I was born July 21, 1993 in a town about 45 minutes away from NYC. Childhood is supposed to be a time of laughter and joy and memory. I have no pleasant memory. Only the bad. My abusive father who had always cared more for my older brother and sister. Food was my answer. I ate and ate. I ate my feelings away. Now, a 15 year old young adult, weighing well over 300lbs, is ruined. My life is ruined. I'm a border-line diabetic, a "mommas boy", and a disgusting human. I am polite. Quiet, but always on my best behavior. These rules I learned the hard way with smacks and the infamous belt. I've always been a good student and a hard worker. I hate when people are upset with me. I tried to cut my wrists. I chickened out. All I got was a little cut- just past the skin. I don't know what else to say. I don't want to be alive anymore. Life is moving too fast and I am falling behind. My name is Mike, btw.