I grew up in an abusive houshold. My grandmother made every excuse she could to beat me. When I sought help form other relatives they told me that it was perfectly fine. That's just who she is. That's the way they were raised. So I grew to accept the fact that every time i got punched in the face it was somehow my fault. Which is why in middle school when kids were beating me up I never bothered to fight back. I never once sought help from the teachers. For me, this was just another fact of life. I was beat up at home. I was beat up at school. I never once had a place where i felt safe. I never one felt like anyone actually cared about me. Which is why I tried to kill myself every year of high school. I never tried to get good grades, apply to college or look for jobs because I had no intention of surviving till adulthood. Then suddenly, i was an adult...and i was homeless. Thankfully, I went to a place called Haven for Hope. They helped me get into college, find my first job and move into my first apartment. I spent years working a menial labor job for barely any pay while going to college full time. As I finished college I tried to chase my dreams with absolutely no success. I spent years struggling through mental illness trying to find some sense of joy in my life before deciding that I needed to write this book. It's the story of my life in my own words. It's not a happy story. The only happy thing about the story is that fact that it's not over. I'm living the sequal right now.