I was 26 years old when my father was officially diagnosed with bipolar disorder. After enduring a childhood of viscious verbal and physical assaults,i had hoped to put that chapter of my life behind me. From an early age i seemed to be the crux of my parents unhappiness and distain.When I was 5, my mother angrily threatened me with adoption...unaware that i was secretly jubillant! Finally an escape from my hellish existance.Days later I would find out it was a cruel, baseless threat. Although i search my memory for reasons for their hostility, the only conclusion that i can come up with is that i lied.In my fathers mind there was, and still is, no greater moral transgression. No matter how simplistic( yes I did eat my lunch,when in reality it was thrown out). I was still their "cross to bear".My 2 younger sisters somehow escaped their childhoods realitvely unscathed. As i got older, the glaring differences in his behavior towards me became more
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