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Confession

Hi, I’m Kelsey *Imaginary group repeats back “Hi Kelsey”* and I was labeled bipolar. Interesting that I just used the word label instead of diagnosed. OK so before I get into bipolar I might have just derailed my entire thought process by using the word “labeled” why did I use that?

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I’m Tired of Being a Caretaker

I get a phone call at 10pm. My mom. She’s grabbing some tequila and heading out to the porch. She tells me she doesn’t want me to be upset but her and my dad are separating, again. I’m not upset mom, this is the fifth time y’all have separated. She starts to cry to me about how she feels bad but she doesn’t want to care for other people anymore. I can relate to that….but I don’t give up on people I love. Maybe my perseverance comes from watching her and my dad give up on everyone and everything throughout my life. Maybe my strength and maternal instincts comes from watching them abandon my siblings while they deal with their own shit.

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The Ironic Cycle of Depression

The first thing to go is self care, the last thing is always my family. This is my five stage cycle that is supposed to remind me I’ve fallen deeper and deeper into my depression. To remind me to seek intervention. I never listen.


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