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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1350617-Growing-Pains
Rated: ASR · Non-fiction · Family · #1350617
A continuation of the story "The Unknown Girl"
         This is a continuation of the story told in
 The Unknown Girl  (ASR)
The life of an abused girl.
#166895 by Beth is a mama!
. Reading Part 1 of my life will make this part more understandable.

As in Part 1, the names in this story have been changed.

         As you can plainly see, my childhood was not easy. My adolescent years didn't get any better. When I was 11 years old, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I was 12 when he died 9 months later on January 17, 1999 after suffering excruciating pain. I had to watch it all, unable to help him or Mom. I had to watch as my family grieved, as my mom fell apart, though she thought no one could see it. I had to watch as my sisters grew apart when they should have been drawing together. And I was helpless to stop it.

         My therapist told me I have issues with rejection and abandonment. Not surprising, considering my experiences. Maybe that's what made Dad's death so difficult for me--another person supposed to love and take care of me, gone. Gone and I will never get him back, not in this life.

         My sense of helplessness was also troubling. Dad had fought for me, had literally saved my life. He'd protected me through so many difficult times. He'd helped me, eased my pain through so many surgeries, taught me valuable lessons, rewarded me when I did well, and chastised me when I made not-so-great choices. Dad did so much for me, and I couldn't do a blessed thing to help him. I felt useless, and I hated myself for it. Even now, that's a feeling I'm still dealing with.

         A few years later, life was finally starting to look up. I was a senior in high school, I had been accepted to college on a full scholarship. My family was happy, for the most part. Mom had found companionship with a friend, a man that the three of us still living at home had come to really enjoy being around, and, in our own way, had come to love him. She was happier, and so we were happier because of it. My relationships with my sisters were improving.

         But, as so often happens, our happiness was once again interrupted by tragedy. On November 17, 2003, my sister Leah was in a serious car wreck. Leah was driving home from nursing clinicals, hurrying to change and get ready before going to work as a manager at the local theater. But alas, it was not meant to be. An 18-year-old girl ran a red light as Leah was making a left turn and T-boned her in her driver's side door. The car was so far smashed in that there were barely 18 inches left on the driver's seat. Her pelvis ruptured, her hip fractured, and her neck dislocated, leaving her a quadriplegic for the rest of her life.

         She was only 19.

         I was in class when I was called to the office that day. The secretary gave me the phone and told me something had happened to my sister, and since they couldn't find my mom, I had to talk to the people from the hospital. What a mess that day was, and the following weeks. It changed my life and my relationship with my family. I grew closer to Elisabeth, whom I had finally nicknamed "Teeny", while I drew away from the rest of my family. It didn't seem to matter anymore. Life was taken away or ruined so easily, so why bother making anything out of it?

         I moved out of Mom's house the July after I graduated. Shortly thereafter, I left for college, which is another tale in and of itself. Suffice it to say that now, more than three years after Leah's accident, my life is once again heading in the right direction, a fortunate event for which I am very thankful.

         People are so optimistic. You hear cute little anecdotes about being optimistic and making the best out of what you're given all the time. It's not easy, but it's worth it. I've been to hell and back, and believe me, it's worth it. The climb back is long and hard, but when you finally get to the top, you know exactly what all of it was for. All the pain, the grief, the trials, the sadness, the tears, the worries--it all makes you stronger. That's what life is for. Yeah, life sucks. It's going to, there's no way around it. You just roll with the punches and know that nothing happens by coincidence.

         Nothing.
© Copyright 2007 Beth is a mama! (rubyprincess at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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