Through The Chaos
BY: RIN
Images by Winta Assefa
Growing up with the broken family I had was…an absolute mess.
I saw things that children shouldn't see. I lived in a depressing household and had to grow up too quickly. I had realizations and thoughts that I hope fewer kids will have in the future, even if it’s impossible.
I’m glad I went through the experiences you’re about to read about. Because I feel it has prepared me for life's hardships and helped me become who I am today.
~~~
From the ages of 5 to 7 years old, I was an innocent and oblivious kid. I thought that life was full of happiness and that there wasn't a single unhappy person in the world. My grandparents and aunt shielded me from all the bad things and I was so sheltered that I didn’t notice the toxic and sometimes abusive relationship my grandma and grandpa had.
During this time, I lived with my grandparents because my parents hated each other and couldn’t afford to get their own apartment. So my mom lived with one of her friends and my dad lived with his mom and sisters.
A vivid memory for me while I lived with my grandparents was my grandma hitting my grandpa. It started with my grandma and grandpa arguing at the dinner table. Then, things escalated quickly. One moment they were both just yelling, and the next, I looked and saw my grandma hitting my grandpa. My aunt was conveniently always in the living room during their arguments, and when things got violent she would quickly take my older brother and me to my grandma's room. This way, we wouldn’t have to witness the harm my grandma caused my grandpa, though she was never quick enough. I always caught a glimpse of my grandmother's hand raised, ready to strike my grandpa. Meanwhile, he curled into himself, trying to make the blows hurt less. This confused me greatly as a kid because I wasn't aware that this was abuse and that it wasn't normal. I would always wonder:
"Why are they arguing?"
"Why are my brother and I being pushed into Grandma's room? Why can't we stay in the living room?"
"Why was Grandma hitting Tata?"
"Why don't they stop being married to each other?"
Mind you that during this stage of my life, I didn't know what divorce was. All I knew was that my grandma and grandpa didn't love each other. Sometimes, when I was annoyed with their constant arguments, I would go up to my grandma and ask her why she was still married to my grandpa. This is how it would go:
"Grandma, why are you still married to Tata?"
"Because I love him."
Each time I got that response, I would always believe my grandma because I trusted her not to lie. Deep in my mind, though, I knew that it was a lie, but I never acknowledged the part of my mind that knew the truth. I stayed oblivious and continued to witness glimpses of the abuse and the sounds of two people who were supposed to be in love yelling at each other.
Between the ages of 10 and 13, I slowly began to see the world as a terrible place. I no longer lived with my grandma, and I was now living with my dad and stepmom in an apartment. This happened because, on my mom's birthday, I wanted to play Happy Birthday on the violin. I cried and called her to come home from work. Eventually, she did, but she was drunk. Her coworkers and boss stayed late so they could celebrate her birthday, and she drank too much. I was blamed for that night. My grandmother called me a drama queen; she blamed me for my mom coming over drunk, for the family arguing, and for my mom getting kicked out. So, my dad wanted full custody of my brother and me, and that's how we began living with him.
For the first two years of living with them, everything was okay. I was happy and blissfully unaware of what was to come. I was in a new school with a fairly large group of friends, and I started to learn more about God and how the world works. That happiness came to a sudden halt at the age of twelve. My grandpa passed away, which sent my dad spiraling into a deep depression that would take him years to get out of. Soon after my dad's father died, my stepmom's mother also passed away. This sent my stepmom into a depression that lasted the same number of years as my dad's.
Living with two depressed adults made my 13-year-old brother and me take care of the house chores. We were only kids, though, so the state of our apartment went down really quickly. Dishes piled up, things cluttered the tables and shelves, and our two dogs didn't get much exercise. My parents, specifically my dad, would always yell at my brother and me for many things. We didn’t do our chores properly or regularly, our dogs missed their walks, or we weren’t doing well in school.
All the pressure that was put on both of us caused us to become depressed and full of anger. My thoughts changed from innocent and unaware thoughts to horrible, depressing thoughts. I finally learned that the world wasn't kind to anyone all the time. During this time, I had many thoughts like this:
"I hate it here; I want to run away."
"I should run away tonight while everyone is sleeping. But how am I going to do that when Mom is sleeping in the living room?"
"Dear God, please keep my family safe and make the horrible feelings that I've been having go away. Please make my dad realize that he's treating my brother and me like his mom treated him while growing up."
"Maybe I should stop eating and slowly starve myself. Maybe then I won't have to wake up and see another day."
"I want to die."
Living in this toxic household made my mind sharp and observant, and it taught me how to hide my struggles. I learned when my dad was annoyed, so I knew when to avoid him. I learned how to overthink situations so I could avoid them, and I learned to hide the depression I was feeling. It wasn't typical for someone that age to experience this. It wasn't healthy, but it was how I coped and tried to feel better.
I'm now 17.
I'm not the sheltered little girl I was all those years ago, and I'm no longer that sad kid who wanted to end her life. I'm now a 17-year-old boy who's somewhat content with how life is going. I've sadly had to cut my mom from my life for a second time after only reconnecting with her for 4 years. Not because she still got drunk, but because she created unnecessary problems for my family and me. But I’m not sad; I’m actually happy that I was strong enough to do this.
My grandpa and grandma, who I lived with before, get along a bit better now. Still, I know they aren't happy together. I've now realized that love isn’t what's keeping them together, but their fear of dying alone.
My dad and stepmom are doing much better, and I'm now happy to live with them and wouldn't want it any other way. They're not perfect and still have their moments, but they've learned to manage their emotions better. And after years of my stepmom asking, I now have a little sister that I love a lot.
I'm now more aware of the world than I was when I was younger. I still have negative thoughts sometimes, but now they're directed toward the world we live in instead of my life. Those thoughts can look like this:
"How are people so full of hate? How can so much bother them when it doesn't even affect them?"
"People are stupid. I hate people."
"How can people like someone like this?"
"I wonder what my future will be like."
Instead of dreading to see another day, I now look forward to seeing what tomorrow has in store for me. And that’s all because I decided to fight through my struggles and change how my life was going instead of giving up.
This concludes my story on my young emo phase. What made me grow out of this point in my life was time. A year went by and I started to slowly remove piercings one by one starting with my eyebrow then slowly removing lip piercings. It was like I was shedding old pieces of myself every time I removed a piece of jewelry to gradually reveal the more mature person I was inside. I no longer fit the style I was in. Entering grade 11, I felt my life moving forward. I was growing up but my appearance reminded me of my younger self in the mirror so I changed what I had to change. I know there are people out there that genuinely enjoy that kind of style and aesthetic and they could completely do as they please. Whatever makes you happy and comfortable in your skin, please do! I just grew out of something that I thought fit me as a person but I was just young and curious. Even now, it’s embarrassing when my friends bring up those “remember when” moments. It was fun while it lasted but I’ve grown up, discovered way more things, and it’s now a sweet memory to look back on in my early high school days.
📣 What Did You Think?
Your reaction helps us choose the top story of the month and gives the writer some well-deserved love.
Tap a reaction below to tell us how the story made you feel:
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hi, my name is Rin. I am a grade 12 student at St. Joseph Morrow Park. Growing up was a struggle for me, but that's alright because I’m happy now. I now enjoy looking back on my past and looking at how I’ve grown as a person and how strong I’ve become. I like to read and do any type of art I can get my hands on during my free time and just do things that genuinely make me happy. One of my favorite things to do is listen to music while walking aimlessly, especially in isolated areas where I can enjoy the peace and quiet.
