This is who I am

My name is Annastasia. Well that is the name I have given myself.
I recently turned 18 and live with my family.
There's a lot people don't know about me.
its more over the past 3 years that has shaped me to what I am now.
I moved out from living with my parents and brother to live with my grandparents and uncle. While there I started to get depressed all the more about my life. When living with my parents I knew I didn't like my life, but I was always kept busy to really let it take affect on me I guess. I stopped eating. just watched tv and chatted with people all over the world on my computer. I don't remember how or why, but I wanted to know what it felt like to cut myself. So yes I tried it. just on my leg. was minor and didn't bother with it for a few months. My best friend (who lived far away unfortunately) use to cut and was anorexic. she hadn't cut for awhile and needed to again so I did it with her so she wasn't alone. That was the best it had ever felt. I did it pretty good, on my arm, where I figured my between elbow and wrist felt great. I did it again a few days later. then it went awhile. Minor emotional things would happen and I tried other places. Hip line, rib, stomach, back, I even tried to do side of my neck. my family had no clue. Guys had taken advantage of me and I've been hurt from a lot of things. I felt cutting was a release. When upset I'd let out all the emotions with the blood or just with the sting of a minor cut. I felt I had no control over my life and that was the only way. It was a way to show myself that I am strong. I can deal with the pain of it, and I wouldn't cry. Whenever I'd want to cry I'd cut, it kept my mind off of that and let the emotion out and I was strong cause I handled the cut and cause I didn't cry. I had a friend I looked up to and asked why I'd feel I needed to do that, he asked me logical questions which I was unable to answer. So he turned it around on my logic which only showed me all the more reason to continue and not stop. He said I was scared of it that's why I wanted to stop. That I did it for attention, I just covered it up cause of my subconscious. I ended up doing more cutting. This time on both my arms. repeatedly in line from elbow going down. that was the most I'd done. later I said I was done. New years eve I said to say goodbye to it. I did one big cut down my arm. and two going across that. I now have a prominent scar. My mother had seen it and took my knives away. I could find something else to cut with, a part of my really wants to. to do it bad like I did on other arm. I love my arms, I don't like all to see, for them to mock me or ask questions. Its just where I feel best. If my mother sees if I do it again she said she'll put me into a mental hospital "maybe they can figure out what's wrong with you"
a part of me wants to go. Then I'd be away from here. Maybe they'll actually understand. But I never was really bad with it before. I wouldn't do it often nor that bad. Now I want to do it bad everyday.
I'm trapped within myself.
And I don't know how to get out.