I never reported what happened to me. I kept it from my mother, my father, my siblings, my friends, and everyone else I knew for many.. many years. It was only earlier this year that I first confided in someone about what had happened to me, someone who I trusted deeply..
Aside from this my mother is a very, very cold person. She shows little emotion herself aside from frustration and did not provide the necessary touch bond a child needs growing up. Humans are supposed to be cuddle-bugs by nature, but I had very little touch as a child.

I know the realm of possibility is open. I know there is the opportunity for me to do something great or worthwhile. I am very much demotivated, however. I have been searching for an idea to drive me forward- something that captures my attention so, that I feel compelled and driven forward.

There are human being who are not entirely or even mainly selfish or consciously destructive, or outright mean, but everyone is selfish at some point, with or without realizing it, and everyone contributes to destruction. I won't make the generalization that everyone is "outright mean" but everyone has the capacity to be such, some are just more inhibited, or moral than others.

Suffering from depression and remembrances of thing I wish had never occurred don't mean that I am blinded. There is good in this world. I am aware that people can be kind and can be warm and loving and can choose not to do horrible things at times. If anything, this depression and this solitude have driven me to open my eyes further. To take things in at a wider scope, and to learn all that I can about humanity, no matter how it may pain me. Suffering from any one thing without sympathy and without relief can be a personal hell no one else can understand. A friend of mine suffers with his gender. He is Extremely intelligent, and thoroughly logical. He has compulsively looked up, and knows more fault in genetics of males, and sees more discrimination and expectations thrust upon males, than almost any girl will ever have to deal with. He will never be able to experience the bond of a mother and child. He is very, very much jealous of all females and wishes with every fiber of his being that he had been born that way. Had he been, he like many other male children in the US would not have been mutilated in ways most foul directly after birth- A procedure that is banned for females and is common practice for males. He detests the unnatural, so taking surgical measures are out of the question, but he is so torn by grief, that most days lately, he is so depressed he won't look at or say a word to anyone. What's worse is only myself and one other friend of his seem to comprehend why such things would trouble him so greatly and why they would pain him without telling him something as sexist and cold as "Man up." She and I are the only two close friends he has, and she recently entered basic training, leaving him further alone. His entire life- stuck in a body he detests, has become for him, a living hell the likes of which I cannot even begin to comprehend.

That is an interesting suggestion, and not something I had ever considered.
I may miss some things, but I am very, Very observant. I have a memory abnormally vibrant (not always advantageous). I can recall moments in time from before I had reached 2 years of age. Since middle school I have been very very quiet in public. I sit back and watch, and more importantly, I listen. I hear things. I learn things, I can pick apart multiple conversations going on around me at once and remember everything I hear. I know a great deal about the people who only share classes with me, people I have never spoken a word to. I know their personalities, their friends, some of their family life, which teachers they despise, what classes they find difficult, etc. Nothing I will ever need to know, and things I cannot forget none the less. Perhaps I have missed things, but they were things beyond my realm of perception., beyond what I have been exposed to, rather.

Most people I know are pessimistic or realists, but We (humans that is) are interminably saturated with this illogical device known as "hope". Something that strives to keep us moving forward even when the world seems to be crashing around us. Motivation and Hope drive a person to create something otherwise perceived as impossible, so hope is not without it's benefits, but it can appear in times, completely unnecessarily, and even harmfully. I am an atheist. I won't chalk up whatever goes on inside of me as having been derived from another beings omniscient, omnipotent will. I make my own decisions, my mind formulates it's own ideas. I cannot say with absolute certainty that there are no gods (only that there is no physical evidence of them), and I do not deny the possibility of there being a god, but given what I know and have learned, there are none that I know of, under which I shall blindly follow.

I am an artist, not a scientist, not a mathematician.. no doctor. In terms of actually contributing things of value to this world, my chances are slim to none. In general, my intelligence is precisely how I pull myself from the depths of my despairs- by identifying the cause and eliminating it or counter-acting it. There are positives in this world, but there is a reason they are harder to find- negativity resonates within us more deeply.