Residing Dreams (Chapter 39)

Of course,things got worse before they got better.As much as I hate to reminisceon days that weren’t thebest oftimes,they are still the past as much as the happytimes are.There were pointswhen Ithought about death often,and Ifelt so nervous,anxious,scared,lost,depressed,and hopeless.My father wasn’t doing much better,but I know he worked hard at putting on a happy face for my sake.Really,he tried,and that was something I had to thank him for.He had succeeded up to now,when theknited rainbow sweater ofour life beganto unravel.I had gone from slendertosickly,from a little pale to pasty white as a ghost.My fatherhad gone from sensitivetoshaky,from touchyto terriblytempered.Like I said,he tried to help me.He took me to see a theripist for my issues ofOCDand anxiety.Ihad gone toa theripist fora long time,andthe only personI could confide thisto wasJanuary,because she did too.She had OCD , but she didn’t have a homosexual father!That was the one thing I could never speak openly about,not even to the man upstairs.

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