My confusion is but a phase — and I am not afraid of phases. – Muriel Strode

When someone is faced with the confusion of who they are they often find themselves faced with looking back to where they have been. In my case…that is the base of my confusion.

Over the course of the last few months I have been overcome with a deep depression. While this is not uncommon with someone with bipolar disorder, the situations compounding my depression are far from normal. I am dealing with circumstances not only beyond my control, but beyond my ability to adequately cope with and comprehend.

I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know my family. I don’t know my past. Yes, I have my memories. Yes, I have the family that I have known my whole life…but I am now left wondering if they are actually indeed my family. I have known for a while that there is a possibility that my daddy wasn’t my actual biological father, but now I have recently learned that my mothers father may not have actually been my mothers biological father either. I cannot help but wonder if I have somehow awoken in some sort of episode of the Twilight Zone or that somehow life is playing some sort of cruel joke on me.

Ancestry on both sides is pretty messed up, and in all honesty one of the best things that could ever happen to me would be not being related to either side…with the exception of a cousin that I absolutely adore (that shares my name) and an aunt related by marriage to an Uncle I once adored but who has long since passed away. Everyone else has treated me horrid in my life and as far as I am concerned would be better off suited in a distant memory.

Do I want to know the answers? Do I deserve to know? How would I find out?

I am so confused.

And hurting.

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