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To My 15-Year-Old Self Just Diagnosed With Bipolar
It would be great to escape into someone else’s brain. Shrink, “Honey I Shrunk the Kids” style, and burrow through their ear to hike among their gushy brain matter. Eventually, I’d find the Cineplex in their brain, grab some caramel popcorn and watch their life story unfold. Not the story of what actually happened, but the story they tell themselves about what happened.
