English Journal #3

Something that horrified my parents was my mind. From maybe 6th grade to my junior year in high school, I was a very different person. In the beginning it started as me just not caring much about anything, life, people, and classes. I was a bit dark, and I was sad. I’ve never been sure why I was so sad, because I had not a thing to be sad about. I was healthy; I had friends, a home, and both parents. I was depressed, and I began doing unforgivable things to myself. I tried many times to tell my parents how I felt, how I knew something was wrong with me. They saw how sad I was everyday, they even tried to cheer me up.
Though, I think subconsciously they knew what was happening, and they just didn’t want to accept what was wrong. I scared them. When I finally demanded help, real help, my mom simply asked “cant you just pretend to be happy? Then maybe it will happen.” . I know she met well, but those few words stuck with me. This situation that happened keeps me feeling guilty, its why I try so hard in everything I do now. I guess I see it as a “im sorry”, for scaring them.
This is something that was naturally forbidden to talk about. It was never said out loud, but we knew to never talk about it. I know its just something they want to forget, I feel like they worry now when im upset. They are afraid of what happened, but their not afraid to ask anymore.
Though they became more involved in me, they didn’t approve of everything. There were ways of life that were quietly out of the question. I consider them typical parental belief/rules, don’t do drugs, don’t drink, gay is not good, believe in god, go to church, go to school. So of course, I broke every one of those rules. I decided if i hadn’t tried it, maybe I should, and I did. And I told my parents about it, I didn’t lie because I had no reason to. I wanted to be open with them even if they didn’t like what they heard, and they respected me for that.

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