I'm getting pretty convinced that some people just aren't supposed to exist. By some people, I really just mean me. My childhood proves it...sometimes I think about what I know about the first few years of my life and just wonder how the hell I'm still alive.

Most people don't survive being thrown and landing on their heads at 3 months old. You would think that would make me feel lucky to be alive. It doesn't. I honestly wish I didn't survive. It just makes me feel totally alone. No one could possibly understand. Ever. I don't even know why I'm posting this, there's not even a point in whining about it.