Autobiography Of High School

My story begins with my parents. My mother, Carrie, and my father, Mike, met as teenagers through mutual friends, were engaged at 19, and married by 20. In the late 1980s they bought their first home together and by September of 1991, my brother was born. My parents tried for a few years after to have another child, but nothing was happening. They decided that they were probably only going to have one child and kind of gave up. However, 7 and a half years after my brother was born came a great surprise, me! I was born February 4th, 1999 in Redlands, California. I was the first girl out of all the aunts and uncles to be born in a while, so naturally the whole family was ecstatic. My early childhood was documented with a handheld camera and put …show more content…
I transfered there because it was a bigger school with better opportunities than my smaller school had to offer. Still the student body was only around 500 for middle and high school, so it wasn’t a drastic change for me. Middle school was completely different than elementary school for me. Elementary school was a happy and carefree time for me and middle school was quite the opposite. Starting a new school struck me with anxiety and I believe middle school is when my battle with anxiety in general started. I knew people from elementary school there and my cousin also went there, so I always had people to sit with at lunch or talk to. However, I didn't make any deep connections with others. Most of my friends were surface level and got me caught up in more drama than I wanted to be in. Around this time as well, my mother and I started fighting all the time. I was very overly critical of all the things she did and when she said something wrong or made a mistake I would get very angry at her. Some of these fights got extremely bad and ended up with us screaming at each other. We seriously considered going to counseling because of how bad our relationship was at this point, but we ended up just having a serious 4 hour long talk amongst ourselves instead. My mother expressed that she thought I hated her and that she felt she wasn’t good enough as a parent. I told her that this wasn't how I felt and that I had been so unhappy with myself that I projected those feelings onto her. I was extremely critical on myself and I believed that because she was my parent she had to be better than I was, so I was harsh on her as well. We also figured out that I have a slight empathy deficit disorder meaning that it was harder for me to care about other people’s feelings than it is for most people. Facing the reality of my father’s death at such a young age had left me with a lack of caring for others around