My disappointment is a little different I didn't really get disappointed by someone or something I disappointed myself really, and it goes something like this. My mother started calling me a pothead when I was fifteen. Today when I go to a narcotic anonymous meeting I call myself an addict. I was born into an alcoholic family and we were not encouraged to express our feelings. I didn't know it was okay to be angry, sad, and depressed. As a child I isolated myself in my room I don't remember going outside to play with my friends. I do remember hurting inside and feeling sorry for myself. I continued to get sicker inside and when my older sister offered to turn me on to a joint in the seventh grade, I accepted. I had told myself I would never smoke marijuana, but I thought I was smart enough to handle it. Problems with using began happening immediately. I started skipping school, and I was getting in trouble at home. My attitude was rotten. I thought I was cool and getting high was......
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