I'm Nick, I've had suicidal thoughts since I was younger than eight, I think I wrote my first suicide plan when I was around twelve, I've had a deathwish since I was 15, now I'm even older and I actually long for death, I can't see myself as anything but a worthless, undeveloped liar that can't do what he's supposed to do and I want to stop living. I know that it's pain that I can't take, but I think it's the optimal choice - so I seek a quick and painless death. I've tried to keep going thanks to a certain girl who's supported me much, whom I love with everything I've got and I trust my life to her. I'll write down my life so far. When I was really young, I used to get hurt and bleed. A lot. If there was a single stick on our entire lawn, I'd trip over it and bust my lip. I used to fall asleep to get away from the pain, something I can't do anymore. As tripping usually leads to, the injures got worse, I busted up my entire left cheek and I still have a scar for it. Moving on... This is where it starts... At the age of eight, I did something, I can't remember what but it was probably something to do with school or something. I was a rebel when I was in Church's Kid's hour (It's like a day nursery), used to move stuff and throw food and things like that, but then it got back to me. My mother said "You're a disappointment. I don't want to see you ever again." - now I was thinking, "Have I failed at life?", my mother has that kind of voice that sticks with you forever, it hurt damn hard. Needless to say, I gave up on being a rebel, but I also stopped making friends. I couldn't snap out of it, it's like someone's just proven to you that your entire existance was just a pain in the ass to everyone else. It got me thinking. A lot. Then I started elementary, the very first day, I got bullied by four to five other pupils that made fun of the way I sat. How I sat was apparantly "Girlie", since I had one leg over the other so it's entirely horizontal while the other has the foot on the ground. The "Guy way" was to have one leg folded under you so you're sitting on your own leg. Somehow, I didn't like that. I got bullied for just that the first days. This was followed by me getting beaten down by the same bunch every few days a week. Okay, so what? Everyone's gotten bullied a bit, but having my face shoved down a whole and kicks and such. I was also a crybaby during this time. I cried when my parents yelled at me, I cried when I felt a bit of pain. What should a crybaby do when he's outnumbered and pretty much outgunned? Tell the teacher, of course, and so I did. Unfortunently, the teacher didn't think it was anything real. I don't know why, but seeing a child when bruises and dirt stains all over his face just doesn't prove enough. So what else can I do? Well, I could punch back. I did, boy did I punch back. Not enough to cause blood, but I could pretty much take down any of them one on one. Not bad for a crybaby, yeah? You should also know, I played A LOT of video games when I was young, when other kids played with lego, I played with computers, something that caused me to screw up my body's motor skills. I know I shouldn't blame anyone, but when I did play wih lego, I'd build something only to see it torn apart by my brother who tried to build the same thing, only to fail and build it into something else. I was a nerd crybaby, basically. I'll get to my brother in a minute. Anyway, so I started fighting back, not any more rought than they did, I never got them to bleed. But then they went to the teacher, I thought "Meh, she didn't care about me getting hit, she won't help them either." but I was wrong. She called my parents saying I was a brawler that can't stop hitting other kids - hell, she even said she'd call the police on me 'cause I was that violent. My mother said she knew these things weren't true, but my teacher swallowed the bullies' lies like nothing else. I got no support from any teacher and I had no real friends at this point, but I was belligerent as hell. I would beat them, as I had no other choice. I started out doing Jiujitsu, in that class was a girl who was in my class at school, she eventually became my girlfriend (At that age, a relationship is just "Hi, wanna get together? Okay, I'll break up with you in two days then I'll ask you out again, okay?", no feelings whatsoever.) I got hard, and so I started getting friends. I was also clumsy in woodworks, I'd accidentally smack stuff so they'd fall over and I'd get really stared at, which I truly hated. Especially from a specific teacher with the same name as me, he'd basically do a O_O like he was thinking "How the f*** did that little s*** manage to do that?!" I wasn't good at math either, I've never been good at math, but I wasn't awful. Of course the bullies were ahead of me and decided to remind every freakin' minute. I was good at english and computer typing, though the latter didn't really help me out in general. Now, did I recieve much help from home? I sure didn't, my brother hated my guts, he seemed to like the bullies more than he liked me. My mother, though at first on my side against the bullies, she started turning against me too. She actually believed that I was taking on four to five pupils by myself and just ripping them all apart. She also thought I had strangled a guy when I even had been with a friend all that recess. She was against me, my brother was against me, my entire school was against me, I was basically Public Enemy number one. I actually enjoyed being feared a bit, except then I discovered I wasn't feared, I was just plain hated by people more powerful than me, for doing what? Well, sitting in a "unguyful" way, I suppose. Something that actually made my mother mad was me coming home from school, crying, on my birthday. It sounds made up, but that's what happened. I was beaten down in the boys' locker room, of course, when the bully heard it was my birthday, he tried to force a forgiving word out of me but keeping me at the school and asking me over and over to accept his apology, since if he got one he wouldn't get any punishment whatsoever. I wish I could go back there as I am right now and hit his head with a shovel. I still wonder what made him do this to me. In a way, I suppose I was born a retard or something, well, there must be SOMETHING, I mean, can this happen to someone randomly? I digress. When someone needed someone to blame, it was usually me they blamed. Some of the pupils even made stuff up, like the guy I had supposedly strangled. Then there's another guy, a "family friend", so to speak. He was a few years older, four or five or so. He wasn't my friend, he used to beat me up a lot even though he was anorexic and had the same height, but he was much stronger and just had plain better influence on my mother than I did. Yet, that wasn't even close to what he did later on. Wanna know what he did? He raped me, that obnoxious piece of s***. His name was Christof, a semi-french s***head. Later on, he got lung cancer, but the lucky f*** got his lungs transplanted and he survived for a few more years, but his body resented them and he died. As I was a faithful christian back then, though not very educated on what god represented, I called it an act of god. An act of retribution, the purging of the sinned. Call me insane, I know I am worthless anyway. I was about ten when this happened. On another front, my brother was acting. He locked me out of the housewhen I tried to get him to play with me (Which he did when he was younger) on several occasions. My mother was furious over this, but that gave him an idea. He'd place himself outside then say that I locked him outside. Of course this made my mother target me instead of him. Sometimes I could pay him to stop it, usually by money or candy. I'll tell you about me dad for a bit. He usually didn't do much at all, he chose to say things to slip through easily, like "Meh, he likes you more" when asked why he didn't do anything to my school situation. I learned from him, I wasn't entirely motivated at doing school work so I started to lie my ass off, I started to cheat and slip past and such. I almost never did any homework, I usually just skimmed through the reading things and learned most when I was in classroom, I hated doing work at home, still do, it's like imprinted within my instincts. I am a deceitful, spiteful, uneducated person right now, only moreso proves how worthless I am. I'll write more after the weekend, I have to do some homework. I've got a ton to get off my chest, I'm not even at the teens.