The Depression I hate it. These years. They shouldnt be called the teens or adolescence, they should be called the depression. Thats what they ar - one long, eternal stretch of mental gouge and emotional pilepour.Crying for no pobvious reason and tinctureing heartbroken everywhere nothing apparent. It feels like all of my feelings are in a washing machine. Spinning around and round, going up and down, acquiring drenched and mushed, muddling up with everyone elses and when you detangle them they are never the same as they were. Just like when you put your favourite top in for its first wash.
When the turnmoil is over you spend ages unravelling it from around you brothers jeans only to discoverit doesnt feel right anymore. Whenever the sun shines, you have no spots, your hair sits and you are generally feeling good, there will ALWAYS be something or someone who will drag your head down from the clouds into the grey, dull world known as the teenage years and make you fee...If you indispensability to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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