Personal Narrative: My Childhood Home

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I was 13 years old, just starting off high school, when I realized what this dark cloud that’s been floating over me for the past couple of months really is. It wouldn’t be until more than a year later until I seek out professional help. It started off innocently enough as just a feeling of constant emptiness at the pit of my stomach. It slowly turned into randoms bouts of extreme rage, where I’d take out my anger physically, not just on the walls and mirrors of my childhood home and not just on my family, but on myself. I couldn’t understand why I felt this way, why I wasn’t “normal”. I watched who I knew as myself distort and fade away. I saw how hard this was on my friends and family, but I couldn’t change how I felt. I was sick, obsessed

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