Sometimes I wonder how my mom could stay normal. I think she hides the bad feelings inside.
I admire her.
My brother had problems like me too. He was here four years. I constantly visited him. But he was like me so he did not enjoy my visits until the third year.
Now, after my brother's suicide I lost it too. It sucks to be this way but I wouldn't have met him if I did not come here.
Still, it sucks.
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