Honestly, I'm always miserable. Always depressed. Always wishing I could just kind of end it, but unfortunately, to my family, I'm quite special. My father had always wanted a son and his first son died shortly after birth due to cancer, so when I was born, I was practically the guiding light of my family. My father was apparently on the same level as Jesus according to my family (loved by all and I've honestly never met someone who had anything but praise for him. Apparently he changed and influenced lives like it was a hobby), but shortly after my birth, he contracted cancer (Leukemia). My father died when I was 4 (am now 21) and while it's not my fault, I still found the need to blame myself for it for quite some time. I've always had difficulty with social endeavors and to my Mother's chagrin, I just ended up being so different from other kids. By the time I was 5, I had pretty much decided I would continue on to see if things would get better and if not, I'd just off myself, cease to exist, and no longer have to worry about anything. Unfortunately, things just never got better. So throughout these 17 years, whenever I decided enough was enough (which happened obscenely frequently), I'd either fail at killing myself or would change my mind last minute because of my family. When my father died, I became his legacy and a testament of his will. My death would be ending the last connection to my father that so many of my family members have. So I keep myself alive for a man I barely remember for the sake of everyone else and I can't stand it. I don't even feel like I have control over my own life.