I like to think I'm alright now. I mean, I'm 24 years old. I have my own things in life and my own family. I like to think I'm grounded and unbreakable against the pains of the past. But in all honesty, I'm more fragile, more sensitive, and more complex than ever. What used to be memories I could easily shake off for a day or two, are now all I can think about. It's hard to go to people in the real world who know you, who know what you've been through.. but don't know the weight, pain, and burden of it.. I don't really know how to start off with explaining and describing my abuse and the things that were done to me. I think that's just the mind's way of protecting oneself. Because I'm scared. I'm scared of remembering anything else that was done to me.. I was just 6 years old when it all happened. It started out as pictures. As a young girl, of course I never would've thought this was strange. Now, I feel disgusting, knowing that what happened after these photos would be 3 years worth abuse. Then those 3 years of abuse would snowball to years of hate for myself. I hated myself for so many years. I fell heavily down a dark hole when I realized what was done to me was ugly and disgusting. My abuse caused me to have this very contorted view of myself as a person. I ended up self harming, falling into eating disorders, and taking pills. I stopped planning for the future. I was so convinced I wouldn't make it past a certain age. It's been a long journey looking back. I often wish I can go back in time and tell my younger self, it's a hard battle, but we're still here. I'm still trying.