"My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth."

- ‭‭1 John‬ ‭3:18‬‬

My parents got to a point where they were constantly asking my grandparents and aunt to take care of me. I was happy spending more time with my aunt and grandparents because I had nobody at home for me otherwise. I also started the new school I stayed with until I graduated high school. Even at this new school, I was not accepted because of my mental health problems until high school. None of the teachers knew about my parents' issues at home either, so in third grade, I failed like usual. And my teachers got frustrated with me because of my problems, and I had no support at home.

However, things started to change a little. One day, a girl who is still my best friend today was sitting alone at lunch, so she got up and talked to me. From that day on, we played and spent a lot of time together. I wouldn't trade her for the world. She is a blessing from God and has always been.

Meanwhile, my aunt and grandparents noticed that my parents didn't seem to be involved in my life at all. My aunt picked me up from school one day like she usually did and brought me to her house (my aunt and grandparents live together). One day, I told my aunt about something my mother did while she was drunk (I don't want to talk about it, but it's the reason why I went without letting anyone touch my head. I wouldn't even cut my hair because of what she did to me.)

My aunt looked shocked and asked why she would do that. I told my aunt she was drunk. She was very upset about this, and I tried to calm her down by saying I was used to being treated like this because of my issues at home, but that only made her angrier. My aunt investigated this incident and found out about the alcohol and neglect at home. She threatened to take legal action against my parents, and eventually, they gave up and let my aunt adopt me. From then on, I could only see my parents on weekdays at night.

When I started living with my aunt and grandparents, my cousin was just a toddler (but we started to call each other sisters), and I withdrew from the church. I thought God hated me, especially after what my mother did to me. My relationship with my parents, especially with my mother, was so bad that my toddler sister would ask me, "does your mommy not love you? Do you not love your mommy?" To this day, my feelings towards my mother are still complicated.

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I wasn't doing well in school, and my family would get so mad at me because of it. My third and fifth-grade teachers told me I was "living in a re*tard world" several times. I started to have hateful thoughts toward myself.

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I went through so much stress as a child with my mother's alcoholism, my battle with autism, and my family not wanting me that I developed an illness as a child. I was sick all the time and would throw up violently due to anxiety all the time for years. The sickness caused me to have growing problems, weakness, and black marks around my eyes that I still have today. I was sick constantly and spent a lot of time in hospitals and other clinics. Almost every doctor shrugged it off and said I was faking for attention and that I couldn't possibly be stressed enough to be sick at such a young age.

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When I was 13 years old, I was miserable with school, my family, and myself, and I thought God hated me. I distanced myself from Him at all costs and started physically harming myself.

I would hit myself in the head and tear my arms with razors. I'd hit my head so hard that my vision would get blurry, and my head would ache for hours. I thought I wasn't worth anything to anyone. If you would've told me God loved me, I wouldn't have believed you.