Hey, my name’s Erin. I guess you came here to find out about me. I was born March 17, 1997. I have two brothers, three sisters. A mom, a dad, and a step-dad. I have three nephews, and a niece. Two step-brothers, and a step-sister-in-law.
I’m not going to lie, for the first few years of my life everything was perfect. Then one day, everything changed when my parents got divorced.
Have you ever heard of child protection services? They came and took me, my sisters, my brother, and my mom away from my dad, other sister, and other brother. That’s when my life turned to hell. My mom started to date an abusive, alcoholic, sick, son of a bitch. Somehow she managed to keep him away from us, but when my guardian came to check on me and saw him there, I was taken away again.
I went to live with my dad. I played softball, I got good grades, I laughed, I smiled, but I was never really happy. Never. When I was in the fourth grade my dad introduced me to his girlfriend, who would one day be his wife. I cried and cried. I told him from the beginning I did not like this woman, he kept telling me it was only because she was not my mom. When he married her, the “kind” woman she was disappeared. She screamed, she yelled, she was emotionally abusive. She would refuse to feed me because I was too fat. Once going as far as telling me that “fat children were not allowed in her house.” She would wake me up in the middle of the night screaming in my face because of something her children did. I hardly ever left my room. Because I was not her daughter, Lauren, I was nothing. The only thing she ever did for me was make that phone call so that I could talk to my mom for the first time in seven years.
I started to cut myself. It was how I learned to breathe again. The emotional pain was too much, I needed to become numb. As time wore on, I began to cut to feel, I was so numb. After awhile, cutting became the only thing I knew. Now, I am trying to forget life involving self-injury. I’m trying to forget how it feels to lust for death.
I found A Day To Remember doing just that. A Day To Remember gave my the strength to pull through a suicide attempt, and they continue to give me strength to pull through life.
Is this my whole life story? No. But it’s all that’s needed to know.