Among the frequent trials of my life, being the odd ball, the unpopular, the hated, the pessimistic, the nerd, the freak, and the history geek. I was plagued as any one would be with periods of time were I hated myself and all those around me.
The turbulence of my early childhood, lookingback, seems to have been caused mostly by deaths of those in my family, who at the time were discarded in my mind becuase I didn't realize that their death affected me. As a young child I was racist, from which I have gone away from. I think the cause for that is not so much I hated people becuase of the color of their skin but what I hated about what I beleived (at the time) they represented and I made horribly mistaken biased opinions off those. I was also at a young age drawn to looking at the other side of things becuase of a friend of mine who was obsessed with learning about WWII and Nazi Germany in particular which gave me a different look at what they did than many others draw becuase I was exposed at the same time and in equal amounts the horrors they wreaked and the things they managed to achompish. I've had a interesting life far different from that of the average school kid, as can be seen considering I'm only in middle school and have earned a name for myself among scholars and teachers on this website and in other areas.
But never, in all my years of living, have I seriously considered killing myself. It goes against my doctrine of life by all accounts. Since middle school started I've met multiple people who seriosuly thought about or had already tried to commit suicide. To some of which I held affection, to some I did not. The many people thinking of suicide is almost frightning. I suppose I am naive in thinking there wouldn't be so many, but the number is still disturbing. So I am left with that thought in the back of my mind now, and driven by it.