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The things I carry range in weight and size: the AP binders and textbooks in my book bag, the chapstick I carry in the front zipper pocket of my purse, the bulging homework folder in the front of my binder, the tiny flash drive that contains my whole high school career, the weight of two dead caregivers and my dad’s addiction, the stress all this puts onto a fragile teenage mind. (asyndeton) For somebody who is only 115 pounds, I sure seem to have a lot of strength. All these chips on my shoulder, and somehow I’m still alive. Physically, I carry quite a heavy load. My book bag contains two 3-inch binders full of packets and worksheets and homework and notes (polysyndeton), an AP Statistics textbook, three full folders of grades and …show more content…

Ten years later, and I’m still doing the same thing; I guess everybody has their own addictions. My dad has an addiction, and--while my addiction to perfection is somewhat unhealthy--his is much more extreme. Before I was even born, my father was doing drugs and making sure he left his mark wherever he went. After I arrived, he let the drugs cloud his vision and affect the way he saw his child. Instead of seeing the innocent child who was half of him, he saw a rag doll. Instead of seeing the kid he made in the living room playing with toys, he saw an annoying rat who made too much noise and distracted him from the TV. Instead of seeing a reason to get up and get a job, he saw a way to get food stamps and spend all his money on illegal substances. Sixteen years, three jail sentences, and several rehab facilities later and he has yet to change his life. He has claimed to have cleaned up his act multiple times, but he always ends up back at the same place. He has claimed to have attempted to make amends, but he really stabbed me in the back again and again, only cleaning up the spilled blood on the floor instead of healing the wounds in his own child’s spine. I can’t say there aren’t times when I miss my dad, but I CAN say that I’m carrying a little less weight without him. (Litotes) Now, I carry only the trust, abandonment, and attachment issues he forced into my brain every time he left me, and the

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