Is there any easy way to put my life into words? I hope so because my life, well it’s not the easiest to comprehend. You might think my life is so easy but it really isn’t. You know a typical might be mommy and daddy getting married, having kids and then there kids are all grown up and rising their kids. Well my life is nothing like that. My name is Isabella, but everybody calls me Bella and so can you. My dad’s name is Marcob James, but like me he’s often called Mark and well my fabulous mother’s name is Elizabeth Cristtine but called Elliez. Where to start? Maybe the fact that my dad has problems. You might be thinking so what if he has problems everybody has problems, but it depends on what type of problems you mean by that, well in this case its bipolarize. To be bipolar, it’s a big deal, one second you could be as calm as a lily floating in pond and the next as angry as a fire blooming from its flames. Daddy doesn’t really care about much, only about his cars, his money and his stuff. My mom and I don’t make it in his list, but someday we will. Someday when he’s all alone, with no one to help him pass his time hell need us, but that time is long out of our reach. I used to dream about being normal and all, not be called names because of my condition and actually being famous and having my past all go away. I bet you’re wondering what condition I have well it’s not that bad, but having to struggle with it day by day, well it becomes kind of a burden. I have Attention Hyperactivity Deficit Disorder, ADHD for short. I get all hyper and start bugging everyone and have to take pills to keep me calm. It’s really not that much but also dealing with my dad and all well it’s kind of weird. I don’t have friends because no one really likes me, I’m fat, ugly and hyper, well there you have a combination. I hate being me and seeing everybody around me so beautiful and smart and of course what I envy the most normal. Being normal is that thing that I want most in this world but can’t seem to achieve, ever. I wish I were part of the ARYAN race, where everyone’s perfect and all, I bet everybody would love me there, no struggles, just plain fun. I can’t sincerely imagine what it must be like having me as a daughter, must be pain having to watch me suffer in this cruel world and everyday wanting to be normal and just not getting it. Well one thing’s for sure, at least I’m smart, and skipped three grades in elementary school because they said I didn’t fit it in with those kids, but I never do. Can you imagine being me? Being 13 and being in 10th grade, and still being the highest grade of the class even though you’re the smallest of them all. It was tough getting bullied around for being smart, that’s a thing one should be celebrating not mourning. I cannot yet understand the perspective that they see me in. My teachers used to tell me they envied me, just because they wondered how I saw the world around me. I don’t get it. I was just a thirteen year old girl in the tenth grade with ADHD, a bipolar dad and a mom struggling to always put me first, yeah I totally understand why they envy me, but someday I will, just not today.