My Struggles Growing Up (And Overcoming Them)

It always fucks me up to think that things just might be too good to be true.  It seems great, but there's a part of my brain thinking "What if this is all just going to end abruptly.  Then what?"
Well..
I don't really know then what.  All I can do is hope that things are going to work out and that things are not too good to be true.

How can I begin to explain this..
Well growing up, I've tried my hardest to bring myself to trust people.  Never have I completely opened up and let one person into my heart.  I've opened a window but never the door.  I've experienced lies, cheating, betrayal, all of the above and more.  With every disappointment, it's been harder to show anyone the real me in fears of that being the reason everyone seems to hurt me.
I fear that I may say something wrong.  Do something wrong.  Wear the wrong thing.
Not only in relationships but in life in general.  I've gotten WAY better about it since it started (which was in elementary school).  But I can only hope to have that one person by my side to let me know that I'm okay & that I can be me without having to worry about everyone tearing me down.
In elementary school, I always worried about what my hair looks like, what shoes I wore, if I was "cool" enough, my jeans are too high up, my socks are too long, my hair isn't perfect.  I didn't want to be perfect, I just didn't want to appear flawed.  I was constantly bullied for the way I dressed, or the way my hair was, or how I only had one jacket.  In 4th grade, before the bus came to pick me up, I was crying about how my hair didn't look good enough, so what do I do?  I take scissors to my hair.  I chopped my bangs off.  Which made it even worse.  I cried all day at school, ended up throwing up, and went home early.
I never realized how early my whole anxiety thing started until I really started to think back.  In middle school, I was lost.  I didn't know who the hell I was or what "style" I fit into.  Eventually I started getting made fun of even MORE in middle school.  In my mind, I was the ONE person in that school that everyone looked at and laughed at.  Why?  Because that's what my mind wanted to think.  Yeah, sure, a few people made fun of me, but they made fun of everyone.  I just took it as a threat and started to believe that everyone felt that way about me.  I was quiet.  No shit I was quiet, no one was worth talking to and every time I spoke a word, people would stare and say "It speaks!?!" .........
I lost my first friend in 7th grade.  Her name was Elisa Choleva.  Seeing my friend's cold, still body in a casket didn't exactly help with my depression and anxiety growing up.  Sometime after that, I lost another friend.  All of this building up and having no one to tell it to, or even knowing how to explain it if I had someone to tell it to.  Yeah.  That wasn't exactly the highlight of my life.
By the end of 7th grade, I started to self-harm.  I would take a safety pin and start cutting at my wrists.  I would cut at my ankles, my legs, my stomach, my chest, anything that could be easily hidden.  It was my only outlet at the time.  The only way I could possibly see myself getting rid of the pain.  I had a close friend that I talked to about it in a notebook that we would pass between classes.  Eventually, a teacher took away my notebook.  Which changed my life forever.
Of course the teacher being the bitch she was, read the entire notebook from front to back, but I'm glad she did.  The counselor called me down and demanded to see my wrists which I covered with wristbands every day.  She called my mom, put her on speaker phone, and had me tell her what I've done.  (Not the best form of intervention, but okay.)
My parents took everything away from me as if I was being punished for failing a test.  They took my music, my notebooks, my cell phone, my computer privileges, everything.  All I could possibly do was sit in my room alone with my thoughts.  The rest of middle school after that is a blur.
The summer before high school is when I realized I needed to do something.  I needed to find myself and get better.
My dad enrolled me into this "rock band camp" that was two weeks long, 5 hours a day, or some shit.  I had such horrible anxiety about this that before I would leave, I needed at least an hour or two to throw up.  I was so nauseous and I kept telling myself that I'm a failure, I'm going to mess up, I'm going to do something wrong, I'm going to disappoint my dad.
After rock band camp, everything returned back to normal, and I was fine.
But then came the first day of high school.  I threw up twice that morning, and then again when I got there.  Good times.  -_-
But after that first day, things started to finally look up.  I met some very awesome people and reconnected with some, too.  I started to let down my walls and by the second week of high school, I was already a very sociable person.  I had such a great group of friends.  They were so welcoming and caring and brightened my day.  Every time I'd go to school, I'd get showered with hugs, haha.  In the course of my first year of high school, I had my first kiss, I stopped self-harming, I met a great group of friends that potentially saved my life, I came out to my parents (thats a whole other story), and I had my first relationship.
I had quite a few friends die throughout my highschool years.  But I am just glad that I had the chance to know them before their time was up.
I can't say that high school was the best years of my life, those are still to come.  But I can say that high school potentially saved my life, and helped me find myself.
To this day, I have had a few horrific experiences that sparked up my anxiety, but in all, I like to believe that I'm getting better.  I keep the negative people out of my life, and the real friends in my life.  I surround myself with good people, and that's what makes life worth it.

I guess what I'm trying to get at (after my whole life story) is that I have never learned to trust anyone.  I've been bullied, I've been hurt by others (and myself), and I've been heart broken.  But I want to put all of that behind me and start to open not only my windows, but also my door.