My life isn't the worst, but its not the greatest eather. When I was 11 my parents devorced and my mother admitted her hatered for me. She would always try to get me to live with her, to be her slave. But I was smarter than her. Not just because she never made it as far as I have into school, but because she is very preditable.
My half-brother, Zach, and my half sister, Tiffany, tried to help me. But I didn't want it. I felt as if I could figure out everything myself. But in the end I just ended up cutting myself.
Once school started, everyone just stared at me. I always hid under the tree, reading or writing. No one has ever liked me. The only time I was talked to was when they wanted something from me, be it answers to their homework or life advice. Every other day I was picked on for being the emo loner with no life.
When I hit 7th grade i switched schools and made a friend. Andrew. Granted, he was 1st my boyfriend and then my friend, but he is my best friend still. Although people picked on me, (even teachers) suprisingly, the guys and some girls began to ask me out. But I wasn't interested in them, they all looked alike, (and not just because it was a uniform school) talked alike and acted alike. But I stuck to sitting under the tree writing or talking to Andrew.
My self-esteem slowly rose up again. I began a passion for wrighting about my life and how insane I am. But I still have hard times where no one can get me out of my trance of hate. When a person brings up there dead relative, I think back, back when my aunt died and my motther cheated on my dad and revealed her hate for me. How I was hated for so long, unloved, no friends. The events go through my head till i get to the part where I was happy again. Happy that I have 1 friend that I love. And thats how my life made me insane