At some point in life you find yourself looking at the people around you in a light you hadn’t before and slowly you begin to compare yourself to them. This ends one of two ways, you become annoyed that you’re just like them or scared because you’re not.

I always knew that I wasn’t quite like everyone else. I liked things most didn’t and disliked things most loved. I was angry with out reason most of the time. I had zero self esteem so I tormented my family because well because they were stuck with me. Just like I was. None of us could escape.

As I grew older the differences between me and the rest of the world became clearer then ever. I never felt comfortable any where. I knew something wasn’t right with me but I was more afraid that everyone else would figure it out. That they would look at me and know all those terrible thoughts I had all the time and the morbid way I looked at everything around me. That they would figure out that I wasn’t just a difficult child but that I was a broken one.

I wasn’t really sure why I was the way I was. Why I was so angry and mean. Why I enjoyed things like pain and the darkness. As I got older it just got worse. I went from a difficult child to an out of control teenager. Some doctors even told my mom I was dangerous. She didn’t want to hear it she wanted to take care of her daughter and not just lock her away some place. I became trapped inside my own head with my biggest enemy….Myself.

Eventually those doctors turned out to be right. I was dangerous. I was 16 when I almost killed my mother. The woman who spent my whole life fighting for me and standing up for me and defending and protecting me in moments when I didn’t deserve any of it. I was drugging her with my sleeping medication. Mixing them in her soda when she wasn’t looking and waiting for her to fall asleep so I could sneak out and do drugs and hang out with my boyfriend and friends. Those medications mixed with the heart medication she was on that I hadn’t paid enough attention to know about almost killed her.

In that moment I became what she had feared. Unaware of how to convey they things happening to me the next few chapters of my story were long and dark and sometimes scary.

Don’t be ashamed of your story. It will inspire others