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| After my last post I climbed into bed and wrapped my arms around him, and I realised I never want to let him go. I'd be broken if I lost him. We've been through alot together and he's always been there for me. We're always careful, but I'm scared I might be pregnant. I told my Mum that my period is late and she calmly told me to leave it for another week and if I still hadn't had it we'd go out and get a test. I'm trying not to worry but it's always in the back of my mind. What am I going to do if I am? I feel selfish saying this but I just got my life back to normal, I really don't need this. 
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| I love liam, I really do, but recently I've been doubting us. Two years is a long time together, and i've loved every minute of it, but can you really love someone for so long? It feels different than at the beggining, of course it does, but we say it so often. "I love you", is a daily routine, everytime we're together, "I love you". I don't know what I'm really trying to say. Do I still love him? I think so, I hope so. How can you tell when you've been together for so long. Does the fact I'm getting choked up right now mean anything? Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if it ended. It's always me that's ending it though, Liam is heartbroken; he would be. I'm crying now. Oh god, what does this mean? 
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| I'm back after a long break. Whilst I've been away alot has changed (for the good). I've changed medication and I honestly feel like a new person. I enrolled on a Beauty Therapy course at college and I've recently started, and I'm currently looking for a job to earn some money. I feel like a new person compared to the one who wrote the last post on here. Reading through it just now made me feel quite sad. It was like I was reading something someone else had written, a very sad, lost person. But right now i'm good. Dare I say happy? Yes. I think I am! 
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| Over the last couple of weeks it's been getting worse. It sneaks up on you. You don't realise until it's got so bad you can no longer ignore it, and even then you only notice it because the people around you make comments every now and then. It's true though; what have I done with myself these last couple of weeks? I've just slept it all away, apart from the day I managed to get fired from my new job. I stay up as long as my mind will let me, then I crawl into bed and hope that I don't have to come out. Every time I start to do something with my life, like start college or manage to get a job, it comes back. I don't want it to control my life anymore. I've had enough, I want my life back! 
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| If I was to meet my birth parents when I turn eighteen next year, what I would want to say more than anything is that I remember everything. I can picture it; “I remember everything” – the smile would disappear of their faces and guilt would fill their eyes. When I think about it it’s so clear in my mind, like watching a movie. They would be waiting for me eagerly at the train station waiting for me. Watching every young woman closely in case they missed me. Finally, I’d step off the train and I’d see them but they wouldn’t see me until I walked over to them. I lived with my birth parents up until I was six years old. Obviously, I don’t remember much of the early years, but what I do remember I wish I didn’t. I remember moving around a lot, house to house and flat to flat. At one point we were homeless and ended up living in dodgy hotels and hostels for as long as we could before we got thrown out or until we couldn’t afford to stay anymore. I remember being left alone a lot having to look after my baby sister on my own. I remember one time my birth Dad went out and whilst he was out my mum had some of the heroin my birth parents shared and told me not to tell Daddy. I didn’t but he found out anyway and went mental. When my birth Dad got high he got violent. One time he grabbed a kitchen knife and lunged at my birth Mum. She struggled with my birth Dad and told me to shout for help out the window. I climbed on top of the toilet and opened the tiny window but I was too scared to do anything, I don’t remember how it ended but no one was hurt. Another time my birth Dad came back to our hotel room in a drugged up rage. He smashed the TV and yelled at me to throw the newspaper out of the window; which I did. Seconds later he asked me where the newspaper was. Confused, I told him that he had told me to throw it out of the window. He then jumped onto the window ledge and whilst my birth Mum screamed in horror he jumped out of the window breaking both his legs. The ambulance was called and me and my sister sat on the stairs and watched all of the commotion as did everyone else in the hostel. There were many times when the police came to arrest my birth Dad or search the house for drugs. Eventually one night when my birth Dad was in hospital after he had broken his legs, my birth Mum told me and my sister that she was going to the post office in the morning for a short while and she’d be back as soon as she could. I asked if we could come with her to get some sweets and she said yes. The next morning I was woken by a lot of banging on the door and I realised my birth Mum was nowhere to be seen, I was scared and didn’t know what to do so I grabbed my sister and hid in the wardrobe with her. Seconds after the door was kicked down and I heard people searching the room. Suddenly the wardrobe opened and a policeman grabbed me and the policewoman must have grabbed my sister. I remember screaming and kicking as he slung me over his shoulder. I later learned that my birth Mum had called the Social Services and told them where we were. I might write more about my life, maybe. 
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