My family is a mess. Like a family we are not. We are more like a pack of wolves. Bipolar is my father. A mountain that you know not if it hides gold or lava. Always guessing if today is the day to hide or to ask for something. Depression is my mother. Always sad, yet acts the opposite. Sometimes she is crying but only when she thinks no one else is near. My brother, ADHD. He is the one that is always gone. Never noticing and always forgetting. Cannot remember if he was right or wrong. A leaf in the wind that fights against it. I am OCD. At least that is what the doctors say it is. I am always over analyzing, looking too deep and yet missing the surface. Seeing the literal in literature and only the bottom in life. Making my mission more mingled than my mission must make it. My family is a mess. Too many things are wrong with it but I could not trade them for anyone else, nor would want to.
March 29, 2010