My dad acted like a total jerk towards me. "What have you got to be depressed about? You have everything. There are people a lot worse off than you!" Those words came from the mouth of a man who forced me out of the only home I ever knew because he sold it to move in with my soon to be step mother. I'm not religious, but I'm pretty sure she's the devil. My friends all acted really supportive. My brother is amazing. He does so much for me. He's supportive, never gets mad at me when he catches me reaching for the first aid kit. Has to put up with my nonsense (I've got into arguments with him over a cat he can't see but I can, when its okay to throw clocks etc), he even does all of the housework because I'm in an eternal state of not having the energy to live. Anyway now it's gotten to the stage where my dad is blaming my brother for me being the way I am. I've never been normal. Up until I turned eleven I believed I was dead. I believed I was just a ghost. I could have been hit by a car with the number of times I've ran out in front of a moving vehicle. But they always stopped.