My teachers always encouraged me to pursue creative writing because I spoke from a place of raw passion that just immersed and engaged them; but I was always plagued by self-doubt and deprecation. I had trouble with following through because of the sheer amount of pain I dealt with every day. I spent all of my time running away and more or less most of my life running away.

I decided not to go to Texas A&M because I wanted to stay behind and be there for my siblings to protect them from my mom. However, this just drove me insane and my suicidal thoughts increased. My dad had been cheating on her which is one of the reasons her frantic nature increased.

I don't condone it, but I can understand since he had no physical or emotional connection with her (that and she was crazy). Sometimes I feel the only peace she'll ever find is in death.

I was gaming more than ever before going to community college trying to zone out the hell that my mom encircled around me. She started to drag me to doctors again and I broke down. I had hated my dad and had hardly talked to him in 2 years. I mean on senior night at our soccer game I cried on the field because my dad didn't take the field and it was the most embarassing moment of my life almost. He didn't know of course because my mom hadn't told him and he was in his truck behind the bleachers watching.

Anyways, I'd never really been close to my dad and I kind've hated him because of misinformation from my mom who frequently lied to us. Because of her dragging me to doctors again I moved in with my dad and his girlfriend and my siblings followed shortly after.

My mom did some spirals and ended up moving to Washington to be near her brother who was in Alaska saying none of us wanted her anymore; but in all honesty it was just we couldn't stand her and the mind games she played with us. I was still gaming 12 or so hours a day and had no real direction. (continuing next comment)