At the beginning of the semester, I had a hard time saying goodbye to my mom more so than the ordinary freshman. I say that because less than a year ago we left home and on our own started a new life in Florida. Divorce is a scary word and I never imagined I would have to experience its effects. Last October I left my home and mom and lived with my grandma for a few months. We took only what was important and hit the road. That was the first Christmas I didn’t spend with my whole family. The first Christmas I didn’t spend at home. I ended all communication with my dad, leaving a void I still feel. The only person I could confide in and talk to was my mom, my best friend.
On New Year’s Eve, we returned to our house (without my father) and instead of the annual tradition of watching "The Twilight Zone" marathon, we spent hours packing. We quickly boxed up all of our things, which were all small memories of a life we would never have again. Throughout the night, all the lights in the house were left on and the rooms were ransacked. A passerby would have thought we were celebrating, but we were mourning. Eventually, clocks switched to midnight. During the first hours of 2016, I cried on the mattress that once used to be my warm and cozy bed.
We began the year in a duplex we rented in Tallahassee. My acceptance letter to FSU had not arrived yet, but I had a gut feeling this was where I was meant to be. Once the semester began in late August, my mom’s life changed again as she found a new career and moved back to Washington D.C. She now works as a flight attendant. Meanwhile, I’m still here as a mere freshman, with a depressing backstory that is hard to share. It’s difficult for me to move on from this. Often the memories of last Christmas or memories of moving out of the house will rush back into my mind. Throughout this experience, I relied on my mom and she relied on me. We persevered through the pain together.
Now that she is gone, I’ve had to rely on myself. I realized early in the semester that I could no longer rely on other people to help me get through hardships. I have to rely on own ability to stay emotionally stable and remind myself to keep pushing through. Sometimes I’ll have a bad day that will turn into a bad week. All of a sudden I’ll remember everything I once went through and think I’ll never get past that. But when the pain from the past returns and I think I never will get over it, I know that I must move forward.
Events that cause pain come and go, but there’s no way of knowing when the hurt will go away. I’ve had many friends commit suicide. I don’t condemn their choice because we all go through different troubles, but I remember how I felt after it happened. It was difficult to live with the image of a trigger being pulled by the same person who did homework with me. They left a void in this world, and in my heart. These horrible events seem to happen in an instant but leave a lingering pain. In an instant, my mom and I packed up our belongings and left home once and for all. In an instant, my old friend pulled the trigger and there's no going back to make him change his mind. I wish I could pack up depression into a little box and mail it somewhere far away, but I can’t. I do hope for the day it will leave on its own. Keep on breathing because you can. We are alive. Even waking up to another day is something to be thankful for.
Anyone who has ever been through a dark and depressing time knows that those feelings can be triggered again. When you feel yourself lose heart and you think you are slipping back into that world, just keep breathing. The memory of my dead friend, the memory of leaving my dad, they both cause me a gut wrenching feeling. The past is just a memory and triggers are just triggers. They don’t have to pull us back down into the dark. We have the chance to wake up tomorrow and make new memories. On those days where you don't want to keep living, just breathe. Keep persevering, because each second where we take our next breath is a triumph. Even through darkness, we can find a bit of light.
