I have nothing to live for but him and his family. They never had to care for me the way they do. I ask myself ‘why’ everyday. I always wonder what brought me to such a great support system? So if you ever question whether there is someone out there who cares about you there is. I care about you. I may not know you but I still care about you. Only because YOU are worth it. You’re worth so much more then you think. You’re smarter than you think, stronger than you think, and you deserve more than you believe. I know what its like to have no shoulder to cry on so I want to be apart of your support system, I want to help you. When you’re upset or on the verge of giving up i want you to come to me I may not have the best advice but I’ll always try my hardest, and even if you just need someone to talk to I’m always here.