Did you know that suicide is the second leading cause of death? Well, when I was 13, I came extremely close to becoming a teen suicide statistic. It all started when my parents lost their job. My dad, unfortunately, has Muscular Dystrophy so he could no longer maintain a work schedule so he retired early. My mom, on the other hand, felt as though she could stay home from work because my dad was home so she ended up getting fired. After the job incident, everything started to go downhill. They no longer wanted to do anything, my parents were active people, but for some reason, they just would not get out of bed and about a year later they started to abusing prescription painkillers. I began to notice little things like they would slur their
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I started developing depression, some days I would stay in my room all day because I did not want to be face to face with my incoherent parents. Don't get me wrong, I loved my parents, but I hated what they were doing and how they were acting. My friends would even notice that they were being strange. For example, my mom would come downstairs while I was hanging out with friends and start dancing sexually. I was extremely embarrassed, but also disgusted, so embarrassed in fact, that I ended up telling my friends that they had to leave. They slowly stopped coming over after that. Over time, I started to feel like I was a mistake. I would continuously ask myself “why would my own parents do this to me?” or I would ask myself “is there even a reason for living?” I felt as if it was my fault they were doing this like I was a disappointment to them and everything I did was wrong in their eyes. Not a good feeling when you are only thirteen years old. I began to dread coming home from school, not only that, but I hated living there as well. I remember there were many times that my mom and I would get into extremely bad arguments about the things they were doing and she would make me pack up a bag and leave. Let's just say I stayed at my grandparent's house most of the
I started developing depression, some days I would stay in my room all day because I did not want to be face to face with my incoherent parents. Don't get me wrong, I loved my parents, but I hated what they were doing and how they were acting. My friends would even notice that they were being strange. For example, my mom would come downstairs while I was hanging out with friends and start dancing sexually. I was extremely embarrassed, but also disgusted, so embarrassed in fact, that I ended up telling my friends that they had to leave. They slowly stopped coming over after that. Over time, I started to feel like I was a mistake. I would continuously ask myself “why would my own parents do this to me?” or I would ask myself “is there even a reason for living?” I felt as if it was my fault they were doing this like I was a disappointment to them and everything I did was wrong in their eyes. Not a good feeling when you are only thirteen years old. I began to dread coming home from school, not only that, but I hated living there as well. I remember there were many times that my mom and I would get into extremely bad arguments about the things they were doing and she would make me pack up a bag and leave. Let's just say I stayed at my grandparent's house most of the