I don't remember the first time I called myself "bad." There was never a time I thought I was good. By 8 I hated my body. By 12 I was eating disordered and by 14 I was depressed. At 20 I nearly drank myself to death. I woke up in a CAT scan covered in vomit and dirt. At 21 I attempted suicide because I couldn't fathom living another day as me. It should have been an exciting time in my life, but I had no hope of ever being at peace with myself. Shortly after, I began to write, and the course of my life was radically altered. It took me 15 years, but I finished telling my story, and I am finally a published author. This memoir, The Bad One, is my story. May it bring peace to the scapegoat children of the world, and inspire them to reinvention.