Majenta

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my grandmother’s international doll collection was stored—all those glass or button, unblinking eyes staring out at us from floor-to-ceiling cases. I would never tell my Gramma how many nightmares I had about those dolls or how, when I was in uncomfortable social settings and felt disconnected or judged, I was reminded of their stares.
A Common Struggle: A Personal Journey Through the Past and Future of Mental Illness and Addiction
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