I started writing when I was 11. It was the only way that I could deal with my feelings. I always felt like I never belonged anywhere. I often wondered if I was born the wrong sex, the wrong race, at the wrong time, in the wrong place. Just something wasn't right. My teenage years were full of funerals, depression, and self-medicating. By the time I turned 16 all my grandparents had passed away. My junior year in high school I lost two of my best friends, one to a car accident, the other to suicide. But I kept writing. During my senior year my cousin died of heart failure after lying in a ...
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