When I Was 8 Years Old, I Became Depressed. I Kept Asking Why I Was Born This Way [without Arms And Legs]. I Also Worried About My Future. At The Age Of 10, I Tried To Commit Suicide Because I Felt Like Giving Up. But When I Imagined My Loving Parents Crying At My Grave, I Decided To Stay.
I Do Love Compliments, Yet I'm Often Embarrassed To Say What I Think To The Person When I Get A Compliment. I So Often Feel That They Have Not Gone Far Enough.