2012- My Worst Year Yet

8th grade. Supposed to be the most memorable year of my life so far. And it is. But not for good reasons. It all started when my parents legalized their divorce. They had been seperated for a year now and were ready to make it official. Problem was.. My mom got custody of me and molly. I didn't want that. She always hit me and made me feel worthless. Like I'm not worthy enough to be her daughter. Not worthy like Molly. The funny thing is, Molly, is the screwup. She did drugs, snuck out, had sex. I didn't do that. But I was still the unwanted one. So mom got custody. I told her I didn't want to live with her. And for once, she actually let me an Molly stay with our dad. I also, trusted 2 more people; Elizabeth and Chris. Elizabeth cut too, and understood most of what I went through. Chris however, hated the fact that I cut. He would get so angry with me or Elizabeth if either one of us cut. But he didn't understand, we don't want to, but it sometimes feels like we have to. It's an urge to take the anger out that you just can't ignore. For people reading this, I sound like a hypocrite with what I am about to say: don't cut. Unless you know what your doing. Because the first time I cut myself, I stabbed right through my vein. Blood sprayed everywhere but I didn't get help. I crawled to my bathroom and let my floor turn red with blood. God was with me that night. I could've died because I didnt get help. Luckily, I lived. So that's the lesson. You could get hurt even worse than you imagined. Like I did. Chrises girlfriend dumped him, and we started kinda talking. He helped me get through my problems, and I appreciate that so much. My life took a turn again, my lifetime babysitter linda, who was practically my mother since I've known her since I was three, developed a sudden and serious case of pancreatic cancer. I thought it was all going to be okay, until I got the call. Linda had an allergic reaction to something from her chemotherapy. She was rushed into the ICU. She was unconscious for around 25 hours, and then she woke up. She told me that she was a lost cause, that she should give up and die. But I told her to fight. And fight she did. She got a surgery a few weeks ago, they're still doing checks, but it looks like the cancer is going away. I rejoiced. I was so happy that Linda will survive. But like usual, after one storm comes another. My father told me and my sister that he had to leave and go take care of my grandma, who was sickly ill. We made our prayers and sent him off. For two weeks I was an emotional wreck, full of worry an guilt. Worry, because she always gets sick and might not make it, and guilty, because remember in the background? I said, I developed an issue, where I blamed myself for everything? It was happening again. All I could think about was of I hadnt sent my grandfather away... Maybe... Just maybe, grandma wouldn't have gotten so sick, so weak. 3 days before my dads arrival, my sister got an email. Saying that my grandmother had died the other night, and that he would have to stay and make funeral arrangements. I was broken. It's my fault. I thought, all my fault. I raced to my room and cried and cried, the whole weekend