I knew who you were long before I knew what you were. You were the yelling and fighting I heard mom and dad doing after I went to bed. You were the rowdiness at family parties and friendly get togethers. You were the absence of a parent figure that I so badly craved -- all my friends were “daddy’s little girls,” but not me. You were the reason I didn’t have a home -- just a house shared by four people who made the best out of their situation. I knew who you were -- I was just too young to know what you were.

By middle school, I knew what you were, and I didn’t like it. The strained relationships became severed. The life my parents had created was crashing down all around me. You went from being like a cold to being a full-fledged disease, destroying lives and tearing the family I once knew apart. You were the reason for multiple jobs lost and the unemployment checks growing smaller and smaller. You were the reason for all the arguments started one night, and the reason he didn’t even remember it happened the next day. You were aggressively attacking everything that I knew.

Fast forward to being 16 -- one of the most exciting times in anyone’s life. Not mine. The idea of getting my permit and finally having the freedom to drive was exhilarating and surely enough, the day after my sixteenth birthday I was a permitted driver. But you ruined that for me. You simply turned me into a designated driver for a parent who wasn’t all there. Every major milestone that I hit in my life, you reared your ugly face. You were in the countless number of alcohol-filled water bottles found hidden around my house. You were the reason the blame for these water bottles was placed on me and my younger brother. You really were cruel.

By high school, you had created the longest gap of unemployment I’ve ever known. You were the reason four people were living off of a single paycheck. You were the reason for my eagerness to go to college. At least that paycheck might go a little further with me being gone.

By college we became closer because on weekends, you were everywhere I turned. At first we had fun together -- you gave me a lot of laughs and a whole lot of confidence. But you also took from me. You stole my memories of nights that could have been the most memorable. The parties I thought I would never forget, I couldn’t seem to remember by the next morning. You sure helped me fit in though -- everyone else was doing it after all. We could all share stories with each other about our blackouts and our hangovers -- but never of the fun we probably had before you had taken it too far.

You were the reason for a homecoming that led to an emergency room and crisis center visit. The stress you had caused in my life had finally come boiling over and caused me to nearly make a permanent mistake. You stole so much from me.

You have also helped me, though. You are the reason I made a promise to myself to work as hard as I can to make sure I have everything I want in my life. You are the reason I push myself to take every opportunity handed to me, and strive for opportunities that even seem unobtainable. You are the reason I push myself every single semester to make sure to make Dean’s List or come damn near close, because I will not be average or do simply enough to just get by. You’re the reason I have already made a promise to the children that I do not have to always be present in their lives.

You are not horrible, though. In moderation, I’ve had some great nights with you. I’ve had some great stories shared over a glass of wine, or girls' nights with a Cosmo and some good gossip. You’ve allowed others to open up to me, and you’ve allowed me to open up to others. You aren’t horrible -- not completely.

But in my life, you’ve sure taken away much more than you have given.