She Wrote Love on Her Arms with Pain Introduction

So I am not Renee Yohee the founder of She Wrote Love on Her Arms. I have met and talked with her, though. She inspired me to write a powerful book about my life. Just some insight. I had a terrible childhood and it is bringing me to the breaking point. I am twenty years old. I am a sophmore in college. I trust in the Lord my God!

This is my life’s story and how God is taking me on a journey of a lifetime. I grew up in a really, really abusive home. My mom had me at seventeen. My dad kicked her out before I was born. This year my grandmother, who adopted me, told me a story about my dad kicking my mom out when she was pregnant with me and at the point of death. She apparently had a life threatening STD. She crawled across the street to a pay phone. She denied this and called my grandmother crazy of course. But I believe my grandmother. When my grandmother adopted me, she was mentally ill. She just could not handle it. I do not blame her because my brother and I, along with all of her other troubles, were a complete and utter handful. I continued to live with my grandmother, with the exception of the two times that I moved out, until I was eighteen and I graduated High School. When I was twelve she married a man that continuously molested me and probably would have raped me if I had let him. I had to live with this man for six grueling, painful years. My sick grandmother did not believe me when I told her what he had done. I thought about suicide many times. Though, I never attempted it. I am only still alive today because of my faith, my hope, in Jesus Christ. When I came to college I thought that it would all just magically get better. I thought that it would disappear. Boy, was I wrong. The horrors of my past have followed me and even though I have gone to counseling, I do not really feel that it is helping. Maybe it was until Christmas break. I decided to give my biological mother, who my grandmother had allowed me to stay in touch with through the years, another chance. I know, how many does she need? But she was my mother. She at least loved me at one point and time according to my grandmother. Well, I went to stay with her for a week and a half over Christmas break and she lives with an alcoholic who abuses my eight-year-old brother. She treated me like a child, even though I am twenty years old. She always blamed me for everything. I could not take it anymore. I had lived in a normal, non-alcoholic society for a year and a half. Her alcoholic boyfriend threw me out of the house at midnight in less than thirty-degree weather one night. I stayed out there for hours. She allowed him to do this. That was the last straw. I honestly cannot see myself ever giving her yet another chance. I eat to suppress the horrors of my past. I need guidance, more than a mere therapist can give me. This was part of an e-mail that I had sent a woman by the name of Renee. She is the one that started “She wrote love on her arms.” This is my crying out. This is my begging for some glint of hope. This book is not a book of someone’s past. It is a book of not only my past, but of my present. For I am still going through it. I am still going through hell. That makes this book unique. For any reader gets to see what I know God is going to do for me in my life. Any reader gets to see a miracle.