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I imagine that in life there is a turning point. A static moment that exists as you experience great loss. The moment after experiencing a first death was the event that made me understand the people closest to me more deeply. Each following year as I lost another friend or family member I became more engrossed with my understanding of self, and of vulnerability. I was faced with the difficult tasks of accepting and tolerating both my mother's inability to be a mother while dealing with the unexpected death of her mother and sister and my sister's manic depressive tendencies as they entered full swing. 

Most moments and memories good or bad, eventually begin to fall together to create a present. A never ending fear of the past, present and future, and the way time can warp sense of the past as life brings us into the present are the reactive turning points one might experience in response to difficult traumas. These moments, these people, these reactions and experiences have become mine. 

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