The day I was born, my father took me for a walk in the park with my siblings.

I remember it being so peaceful, like the park was full of life.

But then my mother said, “My child, we must go for a run.”

I remember the look on her face, and I knew she was upset.

I told her I had to go.

I was a very stubborn child.

I loved running and jumping, so I told my mother to go with me.

I never saw my father again after that.

I had a very difficult time at school, because my mother didn’t like me, and the other kids hated me.

We would sit in our room for hours just talking.

It was hard to talk to my friends, who hated me because I was different.

I hated them for hating me.

One day, I just started crying.

I don’t know why.

I felt so trapped.

When I turned 18, I went to college for music, and it was a really good time, but I was really depressed.

I cried for weeks at a time, and sometimes even months.

I started to feel like a total mess, and then I started taking medication for anxiety.

I finally left my mother’s house, but she would be mad at me for leaving, because I wasn’t going to stop talking about her.

My mother still had a job, so she would let me stay with her for three months.

She made me take a medication that gave me the ability to talk and write again.

But I was not able to do that, because she would say I had “a lot of problems.”

I was just trying to live my life, and that is what I ended up doing.

Now I am in a stable relationship, and my therapist is so supportive.

I feel like I am doing well, and even though I can’t do everything she wants me to do, she does so much more than I ever could.

It is hard to tell people what you feel about yourself.

But if you can share what you are feeling with people who love you, it will make a difference.

If you can talk to people about what you have been through, it can help to get you through it, too.

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