Estranged (siblings )
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  • Parts 4
  • Time 5m
  • Reads 53
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 4
  • Time 5m
Ongoing, First published May 01, 2019
My name is Madilyn. I am 16. I estranged my brother.  This is my story....

note (from  psyche to go ) 
Estrangements from family are one of the most psychologically painful experiences anyone could experience. It almost goes without saying that estranging yourself from family is absolutely counter-intuitive. Adding more stress to the already-stressful mix, society tends to project harsh judgment on people who reject their family - even as disturbed as some families can be. As a therapist who, by profession, must work to find the empathy for anyone who comes for treatment, it is hard to swallow the fact that some men and women can be so judgmental about others' experience - especially when they have no real idea about how bad things may have been in the estranger's family!"

and I agree. In this book, I talk about my experiences and what led me to this decision. some events will be hard to swallow... but at least you didn't have to go through it.
This story deals with the topic of borderline personality disorder (BPD) and mental health in general.
If you know someone in need of help, whether it be you or someone else please don't hesitate to call 
Suicide Prevention Lifeline -- 1-800-273-TALK
Trevor HelpLine / Suicide Prevention for LGBTQ+ Teens -- 1-866-488-7386
Crisis Text Line -- Text HOME to 741741
Gay & Lesbian National Hotline -- 1-888-THE-GLNH (1-888-843-4564)
IMAlive -- online crisis chat
Teenline -- 310-855-4673 or text TEEN to 839863 (teens helping teens)
National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence (NCADD)-- 1-800-622-2255
Partnership for Drug-Free Kids -- 1-855-DRUGFREE or text your message to 55753
Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) -- 1-800-662-4357

Thank you .
All Rights Reserved
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Pinwheels and Dandelions by cjacks1124
177 parts Complete
I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.
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177 parts Complete

I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.