Growing up, I never had the perfect childhood. In fact, it was pretty rough through and through. I ended up living in a trailor park for four years after my family lost the house, and I was bullied until middle school. If that doesn't make you say, "That's pretty messed up," then I don't know what will. Once I got to high school, I noticed that I wasn't too happy with the things I used to be excited to do. I stopped drawing, and watching anime altogether. Nobody really noticed that I was going through anything at that time, but I knew something was up. As much as I didn't want to, I had to tell my mom about it, which wasn't pretty in the slightest. She began to look at me differenlty and her eyes were always filled with a sort of sadness. It made it hard for me to want to look at her from then on. Soon after, my whole family knew about it, and I started to feel like a circus animal. My own dad said that what I was feeling wsa just a phase, and that it would pass soon after. Which, to be honest, wasn't something I really wanted to hear, but I knew that he had good intentions. I started to feel like nobody understood me, and that what I was feeling was beginning to get worse after that whole fiasco happened.