If I Could’ve Gotten a Gun, I Would Have Been a School Shooter
If I’d possessed a rifle, I would have been a killer. If I’d known love, I would never have wanted one
By Aaron Stark
At the lowest point in my life, I almost did the most horrible thing imaginable.
I grew up in a very chaotic and violent household. My mother tried to take care of my brother and me, but she too was a victim of my father, a violent and evil man. My stepfather was not much better, replacing the outright horror with drugs and crime. At 14, I was kicked out of my house for brawling with him. By 11th grade, I was a quiet, sensitive, obese social outcast with an affinity for poetry and comic books. I had no home and often slept outdoors; I felt alone and unloved. The isolation and bullying eventually became unbearable, and at 16, having already dropped out of my Denver high school, I tried to reach out for help. I went to a mental health clinic I’d passed to discuss my anger and my suicidal thoughts. I had no idea whether it was the right place to go. I knew only that the sign said “mental health,” and I needed some help on that front. I met with a very young “care provider” who did not seem trained to identify my problems and did not agree that I needed inpatient care. She sent me…
