Let me start off by saying “hello.” This is a journal for those interested (for whatever reason, be it curiosity, to have some dirt on me, or just whatever) to really get to know the real me. The me that matters. The me that no one sees. I am sharing this now because I believe that it’s important to be open about who you are. Not to be ashamed or embarrassed. You are you. You are beautiful. You are strong. But enough about you and onto me.
For those of you who aren’t aware, I was diagnosed (by a REAL doctor and not by myself) with bipolar depression. It runs in the family on both sides. I discovered that I had this when my parents were getting a divorce. I can’t tell you how badly it rocked my world to see my parents split up.
Before you begin to judge and hate on the fact that others have it worse, I am well aware of that. However, feelings are feelings. I was an only child. I never really “wanted” for anything. We weren’t rich by any means, but we were comfortable. Basically if I wanted something all I had to do was ask and it was mine. My dad works in a factory where he made a lot of money. My mom is a nurse who also makes a lot of money. I knew they weren’t happy. I knew that they would likely get a divorce, but I never expected it to be then.
My freshman year. We had just bought a house. Dad bought Mom and new car. A 2014 Nissan Rogue. A new set of engagement rings because the old ones were cheap and didn’t fit anymore. We had just come back from a trip to see the Biltmore in North Carolina. Life was great. Then dad dropped a bombshell.
He had been cheating on my mother for quite some time. He was moving out and they were getting a divorce. So again, I was pretty shook. To make a long story short, my mother tried to kill herself (maybe a story for later) and not long after I began my descent into darkness.
The point of me sharing this is to begin telling of what I experienced in a broken home at 14. And to just give some background into my mindset.