After spending many of my childhood years living in a traumatic environment, subjected to sexual exploitation, intense bulling and cruelty by my step father and mother, I had to come to terms with the reality of suffering from PTSD. Throughout my teenage years I was depressed, anxious and homeless. Not wanting to return to the ‘family’ which caused me so much pain, I slept on friends couches and went to the extremes to have a bed to sleep in that was away from ‘home’. As I grew older I struggled more and more, I sought help. The counselling was a bust to start with. The NHS staff saw me as an attention seeking teenager, not giving me the chance or a safe place to open up about my abuse. It was not until I met my now husband, that I felt I had found a way out of the mental torture. Years spent finding the right therapists, taking medication daily and numerous lapses of attempted suicides brought me to the brink. I had a breakdown. Terrible, terrifying and lonely. Those are the worse to describe what I went through. It lasted over three years, after taking my life in a most horrendous way. I died. No white light no flashing memories, just darkness. When I was brought too, I KNEW I had to live, regardless if i wanted to or not, I knew In the end I’d be grateful of another chance to life. Now this is me, wanting to fulfil that promise and to live life to the utmost. Doing the one thing that will prove that I have ‘done it’, Trek to the base of the highest peak in the world, the sense of accomplishment and the closure of past. A spiritual end to a gruesome fight with the demon that is PTSD.