You know that shy, quiet boy? The one with the knobbly knees, bobbly elbows and a silly haircut? Well, that was me. I was an intelligent child and a decent enough sportsman. I had plenty of friends but I didn’t smile a lot. I’m not a boy who had a tough upbringing. To all intents and purposes, my childhood was idyllic. I was afforded every opportunity and never wanted for anything. I was born into a loving family and grew up in leafy suburbia, a far cry from anything that could be seen as deprivation or hardship. I lacked a little confidence but really the world should have been mine to make of it what I wanted. I should have been full of excitement and enthusiasm for my life ahead, but unfortunately happiness continued to elude me and I became preoccupied with one obsession. My desire to be dead.
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