Never-good-enough• Show poetry

Where to Begin...
My name is Jade Onawa.
I am eighteen years of age... Instead of making my page sound generic and like someone has already written it for me... I will update you with the last few years and explain to you why writing is so important to me.
...Age 13- found out the dad I always have known as my dad isn't my biological father (I want nothing to do with my biological father because my dad has been there with me since the day I was born), but this screwed me up so much, that I started cutting, and at first, it was just a release from reality, cause I found it easier to focus on pain I've caused for myself, rather than the pain that I had no control over. (continued to do this until I was 17, stopped a little over a year ago, and unfortunately had a little slip- I was drunk and crying, and I regret it, but nothing can change it now)
...Age 15- started drinking regularly (I really do believe for atleast a year, I was a sick alcoholic- not to the point of physically needing it, like sweats, and all that, but I did need it mentally) I also started smoking weed regularly, to the point that I needed it when I woke up, before I went to school, while at school atleast 3 times (usually both breaks and lunch, WHEN I would actually stay the whole day at school), I would need it at my job, at family events, before I went to bed and worst of all, even when I was alone.
...Age 16- there's no other way to say this: I was raped.
...Age 17- I finally decided to go to rehab; but unfortunately I think sub conciously- I only did it to get EVERYONE off my fucking back, because I was so sick of people judging, and so sick of getting in shit from my parents. Let's just say rehab wasn't the greatest... While I was there, on my 30 days sober; someone there had a few flaps of coke, and decided to give me one. I had a weekend pass for going home, and the first thing I did was smoke weed, do mushrooms and get passed-out drunk. I decided I could just smuggle smokes into rehab and we were literally all smokin' in the grrl's room, this lasted about a week until I got caught. And while there, I fell in love. I thought it would take me a lifetime to find somebody to share that kind of love with... and BAM, there I find it in REHAB- rehab out of ALL place. I should have known just from that, that this wasn't going to be a good idea. A year and a half later, I still can't think of anybody else... when I'm in bed with somebody, or even kissing somebody, the only image that pops into my head are the repressed memories of being raped, and the love of my life... mixing those two memories together usually don't end well for me. My mom always told me to go find a boy who loves me more than I love him, and I didn't understand why until now. I know he does love me, but I don't think it's the same kind of love as I feel for him, and because of that, I'm the one that suffers.
ANYWASE- I know people out there have had it worse than me, but this is my story, and I want to tell it. I'm not telling to get any pity, because I don't want that... I just want people to know the shit I have gone through cause perhaps you can relate to me, or even maybe I could help talk to somebody about it. After the last 5 years, the one thing I can say I will never be more proud of myself for is my GRADUATION on June 24th, 2009. Somehow I managed school, and to not get behind in the years. I can tell you, everything I went through was worth it, cause I had someone there with me through this all- usually my parents.... because I would rather have dealt with all of this as a teen, then be 26, and on my own, and then try to deal with this. As for drugs and alcohol- I can't seem to find the light in that tunnel.... maybe someday I will....
Anywase, this was long, and perhaps boring, but I think I did a pretty good damn job at making this NOT sound generic.