WARNING: This entry recalls true events that had happened in the creator's life. As this entry contains some potentially harmful, disturbing content please read at your own risk. If you cannot take such material, don't read this then. I don't see a reason why I gotta be with friends that tend to socialize with vulgarity. I'd rather hurt myself than watch the world hurt. Sometimes, it's nice to just sit and stare at your tears than just cry and cry. Though I may sound as if I'm promoting something wrong and hard to chew, think about the bad in your life. I've been holding lots of this for a while, but would you feel the pressure in your heart, too? I am aware that you all have something to do, but I feel as if I don't belong with the mature and steady. I feel as if I was made to die, and if I felt better... why not just die and be the end of it? Though I feel like I'm mature to handle everything, I know that I have plenty of weak spots. I don't care if I was ignored. I don't care if I was left out in the dark. I'll be forever alone, and I don't need support from anyone. I guess I can just hide out and be living in the dumpster Like I should have been. I've been tossed like a rag doll, and I have been called VARIOUS names... why the HELL do you treat me like this? I don't deserve what you all do. Call me a pathetic bitch and call me stupid. I feel like I've been too idiotic to even run a damn site. I even got permanent scars all over my body that I pick. The scabs won't go away, and I'm forever disfigured. Why do I even have to explain when I'm waiting for my life to be taken? I have lots of problems, and I even talk to myself. Hell, I even have three Shinigami only I can see with me now. "Don't beat yourself up, Terilyn," they say. "You've deteriorated quite a bit," they taunt at me. WHY do I even have to live like this? I had no friends, and I feel that nobody but my Shinigami are by my side. Pretty much since my grandfather (Leo Chears) passed on, I've been feeling rather empty. I cried hysterically at the news in the second grade. I don't understand myself sometimes due to my screaming in my head telling me "KILL YOURSELF! GO DIE ALREADY!" I feel that there's very little hope to understand. I am aware that the previous was just a placeholder. In fact, my mind is actually making me type all this shit down. I don't like to talk negative about myself, but you all said you wanted to know me, right? On an unrelated note, I have Aspergers, which is a psychological disorder in where you cannot socialize properly. On the Internet, I feel much better due to the fact that I can socialize freely without anyone worrying of my stuttering. I feel that my brain goes too slow or too fast all the time. It frustrates me that I cannot get what I want to say clearly and fluidly like everyone else. Additionally, my brain can function differently, and I might have a little Dissociative Identity Disorder. The ONLY thing that I talk about would be narrowed down to my favorite things. I've met people like this, too... and I consider myself more mundane than those who can't control it. Sometimes, my brain can fight with me and can beat me up for doing something wrong--or right. Where I came from, what I liked wasn't well-received or ignored by mass media production. Back in elementary school, my doctors diagnosed me with ADHD/ADD (otherwise not stated) because they all felt that I required a label for the perplexing symptoms that I inherited. I was even given some Concerta to control the symptoms of ADHD/ADD. Ever since, I became more studious and more into books. Thanks to my mother's inheritance, I prematurely started on my period at eight. I didn't know what to do, and I remember that my principal had to watch me use the bathroom. Embarrassing enough, I had to be driven back home to get this checked. From the next two weeks, my second-grade teacher taught me how to use the bathroom with pads. When I was administered napkins, it hurt to look at her face. By the time I was ten, I was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome by one of my trusted nurses. What she told me fit EXACTLY what I was doing. By the time I was 13, I used this disorder as an excuse to do things. Sometimes, I blame my brain, and some times my self. I know it sounds baffling, but for those who possess such peculiar traits like me... you'll get the idea. I used to cause fights to those who didn't like what I liked. I even began saying the same things more than I should. I hated it when I stuttered; it felt like an invisible barrier that blocked my thoughts from coming into my mouth properly. My voice sounds like that of a grown 30-year-old indulging in happiness pills--and I'm not afraid to degrade myself. I've been downgraded, bullied, trolled, attacked, and given the cold shoulder. I'm pretty sure ALL of you have been in the same position I've been. I've attempted suicide about six times in my life. The first suicide attempt was when I was 12. Middle school life was, by far, the worst I've ever experienced. They had you sit in designated classrooms and I disliked talking to anyone. Once in a blue moon, I would find myself crying for no reason. I felt like a mentally demented stranger in the outside world. When I moved to eighth grade, I had more suicidal meltdowns in class. I still feel thankful about having the outbursts as they uncapped the inner anger that I had. Now, I'm a happy, caring individual with a current 3.7 GPA in high school. I am also intelligent and I take extreme pride in what I do.