I was a sophomore in high school when it started. My parents had disagreed many times while I was growing up, but that was at night behind closed doors. This year was different; full of many fights that I was not shielded from. I remember one night more vividly than the rest--the night my dad first got kicked out.
I was watching TV in my room when I heard yelling from upstairs. I have always been the kind of person who wanted to know what was going on around her, so I ran up the stairs as soon as I heard it. I open the door to the upstairs hallway seeing my two youngest siblings standing to my left, hysterically crying. I see my 13 year old sister, Ellia, trying to get them to their rooms, then she headed over to the kitchen.
"Can you guys not do this in front of them?!" Ellia raised her voice at my parents.
"Oh, I'm sorry this timing isn't convenient for you. Maybe if your dad didn't drink everyday we wouldn't be having this problem" my mom responded.
My mom proceeded to argue with my dad. To understand their arguments, you would have to know that my dad is the kind of person who likes to avoid conflict in fear of getting hurt, and my mom, the exact opposite. My mom yelling at my dad through cries, my dad standing there stuttering knowing nothing he says will make a difference. Then I heard the words no child should ever have to hear come out of their parents mouth: "GET OUT! GO TO YOUR MOMS OR SOMETHING AND DRINK THERE!" my mom shouts.
I watched life fade out of my dad's eyes as he tried to reason with her. It was in this moment that I ran back down the stairs not being able to take anymore. As I collapsed to the floor at the bottom of my stairs, I screamed out cries gasping for air. It was as if everything awful thing on Earth had entered my body and was attacking me all at once.
This would mark the first of many times my parents had "separated" and got back together. They have not divorced, but are in a continuous cycle of back and forth. Every time I find peace with a decision, they change their minds. This night would mark many things: my first panic attack, the start of my trust issues, my constant in-comfort in something getting too comfortable, never wanting to be home, and my anxiety and depression. I battle the struggle of all of these affects to this day.
This long four year journey of back and fourth has destroyed me in ways I cannot begin to describe, but has also helped me grow. Through this journey, I have gained empathy, emotional awareness, conflict sensitivity, adaptability, independence, and a desire for stability. Through all of the times where I felt I had no control, I found myself enjoying helping those who came to me with similar things.
Through my loss of control, I found something to give me hope: helping others. Even though I felt like everything in my life was falling apart, helping others through their struggles made me feel like I had been dragged through everything for a reason. Even though my life has felt messy and unstable, I've learned that what I went through does not have to define me, but can be used to help others who feel alone and lost. To me, this is just as rewarding as finding peace for myself.