My teen years were full of trauma. And, to make it worse, my dad couldn't understand what I was going through. Or so I thought. Some things you wish you could forget. I can well remember my teen years. All too well! There never was a time when I wasn't going through a traumatic experience. It might have been easier if my dad had understood all the difficulties and agonies I was going through. But how could he have? He didn't seem to feel things the way I did - things that bothered me didn't seem to matter to him much. Not that I thought a lot about what he thought. I had enough other things to worry about.
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