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Ok I don't know how to quite start this but here goes. I apologize in advance because this is going to be a long post...
I have been going through a really rough time lately and I need some advice. Most importantly though, I just feel like I need to vent a little as I really have no one to talk to. I should probably be talking to a psychiatrist about some of these things but posting them on here is much cheaper...
Before I tell you my current problem, I'll give you some background information. I was born in Central America and, by American standards, I was very poor. By standards down there, I was pretty well off because we had a home and never went hungry. When I was very young-I don't remember exactly how old I was- I was raped by a neighbor. It took a long time but I think I have recently gotten over this. Although as I child I remember I would have nightmares about it and as I got older I just repressed it. My next setbacks occurred when both my father and mother left to come to the United States. I couldn't understand it at the time but it was definitely very hard on me as that created some abandonment issues which I just recently got over. I was left in the care of my grandparents, who thank god, were very loving and nurturing. However, during my stay with my grandparents I was molested several times by one of my cousins. At this point I was about 7 or so.
Just as I was getting settled in and comfortable, I was made aware that I'd be coming to the United States. The trip to United States could be a whole another long post, as I came here illegally. I came with my 2 sisters and lots of strangers. All I'll say is that the trip was something I'll never forget. For me, getting to the US was the easy part. Living here and getting acclimated to a whole new way of life was mind blowing. All this at the age of 9!
Our living conditions here weren't exactly ideal. My two sisters, my parents, and I all shared one room in a three bedroom apartment. We were pressed for space to say the least but I really didn't mind it. We shared the apartment with several uncles and aunts and my grandmother from my mom's side. I don't know how many city codes and ordinances we broke, but by my count, there was at a point about 16 people living in a 3 bedroom apartment. Yes, we Hispanics sure know how to pack people in, whether it be cars or apartments! ---That was a joke---.
Anyway, as soon as I came I started school. Right away, I was very out of place. I had never attended school my whole life and I started off in the 2nd grade. I made a few friends but it was a real struggle. Meanwhile, things back home were not going so well. My mom worked two jobs, one part time as a cook and one full time cleaning offices. My dad worked from about 9 to 7 as a mechanic. I never really built a relationship with my parents since they were always away. The one parent we had around most of the time- my dad- did a pretty lousy job. He was overly strict and way too angry. He wouldn't let us go out and sometimes, wouldn't even let us leave our room. As time went by, I grew further and further apart from them, and I lost my self in a world of books and Nintendo.
It was also during this time that I also lost a lot of my friends. By the time fifth grade came around, my teacher the year prior really pushed me to enroll in the "gifted" class. I did, and now I'm glad I did. That year though was pretty tough. I was the only Latino kid in a class of about 30 students or so. I only had one friend that year, an Indian boy who happened to be the only other non-white student. I felt alienated, both at home and at school.
During this time is when my depression set in. I would spend hours reading, watching TV, and eating. By the time, fifth grade was over I was a pretty chubby kid. I actually didn't also finish 5th grade at this school as about half way through the year, we moved. Once again, I was in a completely new environment. I didn't really get a chance to get settled in because I went to the middle school for 6th grade. Once again though I did my best to adapt. Slowly I did, as I made some very good friends that year.
Things kind of fell apart at home though during 7th grade. My sister got pregnant at age 14 and that deeply affected me. She, being the oldest, had become sort of like a mother figure for me. When she left with her boyfriend, I was pretty devastated. I would have survived intact had we not moved again at the end of that year. For 8th grade I came to a whole new school. I lost touch with all of my friends. I slipped into further depression. I don't know how, but instead of acting up, I devoted myself completely to my studies and video games. I became quite the dork. Worst yet, I had developed an eating problem. Whenever I was sad or depressed I would binge eat. It certainly didn't help that I switched schools once again in 9th grade as I started high school.
I was so lost, hurt and dazed my freshman year I don't remember anything r

Sorry to hear that you've had such a rough time for so long. I really think you might benefit from working with a therapist in order to address the repercussions of your early sexual abuse and the traumas of poverty, emigrating, etc. At a minimum you should be evaluated for post traumatic stress disorder and depression, and treated, if necessary. Best of luck. And please let us know how things go.

Thanks. I think just finally writing it down has helped a lot...

It sure sounds like you experienced plenty of adversity growing up. Like you said, though, it's good to get it all out and talk about it. As cliche as it may sound, it really makes a big difference when you talk through your experiences and realize how they affect you. I would strongly suggest you find someone you can trust, even if not a professional, and lay out what you've been through and how it made you feel. The best way to move past these bad experiences is to admit them and deal with them rather than continue to try and ignore them. Best of luck!