"Why am I here?!" "What's the point of living?!" "Why shouldn't I just do my classmates a favour and die?!" "Who really cares if I'm dead?!" "Nobody could ever love a worthless being like me!"

A small sampling of thoughts that have gone through my mind starting as a young child. And before I continue, I would like to point out that this is not a suicide note or anything of the sort. I would just like to say that these were real thoughts, simply because I had lost hope in anything. To give you an idea, here's a small little background story.

It’s a story of a man who lived with a fairly good family growing up, but who society tended to show the worst to after some time. For you see, he was considered a fat, dishonest liar by many growing up. He’d tell lies frequently, usually to look good in front of friends, family, and others. It was a kind of impulse act on his part, as if he were satisfying something inside of himself. Yet, it never worked out. He would always get caught in his lies sooner or later; and after a while, no matter where he went, people no longer wanted anything to do with him. He was ridiculed, bullied, tortured, and abandoned by friends. It’s like the story of the Boy who cried wolf, in which the shepherd boy kept telling the town that a wolf had come to attack his flock of sheep; and come the third time when the wolf really had come, the town didn’t believe him, and the flock perished.

In both cases, it doesn’t paint a pretty picture. The shepherd boy had suffered a great punishment with the loss of his dear flock of sheep. The gentleman in this story, suffered a great punishment with being ostracized by society as well. And as you may have already guessed, this story is about me.

As a child, I’d get laughed at and shunned by my peers, loosing out on interpersonal relationship skills. I began to suffer depression at an early age, feeling like no one could truly care for someone like me when I was the liar I was. I'd transfer schools, and things would get better for a little while, before I would slip back into the lies once again, and things would get bad once more. Sometimes it was worse than previous experiences of rejection and torment. Yet it never stopped, and I began as a young teenager to wonder if my life was really worth living, since all I could see was the pain deepening in my heart. At the age of thirteen, I started carrying out my first suicide attempt. I had planned to hang myself with an extension cord, on the back patio of the house; for in my mind, nothing was worth the constant torment and rejection which had been placed on me by my peers, even if I had played a role in it all.

My older sister stopped me and said her reasons were that she didn’t want me to kill myself whilst she was home, so she wouldn’t have to face potential blame from our parents. Things calmed down on the thoughts of suicide for a while as I decided just to deal with the insults in school as best as I could. Then news came that I’d be moving overseas to England for at least a couple of years after my grandfather on my father's side passed away. It was a chance at a fresh start, with not only a new school, but a new country.

Again, things were great at first, but I soon found myself slipping once again and telling lies to the other students, which resulted in more than just the usual rejection and such. It opened me up to a streak of violent bullying which still admittedly haunts my mind and heart even to this day. It was in that two year period that things began to really go sour, as I’d be bullied in manners that would make most people feel uncomfortable just to hear of, but to the students at that school, was seemingly pure joy. It got so bad that I would frequently come home with bruises from such incidents as emergency glass break hammers being smashed against my legs, being strangled, punched, headbutted, hit by cricket bats, etc.

My depression at this point was considered to have reached the point of no return, and thoughts of, and the plotting of my own suicide became more and more frequent. The events that occurred at that school had haunted me for years since my time there, and it made me question virtually daily, why I should live. Many factors would stop me from actually committing suicide. Whilst in England, it was thinking that by killing myself, I would be letting the students win the ultimate victory, which quite honestly made me sick to my stomach. Even long after leaving that school, I still hated the school and students for what had been done to me, even if I did share some of the blame. For a long time, I'd paint a poor picture of how England is and turn people who respected the English, into ones who despised the English for what had been done. A lot of Canadians and Americans I met in the following few years grew to hate the English as a whole, for the actions of those few. Something I admit should not have happened, and I apologize for.

It was several years later that things really took a change however. I built up the courage to visit the school over the Christmas Holidays whilst visiting my grandparents, and started to gain some closure. Seeing the facility with its new name and the numerous changes which had taken place to the site since I'd been there, I thought back to my years at the school and I began to release that energy of hatred I'd had, and forgave the school and began forgiving the students for everything that happened.

It's an ongoing process for me, as forgiveness doesn't come easy when you have memories like mine that playback frequently. But as I told one of my former classmates who had mentioned on Facebook that he felt bad about what happened; I had long forgiven him and whilst it did feel good to hear his words, I felt his life was better spent taking care of his family. I only hope he was found it in his heart to forgive me of my actions back then. There are those who my heart seemingly can not forgive no matter how hard I try, but in time, I hope to find it in me to allow those I've yet to forgive, that same forgiveness as well.

Well, that's the end of that rant of sorts.