Please judge me.

I started to deviate from the path of normal life sometime during second or third grade. I began to embrace video gaming, computers, and most other aspects of the digital lifestyle much more then the other children. I started to get terrible grades and so all the adults in my life (except my mother) just assumed I was a moron. The teachers thought that I should no longer go to their school anymore because I was not under their definition of intelligent (I went to a G.A.T.E. school at the time). They gave me a test to see where I stood on the “Smart Scale”, as it turned out I ended up having the same overall brainpower as the average middle school student, and the reading comprehension of a sophomore. From that point on I was watched closely all throughout my life during elementary school and got different treatment then the rest of my peers. I was allowed (encouraged actually) to interact with the other students during lunch and recess without the staff hovering over me, although even then I would be monitored from afar. Other children often rejected me because I didn’t like to participate in physical activities and also because I enjoyed having conversations about things they didn’t (and shouldn’t) grasp like politics. I was very socially blunt and would inform someone of something without easing into it, for example, if I felt attracted to a girl I would simply tell her as opposed to trying to construct a relationship with her first, which is why I was never able to build a healthy relationship with any girls at that time. I kept spiraling downward emotionally because I was constantly rejected; the pain eventually began to smother me. I completely isolated myself from outside life and dwelled on all the negativity flowing in my mind. I was depressed, and cried myself to sleep night after night, after a while my sadness turned into anger, then hate started to accompany my anger. Compassion was switched with fear in the hearts of those who tried to support me. By middle school I was completely devoured by hatred. I loathed the kids around me; I wanted them to murder them all. Teachers at my charter middle school started to get concerned because I was so anti-social and because they would occasionally find my grotesquely violent drawings and overwhelmingly disturbing writings depicting the killing of others with a variety of firearms. I did not associate the drawings and stories with one or two students, because they weren’t the only ones I wished were dead. I wanted a mass slaughter, the death of all mankind. I wanted my revenge distributed unto all people because it was humans who filled me with suffering. I would take my anger out upon the only person who loved me to no end, my mother. I would shout at her, tell her I hated her, make her weep, and felt no guilt for doing so. Guilt was not something I felt, because I believed that all the pain I delivered to others was completely justified. My history teacher would ask me “What do you think would help solve some of the problems across the globe?” every day after school even though I never gave a response. After about a month of him doing this I decided to answer him, I walked towards the exit, stopped right in front if the door, let out a sigh as I looked down at my feet, I rested my hand on the doorknob, turned and stared my teacher straight in the eyes. He again asked me “What do you think would help solve some of the problems across the globe?” and then met his eyes with mine, I thought for a second and then replied “violence solves all problems; no people, no problem” (I later learned that I had actually quoted Stalin).