Who I am, I do not know. I have been so many things throughout my life: A son to a father who made me feel like I would amount to nothing; a brother to somebody whom doesn’t even consider me family and did nothing but abuse me. I was the happy-go-lucky kid in elementary school, oh how those days were full of ignorant bliss. Middle school? I was the rebellious preteen who liked to flaunt his few talents. Still ignorant of the hellish world around me. That all changed upon entering High School. Freshman year, I changed completely into a quite, misunderstood outcast. I become alert to the hell around me, and I began dealing with my depression. My method to dealing with it? Keeping it oblivious to those around me and getting my mind off of it. Freshman year I focused solely on school to try to keep my mind off my depression. It worked most the year, up until the spring. Spring fever, don’t want to do any school work. I began using my second method of dealing with my depression, self mutilation. Where did I cut? Well, that was for me to know and never tell anybody or let them find out. The only ones who knew were others who cut. Most people expect cuts to be on the wrist, well not me, or other people I knew. Sophomore and Junior year were the same, dealing with depression by cutting, not paying attention in school, losing friends, multiple suicide attempts; you name it, I tried it. Senior changed a lot. I became the alcoholic cold bastard everybody knew me as. There was not a day that went by when I had alcohol on me and in my blood. I would finish two bottles of vodka/rum a week; occasionally I would finish a bottle of Everclear a week instead. Honestly, it’s amazing that I passed or had any friends that year. I was literally a walking soulless drunkard. If you asked me then what emotions where, I would have honestly answered I don’t know. I felt no pain, no happiness, no sadness, nothing. I was numb, I was in bliss. The summer after my Senior year everything changed. I became more alert to emotions, I put down the bottle, threw out my razors. I hung out with more people than I had ever before. What happened? I went from an alcoholic cold hearted bastard to one of the nicest people in the world (still felt no pain though). Maybe it was in light of the fact that in a couple months I was getting out of this hell I called home, I was going away and I knew that my life would get better. When I arrived at college though, I began to revert back to my High School self. That was until I met some of the greatest people I ever had the pleasure of meeting and I am thankful for the opportunity that gave me this chance. However, in that process I lost who I was, and have yet to find it. I know not who I am or who I am supposed to be. I have so many faces that I don’t know which my natural one is. Even now, I have multiple faces. I am different to every person I meet. Is this the way I should live? I do not know…
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