There is mental illness on both sides of my family, and I’m not blaming anyone that I bore the brunt of it all, just stating a fact.
I was angry beyond just regular teen angst, did the kookiest things, and had a raging cage of undiagnosed Tourette Syndrome that my family pretty much neglected to acknowledge.
Oh yes, I was crazy. But I was also smart and talented and pretty. People thought I was simply charming, or particularly daring, or a good sport or radical, or or, or, something and somebody out of the ordinary.
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