You have to be willing to let go and make take a chance. To
see the beauty in this chaotic reality, we must do what scares us the most and allow
ourselves to let the unexpected happen. I really dislike sounding philosophical
because life is not written by a prophet, in this one world that we live in,
there are over seven million stories that are walking on this earth and
probably a million times that amount of stories untold. I’m going to lay all my
sd cards on the table, I am scared. I am terrified. I am frightened. However,
this is not going to stop me from making my dreams come true as I chase
tomorrow’s reality. While I am going through this life changing experience of
my last year of high school and my venture awaiting after senior year there is
one thing I need to get off of my chest that will allow me to grow even more.
Something I am not completely open about but I am beginning to finally confess
the nightmare that used to be my reality. I’ve told a couple of people this
year but before this year, no one, except one person knew this story. So sit
back, relax, and try to follow along. It all may sound confusing but to be
honest that part of my life was the most confusing part of my life.
Lately I’ve been contemplating whether or not if I should
reveal my true story. This blog is a part of me and a place where I feel I can
just put down my thoughts and in a way, I feel that my blog is missing
something; what it is missing is, how I became the way I am. I can sit here and
write all about how optimistic I am and how I believe in the inevitable, but I
was not always like this. It’s hard for me to comprehend that four years ago I
wanted to kill myself. There were parts in my life where I was truly unhappy, I
strongly hated change and I hated how people wouldn’t be the same person as
they used to. I used to think that I was nobody and believed that I could never
make an impact in this world. I used to cry myself to sleep every night and
even attempted to hurt myself but I never had the strength to actually do
anything harmful because I felt I was weak. I used to feel misplaced in my home
and felt that I could not trust anyone because everyone was letting me down and
in the end, I felt that everyone was going to disappoint me, so I thought, what
was the point of life? I am glad to say that I haven’t felt this way in four
years. Why did I feel this way in the first place? June 2006 my father got into
a car accident. That night was the first time I ever cried about anything.
Growing up I used to put a shield between outer appearance as I put on a façade
to hide my emotions. I thought that showing emotions was a sign of
vulnerability and it made me appear strong when in reality bottling up my
feelings was the worst thing I ever did. I remember my mom getting the phone
call and I remember going upstairs as I leaned my back against the bathroom
door crying. This night changed my entire life. I did not see my dad for 3
weeks because I was still in school and could not miss class. The hospital was
an hour and a half away which is a great distance for my grandmother who drove
my siblings and I. My mother took off from work for months to stay with my dad
at the hospital and my siblings and I moved from aunt to uncle and were barely
home for the summer. I remember seeing my dad for the first time. I fought so
hard to hide my emotions because I didn’t want anyone to know how I felt. The
bruises, the cuts, his smile. When my dad was finally discharged from the hospital,
he went straight to rehab because he could not walk. Every day my mom,
siblings, and I went to the rehabilitation center to visit my dad. I remember
the small white room with a grand piano and puzzles. I finished every puzzle
box in that room. My dad used a walker, a wheel chair, and crutches This was
the first time I have ever seen my dad at his weakest. No one was there to
carry me upstairs when I feel asleep on the couch, no one was there to play
basketball with me outside, he wasn’t there, he couldn’t be, he wanted to, but
he just couldn’t. When he finally begged to go home and have a personal trainer
help him at home, he didn’t stay home long, we had to install a hospital bed,
IV cords, and while my house resembled a hospital, my dad caught a fever and
went back to the hospital. I cried in my room that entire day. The doctor said
he couldn’t come home but he wanted to be home in time to watch my brother walk
to the bus stop for his first day of kindergarten. After he came back home for
that day, he went back to the hospital again. I remember when my dad first
learned to walk again, learned how to go up and down the stairs, and I remember
his smile. Through it all, he was still the same man he used to be but to me,
he was different. I struggled with this the most. During this time my older
sister was going through bulimia, my little sister was in the same position I
was in but she hide her emotions better than I did, my little brother could not
stand leaving my parents side because he was afraid one of them wouldn’t come
back. This is probably one of my greatest struggles. Eighth grade was my
turning point. I felt no one cared about me except for my English teacher. She
made me believe that someone in this world thought I had potential and that I
meant something to someone, she made me feel like she cared. For the first time
I cried in front of a crowd because she asked me one simple question, “Why didn't you tell your parents you got student of the month” I couldn’t answer
the question because I didn't want to admit that I felt no one cared about me.
I felt that everyone was occupied in their own world and I felt I had no one to
rely on. I ended up crying that entire day just talking to her and telling her
about my feelings. For the first time I revealed my feelings verbally to
someone because it was the first time I trusted anyone. She didn't tell my
parents and that meant a lot to me because I knew I could trust her. Till this
day my parents don’t even know. I guess this why teachers mean a lot to me, they
have taught me more about life than I could ever learn anywhere else, after
all, I spent most of my life in school. I remember all of my teachers since
kindergarten because each of them truly made an impact in my life. But yeah….I
don’t know where else to go with this. Behind this optimistic smile and my
laugh, there used to be pain.