Growing up
Imagine an eleven year-old little girl who still hid behind her mom when meeting new people, begging her mother to go to a medical specialist, on the sworn conviction that she was bipolar. This small "piece of work" as her dad called her, lacked a true understanding of the disorder she was convinced she had. Despite the dissuasive attempts of her mom, her stubbornness prevailed and she remained positive that, as usual, she was right, and had some sort of multiple personality disorder. Her parents knew that their youngest and only girl was a different sort of child, but they were confident that she was something special, not simply crazy. I still remember when I would walk to the nearby library, learning all that I could about bipolar disorder and dissociative identity disorder. Even after informing myself of the facts behind the condition, and realizing that I was neither depressed at a
Every experience is unique in its own way and I have always found that good or bad, I am better off having lived through everything that I encounter. Then, after team time is complete, and I drive to church for our youth group meeting, the boisterous side of me goes into hiding and the inquisitive yet more relaxed side of me comes to life. Through each day and season, as my activities change, usually mounting to an uncanny number, my chameleon-like brain continues to alter the side of me that shines through to the outside world. The various personalities that I display often morph into one, which highlights the person that is me. Those moments to myself which allow me to just take a deep breath, reflect on the world around me, and put things into perspective. I participate and always have a great time hearing what my friends have to say. For example, several of my desires include school, playing soccer, going to church, and spending time with family and friends. However, once the final bell rings and it is time for soccer practice or a long cross-country run, I evolve into an enthusiastic, energized athlete, encouraging my teammates and making the most of every practice and game. At school, the perfectionist inside me comes out. I love to be involved in activities that interest me, and have found it best to adapt myself in each situation to thrive in that environment. I have an almost one track mind focused on soaking in all the information the teacher presents and doing my absolute best. I felt, and still feel, as if inside my one body and mind, there are several entirely different forces competing to be my sense of self. Once I arrive at home, I alter my state of mind into a slightly more reserved person, muttering one-word responses to my parents' questions and planning inside my head what subject to tackle first and how much time to allot each assignment.
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