My name is Gabrielle. Not Gabriela or Gabriel not Gabby either, just Gabrielle. However, I grew up the majority of my adolescent life being called Gabby, which to my great dismay was constantly found amusing amongst adults because I "talk a lot". Which for the record, I don't think is necessarily a bad thing. For this reason I hate my name. For another, it's the last piece of my psychotic biological mother that I have , my name being one of the only things she really ever gave to me, you know, besides a boat load of hereditary mental illnesses and emotional pain and suffering.
It's a long story. Which brings me here, writing out that story for the entire universe to see. I hope anyone who reads this will be entertained, and if I am lucky maybe they'll take something from this. That would makes me like so cool.
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There will be few chapters in this story, but the chapters are long, emotional and explanatory. Please give them a chance.