Even though I was misdiagnosed, I would have benefited from being “wrongfully” euthanized than to live as the scum beneath my family’s shoes, having to learn basic hygiene and just about everything else on my own (while having to hide it from family since trying to be clean and mature is funny), and being in a “school” that educated me with YouTube videos while teaching me that my comfort doesn’t matter and to let anyone do whatever they want to me regardless of whether I like it or not. Fighting off a creepy stalker who copied everything I did and cornered me in the restroom made me the problem. She’s not a creep, I just don’t like. But letting another kid touch and try to rape me without reporting it (because why would someone care about something you Just Don’t Like) also made me the problem.

To this day I just tell everyone I don’t remember anything before Three Houses came out. I barely do anyway. I have no childhood memories, no family, no childhood friends, no pictures, nothing. Because while everyone else got to navigate their neighborhood and actually grow as children and teenagers, I sat on a short bus for 2 hours, in the same desk for 7 hours, then on the short bus for another 2.5 hours to go lie in bed and be out of sight like a good kid. I should have just died.