My story

When I entered elementery school, I was the coolest kid in the grade. Every kid wanted to be me. i was popular, had good clothes, a lot of friends, good grades. Anything I ever wanted was mine. I had good morals, never made fun of anyone, never was rude. Yes ma'am and no sir all the time. I had a good, problem free life. But then, in third grade, I noticed something strange.

I couldn't pronounce things as easily as I used to. Strange i thought it. It's as if I was forgetting how to say certain things. Then it progressed, and I started to stutter uncontrollably. I couldn't talk, and my head and arms would move on their own, all the time. I was losing control of my own body. At the age of 8 I was diagnosed with Tourette's Syndrome.

I lost all of my friends. "Hey look! Ray's hitting himself again!" "Shut up and talk like the rest of us!" " Why are you doing that? Are you retarded or something?" I grew to hate humanity. How dare they be happy whilst I suffer!? Why did they! Who hated and envied one another, deserve perfect bodies when the perfect me, was condemned to this!? I was everything anyone ever wanted me to be! And I am to be rewarded with a body that won't listen to my own commands while they laugh!?

i went threw several medications that only worsened my condition. Dealt with many doctors who had no idea what they were talking about, but pretended they did to keep a costumer. I gave up on everyone. I wanted everything to leave, everything to be quiet. I wanted every living thing on the planet dead so I could just be me, without THEM. This is what an EIGHT YEAR OLD BOY was thinking! At 10 years old I decided I was threw. I'm in charge now, because YOU don't know what's wrong with me, and as long as I keep paying for medicine, you won't try to find out. So I quit. I threw away all the pills and began to hurt. But I studied myself, and human psychology. I learned everything I could about the mind.

After 7 years of torturous self experimentation, research and fighting, I'm finally me again. Tourette's is still there, but I've bolted him to the wall, and laughed at it's screams. THIS IS MY BODY and Tourette's can't have it. I wasn't going to let something like this, a defect, a broken part of my own mind, have it's way with me. If it argues with me, I'll grab it by the throat and FORCE it to listen to me. It's a vehicle and I'm the pilot, and I was going to fix it, and prove that I'm still me, that I'M the one in charge. Not some damned disorder. And for the first time in 9 years, I'm the one smiling.

The moral of this story is don't complain. No matter how bad your shit is I can guarantee mine will almost always be worse, and if I can be happy you can too. So take charge of yourself, and value what you do have. Because you don't know what you have until the darker half of you takes it away.