Seriously? When I was a little girl I used to host what I called "talk shows." With 50lbs strapped to my skin I could fit just perfectly on top of the old vanity that sat unused in the back room. It appealed to me I don't know why.. maybe because I was so fascinated with having something to talk to. I could talk and in return have the comfort of someone staring back at me. I could be my very own best friend, mother, and father. And I always thought I was a different kind of girl, I could tell by the way the other kids looked at me at school and it made no matter to me. I knew that someday I would make my mark in the world and I would be beautiful and smart and people would know who I was wherever I went... and then I grew up and the world wore on me and those childlike fantasies were taken away from me. With each person that hurt or abandoned me, with each dramatic experience I underwent I started building a wall. As my own personal force field for myself I would add a new brick to the wall. Each brick had a color, a name, or a description, and by age 13 the wall seemed to reach the moon and behind it was my ability to express true and honest emotion. I knew I had to get away, I needed to tear that wall down before it took me down instead. But, it's still there and so is my mental defect to emotionally shut down.