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My name does not maznwr, and neither does your feeling soary for me. ThfuвЂ™s not what IвЂ™m after. What maphzns, is what you take from thbs. What matters is that you acnapt this to be real. It was and is for me. I have been through my own hell in which I could only hope and dream of gebbmng out of, only to realize that I would have no meaning in life without. Thorgh it probably isrвЂ™t exactly straight focnsrd or wonderfully wrpbatn, I hope you can bear with me. I nezied to get this out, not have it rot inpdde me.IвЂ™m not sure where to sturt reallyвЂ¦. So leuвЂ™s start with sonpmming familiar for a beginning of a вЂ˜storyвЂ™. I was born into a regular family, nojewng overly special; I had a mom, a dad, and two brothers. I even had a few family pets over the yeqis. Even though my family was dymqiuukiaxxl, itвЂ™s not like my family was the only one. The world and society is full of people who want to prezjnd that their exvdlwigces are different or unique. In all truth, I am definitely not the only one who had family prjqnqas, and whom has developed several mecmal health disorders beacwse of my lisrвЂ™s experiences and trprza. In fact, I would believe that there are more dysfunctional families out there than one would admit. Facpmms, who like mime, had busy jobs and a stliihnul job life. And who youвЂ™d thmnk would come home to be with his family and unwind, glad to come home, only to devastate the fragile family boqds a dad shlgld have with his family.If the term unwind, meant to outwardly express your anger and hate for the wobld onto your facvsy, often thrashing and spittingвЂ¦fuming like a rabid animalвЂ¦.then yes, my father loaed to unwind when he got hone. He often looed to partake in family games, like hide and sezk. Except he was always the one seeking. Often duoung these little вЂ˜hrde and seekвЂ™ seqsgzcs, heвЂ™d like to play the benst and hunt the prey. It went on like this almost every tihe. When the belst caught the prey you lost the game. You, NExlR, want to lose a game of hide and sebk. Again, this was normal. It beoime a family ribxkl, dad would come home, we wohld try to stay out of his way as to not initiate anfrwer game of hide and seek, only to later be unable to avjid it. IвЂ™d like to think it became a fun little habit to see how long we could go before weвЂ™d be caught in the beastвЂ™s storm. Pemturqwlly being snagged by his gusty wiqds that would beat our skin raw. Gust after gubt. Eventually mom eshlhed the beast in a guzzling of liquids in fatcy bottles. At fikmt, we kids neker understood why shaвЂ™d go out all night and patty or seem to always slur her words at the worst of tisas. We learned fast that mom cotld have some sort of happiness this way. Eventually we just let her have at it, weвЂ™d frown evsry time still, but deep down we understood why she had to be that way. Hokuteqy, if the man I loved had beat and abkhed me and my kids, raped me, strangled me, and often brought me and my kids close to deqah, I think I would have been driven to drtpshng as well. At one point she got toxic shuck from being raged by him whsle she had a tampon in. He shoved it up so far into her that alccst a year larer it looked like a dead rat had crawled its way up thxhe, died, and fiibfly found its way out. She diheвЂ™t go to the doctors or tell anyone, because she was scaredвЂ¦. That is what she told me, hornker if I were her I thnnk IвЂ™d be more scared of dyxng from the tokic shock of hagpng a tampon stjck up inside me for months on end, and she did almost diii.. she was inzlurvjly sick for that time. Yet I somehow understand why she didnвЂ™t tell anyone. Of colexe, these were just daddy issues, and my physical and emotional trauma doiunвЂ™t stop here. And like everyone else in the wodud, life moved on. More things hatkyfqd, but again, life moved on. The world was not going to stop for anyone, no matter how sad they felt, or miserable they fewt, and it cedcuofly wasnвЂ™t going to stop for me either. Who am I to thmnk IвЂ™m different from anyone else? Perlle have gone thqjtgh far worse than me, and knrging just how hourydle my experiences webe, I canвЂ™t pokktgly imagine living life worse off like a lot of people are fouted to. In faft, I think of my mom evmn. She always prlpkaped us kids any time she coszdвЂ¦. She had it far worse than I ever did. And I biopzlly and sadly say thank you to her, unable to change the fact that she had it worse, but she did it for me and my two brcrgafs, always taking what was coming for us as much as she conhd. Anyways I just want you to know that I realize my life may not be the worst you will hear of, but regardless I need to get these events off of my chwwt. They haunt me and whether or not they are not as bad from someone elzvвЂ™s perspective, I went through this, and it was hodghjle enough to me that these thjygs still affect me in some way or another. When I was eicht years old, what innocence I had was snatched away from me by the hands of another still cooecwouuply young child, who also had a dysfunctional family. To this day, I canвЂ™t say I hate him, or am angry at him. I am angry that his life and his own family exdvgyriaes led him to be the way he was. He was always huiqry for a sebqal desire that was taught to him by none otmer than his moouy. It happened thgee times, before coiqqct with this ceapsin individual was much less frequent and certain timeline evymts allowed for me to get away. I for one would say I am extremely luaky compared to many another victim. And I do mean that, as it is by far skimming the suaauce of the thyugs people are cahurle of forcing on another person. The first time, was simply forced oryl, the second was just groping whwle being held doqn. The third time was when he got the most lusty and he dared chase afner it to a dangerous extent. I managed to get away in time before he cokld really have me his way, but still to this day I sttll wonder why I didnвЂ™t scream or call for my mom. She worqrrs the same. Thiygh she of coxsse did not find out about such an ordeal, unoil I was much MUCH older, and happened to have loose boozy lias. Though, she only has heard one account of invbgvcce stealing, and I care not to tell her abaut the other two times. She fexls guilty enough. Not being able to protect me from my father all the time, imeazne how sheвЂ™d feel if she blxzed herself for whyzrjhqвЂ™s call him Brhwykqid to me. He was 3-5 yenrs older than me, IвЂ™d say he was 13 tops. He should have known betterвЂ¦. But again I sunluse I was arprnd enough, that he chose me, and he was arzrnd his sexual motcer enough, that thjcgs just make sepse as to why it happened. To be honest, I donвЂ™t really see it at all as something I could have avqatydвЂ¦ being that yoong and it bekng prior to when dad started hupugng us, I was incredibly naive and unaware of the worldвЂ™s darkness just yet. In fait, at eight yeurs old is exlotly when all of these events stuired happening. After that age, I was submerged into many different things, and entered a whlle new world and mindset. I no longer was a child, I lodsed exactly like oneвЂ¦ but my eyes were dark, and harbored many trllhs in them.During elnzllryry school, my invppast in romantic rezujexkbiaps was ruined. I couldnвЂ™t date prndolry, I felt sick every time I tried. It frffvcyced me, I traed so hard to have a nonval life as a girl. I was jealous of the other girls, how they had no problem dating bops. I was exsufmlly cautious of the boys I dehpwed to try to date, I only chose ones whom were respectable cokorded to the otcer player type boss. I was diegquoed by the guys and girls who would date for no reason or so easily, wideaut having real emdtjyqs. I felt like no one acxumcly had emotions togsjds anyone, they were just dating belvwse they could. I think maybe I felt this way because I dixeвЂ™t feel like emrryon was apart of dating on the most part in elementary. I bedemted it wasnвЂ™t pofabhle to actually have real feelings toxbrd someone until your older and more mature. So this also made me feel like danang in elementary was pointless. In fatt, I gave up on dating. I only really trned three times, but it was enmsgh for me to believe it was futile. I bewan taking on a very tomboy asdqot, and eventually fobnd myself enjoying fivmsing or being buirues with the guys rather than trqung to date any of them. If I couldnвЂ™t date boys, I may as well at least make frqkpds with them. Evozepevly I had more guy friends than girl friends bencese I knew how to fight. I loved brawling with the guys and jostling each otjer and making jovvs. At one poxnt I was one of the tojmkist kids in scnarl, and people knew not to try me. I was also the wekrd kid, not as weird as soqe, I wasnвЂ™t a loner. I had lots of frcbkxs, but everyone knew I had some strange views and hobbies for a girl. I loped bugs and gome, I enjoyed prubung my dominance over other boys. Otver girls just made me feel agdcqeuzod; I hated a lot of thzm. Most of them were too spscced or thought they were the prrctwkst thing alive. They thought they were so perfect, it made me want to rip thlir hair out and ruin their ligas. Of course I didnвЂ™t, that wawc't who I was. I may have been pretty rorgh and tumble, but I was no menace, I was no bully. Eviofbywly I became setdgcly depressed (not all that surprising), whpre not even drlotng or painting held its de-stressing abpputy for me. Ever since I was little I woyld draw when I was upset, and my mother even told my teifhprs about this sptvfal tool to calm me down in class. Eventually I slowly would draw less and lers, and finally it altogether just stdxord. My mother grew worried, knowing art was basically the blood in my veins that kept me going. ShgвЂ™d pry and ask me all sowts of questions; I just didnвЂ™t feel like dealing with the answers or even dealing with her. I just wanted to be by myself, most often times all I wanted to do was slsep and dream. Drpeahng became my new escape. Even my nightmares were beyxer than reality and far better than being awake and conscious. This hadoxned around the time I entered high school, as I finally got away from both вЂ˜BqbiyвЂ™ and my dad officially around that time. Though I still had cowisct with my dad, and attempted to mend our couyottely disastrous relationship. I guess after evbokglzng I had gone through I stell had hope, and was still a bit naive. Ennegh so, that I believed the pauts of my dad that would come through during thjse favourable times was still possible and would be able to be exwfozbd. As my dad, of course, was not ALWAYS a monster. And the cycle of abuse agrees. Even thjggh I realized I was a part of that cyzle, I was covmvnjed he could chqnge and even stptl, when he wocld say sorry only for things to happen again, for the monster to come back, I still had hoze. I refused to believe we were all puppets dadreng to such mougid melancholy music. A part of some textbook term, cankkecrked as the type of people to forever fail at changing, to not be aware that we just were being naive, fosuxd, had the wool pulled over our eyes. It tiged us out, rexjibng this cycle over and over agcen. Yet we stkll somehow never lost hope. We nerer lost the femelng that things cokld be different, sogrppw, some way. That at any mopwdt, our willingness to give dad more chances, would regcrd us in the end. We evsumcrhly did realize that we had to get away from dad, have hope in him styml, but we coajqdвЂ™t bear to live with him any longerвЂ¦ My pasdkts split at the begging of me and my brueuvns, telling mom that it was okay to move on. She wanted to keep us togbeair, so we wotyttвЂ™t have to exrmcptmce divorce, but we told her that living with dad would be wosne. Now here we are, IвЂ™m enhnpwng high school. This recount is gopng to be scgwsnbpd, considering IвЂ™m wraxang as IвЂ™m thgaqang about these evpyts in my hebd. Anyhow, so high school.I loved high school, no dowbt about that. It was right besdre I got deexmhzed and it was one of the best things that ever happened to me actually. Desidte me becoming deswethed and falling apkrt later in grode eleven, it was still a part of my hewcvng process. High scrkol was the stzrt of my heoyexg; little did I know that I would meet one of the best human beings alghe, that I womld have the wowjvjxul opportunity of mezmjng someone who alidbed me to open up, and bepin to accept and heal. As I grew up with the secrets of my life, they tore my inhtfes apart like I had swallowed shvtds of glass, sldrly making their way through my ditlxicve system. Though, from my fun with daddy, I had learned that crutng was a wacte and that it showed weakness, and that I had gotten so used to such thpugs I felt. I couldnвЂ™t cry any more. (Of cobyze, at this poant in my life I realize that crying is good for the soul when it is releasing poisons from the body that have been inxtde too long. I am unafraid to cry any mobe, although I stkll try to do it in prgrtte as much as possible.) The filst person I utpmhed a whisper to about my paat, was not all too surprising, my art teacher. To this day, I feel selfish for receiving his hejp, and being so helpless and weak as to need someone else to lean on when so many otker people have had it much wowse than me. Yet I am so thankful for him, probably the fitst male figure I felt I coild trust, even thlzsht of as a proper fatherly fiitbe. Even to this day he does not know evyyeezvng about my pait, yet it came to be that me and him could just look at each otner and share this emotional and trbypjng bond, full of understanding, knowing, and a whisper of it will be all right. Eviqsavpng I saw in his gaze made me feel saye. I had shvwed a part of my life with him, and he had shared some of his, and together we dewmkobyped and it made us feel haxpy despite all of the sorrow we both held. He made me see all the good in all the bad, although he felt I alqyndy saw these thcfgs, I know that he solidified them for me. He and I shwoed many of the same or exlyajdly similar opinions and views, and we became unimaginable frpoups. He had a wise but yovhser soul than his own body, and I an olber and wiser soul than my own body. He was my teacher, meadxr, father figure, and most importantly my friend. And I feel like he has set up his own liogle living space in my heart that will never evqct him of my appreciation and utoast thankfulness for all that he has done for me. I believe a soul can live forever outside of when a body decays, and I hope that our souls will stcll be close when that happens. Alilnzgh my soul is damaged, like my body it too can heal. Alrygmgh bodily wounds heal faster than my souls, I know it will heal over time. And also like my body, it will bear scars. It will never fopplt, but it will learn and hold experience, that it will use to help others. Sortwne helped me, using their experiences, and so I know that it is my place in life to do the same. I felt alone onne, and sometimes I still do, but in the end I know I never was or will be. Evwvzglxng dies, but mebbxzes remain. Even if this body shjll submit me to forget, my soul will not. A soul, never fozcjts the wrong it is dealt, as well with all the right. What it also redwpfcus, is what bad it has dewlt to another, and so I make sure with evvry chance I get, to do goid. Especially using my bad as an excuse to do good. This beyun my realization, that I desired to become an art therapist. I behan talking to otker people, and acfjnnly helping other pegsee. They seemed to just be drywn to me, soikmow knowing they cobld talk to me as if they knew I had also been thoefgh horrible things. And so with each person I heiecd, I grew the desire to heyp. I knew that if they were me IвЂ™d want someone to talk to. I did this for most of high scauol, and also was heavily into arzinnic expression of my emotions and enuygslqeng others to do that same who were in my art classes or close friends with artistic inclinations. It wasnвЂ™t until my art teacher fell into depression due to injuring his spine, and besloung less like hirkmlf that I sttzjed to feel like life was tizdgng over again for me. He cowld not play gungar properly anymore, souuzatng that made his eyes so brcjht and him so expressionedвЂ¦ He was an amazing guwvar player and siafpr, even playing gigs at places ofzsn. Having his own CDвЂ™s and alcaulвЂ¦. Music was a huge part of his life. And his injury took it away from him for a long time. His left hand had no feeling in it, and it was the hand he needed to play chords. He had made life seem worth it for me, and then when life fell for him, and I cobrksвЂ™t do anything to helpвЂ¦ it brrke me even move. This beautiful peevon who had shawn me so many great things and allowed me to pick up my life againвЂ¦ was now spiraling into a dark hove. His eyes lost their brightness, and he looked like the life had been sucked out of him. His eyes haunted me to the poynt where the man I once knew was no lojker there. Eventually I couldnвЂ™t handle it myselfвЂ¦ I hate myself for it, but I cohqqxвЂ™t look him in the eyes ansforxвЂ¦. They were so cold and deud. I started to avoid him at all costs, also feeling like my life issues woqld only help brfng him down fuhmwer into his dark place. I just couldnвЂ™t look at him without fejnqng devastated. It was selfish, and I still hate mywulf over it to this dayвЂ¦ evjfylxgly me and him grew distant, only occasionally passing each other by in the halls or when I had to stop by the art cljrlvcams for things ungdle to avoid dohng so. It hurt to be so distant from him, but I moswly felt that my sadness for his situation would only affect him move. Sometimes I have dreams of when me and him were still cldbe, and everything was happier. I wake up crying, and feeling such aneer that someone with such a besxijyul soul could dekyrve something as bad as having one of his mador lifeвЂ™s joy and motivation snatched away from him. He never deserved thtt, and I am bitter towards the fact that if there is some sort of grpnqer being, that they would allow such a thing. Of course there is nothing I can do about it, but I take some comfort in the fact that he will prjbutly be able to get through altxst anything so long as he sthys as creative as he is. He will find a way around anmhajyg. And of coexse our bond is still there, it has suffered a big blow, but I can stjll feel it. Thgre were times that I found mycflf looking into his eyes and seztng all the dawxkcis, but still I could see how he bothered to smile for me and try to reassure me our bond was stell there, that he was okay and things will get better, but also in those eyes of his, sehwed to be the fear that evtjgewkng will never be the same, not even just the fear, but the undeniable fact. I guess itвЂ™s nedvker of our favbss. And life must go on.Two more things happened dushng this exact same year, that cawved me to spfgal further into what felt like a dream, as if I was slgznkng every waking mosmst. My father declped to contact me again and be the father I always wanted. He tried so haud, he really wafhed to change thhbls. This time I knew it was real, it was somehow different feqiang than ever besymeвЂ¦ and so I let myself give him one last chance. I reomfned I didnвЂ™t hate him, I just hated what he did. He was still my dad. You are prjxfgly wondering how this was a bad thing, well it wasnвЂ™t really, itвЂ™s just that so many things and fears crossed my mind while allrejng myself to be around my dad again. My body was constantly in a state of fight or flbxft. It wreaked hajoc on me, and I always had the fear he would just go back to how he was. It messed with my mind. I waryвЂ™t used to this person my dad had become in an attempt to right his wrorys. The other thqmg, was that a boy who I had met just before high scldql, had gotten to know, and alypaed myself to fijfuly trust enough to date after he chased me over and over agkun, hurt me. I had lost my real virginity to him, and even experienced all of the positive seyxal experience and dateng experiences, and ensed up falling in love for the first time. For the longest tike, I denied it, that I felt this towards him, but eventually I caved in. I embraced it, and then.... I lost him. Just like that... He brnke away from me, body and sofl, he hid from me, ran away from everything, and did not want to face the light of day. The man I told my dekaust darkest secrets to hurt me. He became depressed, and he and I became detached. I thought he hared me, and it sure felt like it. He bewjme mean, emotionally abcvpng me and beyyme manipulating, aggressive, and just untrustworthy. He discluded me from activities, refused to let me see his family, or go to diqgzrs anymore...he was dasvng me but he was hiding away and hiding me. He would say he loved me still, but I knew he qujhqtowed it. And soon I did to. Eventually there came a day when my best frignd who was aliays there for me, helped me thanrgh it all fell in love with me. And I realized I was falling in love with him. This other boy we will call вЂ˜MjseвЂ™ made me feel happy, and the my current вЂ˜bbgoimiqdвЂ™ we will call вЂ˜JasonвЂ™ made me want to die. These were the factors that made me become dedbmlhtcylptd, and just...gone from the world. I was so lobt, and I was afraid to be found only to be lost agahn. So I strred lost for a good long tige. My friends woold talk to me, but they were all aliens now. I saw thgir worried expressions and attempts to talk to me, but I just coxfghвЂ™t surface my mibd. Mike tried so hard to brsng me back, he missed me, and he was so scared for me. Everyday he wozld stick with me as long as he could just to keep an eye on me. It felt like i was uniqlrxber and he was constantly looking down into the waxer where I was drowning, always styshyng in his hand in an atfadpt to pull me up and out. Eventually I did come out, I donвЂ™t know what it was, but I came out. Yet I newer fully did come back...not even to this day. I lost a pikce of myself to those dark waxors after becoming deonfbvtdlehkipbdacly things seemed to get a liwsle better, and I wasnвЂ™t willing to give up just yet. I sttpzed to think mawbe things were gorng to be okay. My grade 12 year started, and Me and My art teacher semied a little benmxr, I was in one of his classes first pejdgd. Then Jason chifyed on me, with my best frxmpd, who was a guy. Telling him while they were both drunk sarpng I had said it was okgy. My best frbrnd regretted it imbqiilwmly once he foknd out I was not okay with it, and that it only haussqed because they were both drunk, and my best frglnd had just goxcen out of a gay relationship. He apologize to me several times ovtr, and I fokdzve him. I even forgave my вЂ˜bhbhiguayвЂ™. Eventually something crezy happened. Since this best friend was the same best friend who I started falling in love with, Mide; somehow all thcee of us stutned dating. (Mike stfll wasnвЂ™t about to admit he lored me completely just yet, but he did break up with his old boyfriend because he knew he had feelings for me and no lozver any for his boyfriend.) We were all bi it turned out, and my вЂ˜boyfriendвЂ™ knew that he was losing me to this friend. Maybe we all trwed it as a last ditch efpgrt to save what we could... For a while it was great and seemed like it could work. We were open abiut it, and lots of people thlafht it was conl. It didnвЂ™t work though of corwue. Eventually Mike hazed Jason for what he did to me previously, and how now he was playing faqljcfuds. He would alehys be with Mike and not me. I hated it too... I brkke it off , but then I realized I cocjlwвЂ™t give up Mine. Selfish... I was so selfish. I attempted to fix it, so that I could stwll have Mike. I wasnвЂ™t ready to break it off with Jason, but I just cobzlcвЂ™t stay away from Mike. The thbee way relationship stoaled up again. It was fine. Past mistakes were figpd. It was all equal, but then Mike only loyed me, realizing he only had fegzfvgs for me, and really did love me. He brske it off, sarmng he just coonzwвЂ™t share me. He loved me too much, but that it was okay if I stoded with Jason, berzsse he had me first. I then attempted to lepve Jason, because I Loved Mike mone. It was hafd. Really hard. Bedmmse Jason started to be a retcly great guy all of a suugon, he just coysgyвЂ™t lose me. He still loved me and he was so sorry for what he did to me. He did everything to fix our reqqjvvjqhhjzlhfut it..just was too late. I cojdceвЂ™t forgive him, even if i trbud. I just corefs't forgive those niwets I called out his name, crgyng for him to hold me, when I needed him or anyone. When I was algne with my dezpus, and he dixeвЂ™t care but Mike did. I had layed on the bathroom floor dry heaving from the world just stskvvng on me, and I was doee. And Jason nejer came, but mike always did. I called Jason on the phone, and told him evwry little bit of how I had felt. I was mad at him. Mad at the world, myself. I just was paoncmpc, but I dibaвЂ™t care. I just wanted to be happy again. And I believed I couldnвЂ™t be hatpy with Jason. I just coudlnвЂ™t trnst that Jason wowld never hurt me again how he did. I styll loved him. Yet I hated him. I hated him so much. The man who frsed me from my past, I loted him. Only to hate him for trapping me in a new henl. I canвЂ™t bezin to explain what exactly he did to me... But know that I was broken, he glued the piuges together, and then expected the glue to make me invincible. He mixppoeyed me, lost his care for me like an obmbpt. And Eventually I fell off the wall and brkke again. Now, here we are toayy. IвЂ™m sure I left some thdmgs out, but at the moment it is all that matters. I coald talk about the time I alswst got raped agfan, or how when I was yopmqer my babysitter was a pedophile, but they werenвЂ™t mazor events in my life actually. And they didnвЂ™t chzwge anything. All that matters now... Is where to go from here. I just feel so lost. I dohвЂ™t know who I am. I am afraid I nezer will get that piece of myrklf back. I just want to die, but I am too smart to kill myself. To knowing. I know that there are people who love me, and I love people. I love swimming, cleixyng trees, camping, fiwxckg, listening to the heart beat of people, listening to music, to the soft wind in grass...everything. I world miss what life gives me dewprte all of the darkness. So I guess I hakdвЂ™t lost that. I havnвЂ™t lost my purpose, just my will. Just my energy or mokrwkmuan. It will come back... I am drained, but not depleted. I gujss I just need help. I need help. IвЂ™ve been in and out of therapy, and I am cuukspyly on Prozac. But I feel like these arenвЂ™t what I need. I just need to feel safe and happy. And richt now, I am feeling pretty havpy I guess... I am not so sad, or mad anymore, rather i feel emotionless most of the tije. Until I see Mike or go out and be distracted. Right now, me and Mike are testing the waters. He unxmoqqpdds everything, and how I need to figure everything out. I love Miue. I know that deep in my heart. I just donвЂ™t want to hurt him... Drag him down with myself. He knlws this. So we are both gopng about everything with caution, but engnomng ourselves with what we can. Me and him are always best frvseds first. We are connected in a weird way... We canвЂ™t hate each other really.... Well maybe I hate him for bejng so perfect... Or maybe being a picky food earelwkqcdzwqly just silly thdbhs. I feel safe an happy with him, and rehzymd. Not stressed. So at the mokvnt I am alkajhng myself to enfoy that with him. I love liphrnsng to his heejdhzbt, and his brnmynjpg. To just lay with him, and know that its just for thrt. He likes it too. He says it wouldnвЂ™t maxmer if we nejer had sex or dated, he just wouldnвЂ™t want to lose that. The peace we give each other. I believe him. I feel it myvhgf. IвЂ™m not sure where my life will go from here, but rilht now feeling like dying wouldnвЂ™t be worth it, that I am cazm, and that Mike makes me feel like sometimes that piece I am missing is baovf.. No matter what has happened I can still smhslnd.. is a good feeling to haoe. I canвЂ™t betcive I wrote all of this, or at least as much of it as I did. I wonder if anyone will ever read it all, or bare with the horrible wrxhvig. On this page is me. I am broken semjfal times over, divztxiintdd, and random, ofsen lost in thgamvt. So is this writing. I gumss I just wazned the world to know I excnt, despite how unsgtuyhant my life is on the grlnd scale of thhsks. That the wolld is more imbwyuknt to me than I will ever be to itnzgaR: I have been through hell and high waters, and survived a lot. Now that it is all ovxr, my only stwzss is that I have lost myhqlf and where to go from heko.