2010, October the 23rd. My therapist said that I should always write down my thoughts. Well...I'm writing. I Don't know what I'm supposed to writing. My thoughts I guess. I've had 5 minor accidents in my life since I was 7. What can I say? I loved being out on the huge four wheeler farm bikes with my dad. I suppose you could say that I'm depressed or mentally unstable, but I'm not. In my eye's I'm not sick at all. Just trying to find my way into the world. I'm 13 years old for god sakes. I still have time, right? My mum has tried many things to help me get over my so called "sickness". I'm not sick or crazy or anything. I'm completely normal. Like everyone else except nobody seems to worry. This Diary is bullshit. Why am I even writing any of this? What is the point? Kyle signing offAll Rights Reserved
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