“Have you thought about what you want to do in college?” I hear, as I gather around with my family. This all too familiar question always seems to escape from an older family members mouth at least once or twice whenever we are together. If you ask me, I will probably tell you I’ve been hearing that question since I was in fifth grade and I was never sure of the answer until a few years ago. “So, what do I want to do with my life…” I am going to tell about how I made my decision.
From an outside perspective, my life seemed normal and happy and for the most part it was. I was always surrounded by my two loving and supportive parents, our families joined together to celebrate the holidays, I played outside till dark even summer night, and had my little friend group. All of which are normal activities for a kid growing up. The only real psychically difference in our family was my mom could not drive, which did make certain activities more of a challenge and we never were able to get involved in sports clubs, but we made it work. What people didn’t see was the constant battle each and everyone of us faced, there was always the thought of, “when will another seizure happen?” “what if we aren’t there to help her?”
“Unsettling, scary, and horrific” those are the three words I used to describe my mom’s seizures in a paper I wrote back in sixth grade.
Both my mom and dad were hit by a drunk driver on their way home from celebrating the success of her restaurant Mama Tequilas, a Mexican style Cantina located in downtown Columbia. My father, Jerry, sustained multiple internal injuries while my mom, Susan, suffered a traumatic brain injury and broken bones including, L-radius, ulna, femur, femoral neck, R-ulna, femur, tibia, fibula, knee cap 2/3 missing, multiple fractures of pelvis, collapsed right lung, right optic nerve damage. She had a 50 percent chance of survival and it took numerous surgeries to correct injuries, but that wouldn’t be the end of it. A few years later in 2003, my mom began to have seizures. When I was younger, I didn’t understand all that was going on and never truly accepted the reality of the situation.
In the years following, my mom was in and out of the hospital and traveling around to find new treatments. It was a part of my life I kept hidden in the dark, not even my closest friends truly knew what was going on inside the walls of our house.
In 2010, she made the decision to have surgery in hopes the seizures would stop or at least slow down, but it proved to be ineffective. Over the course of the next three years my mom wasn’t the same person I had known before. She would get angry easily, find excuses as to why she shouldn’t leave the house, and slept a little later each morning. In her eyes, she had this blank stare that couldn’t be shaken, one that clouded the joy she once felt and knocked her down. The blank stare was depression, the dark cloud which followed her around even in the happiest of times. The smile that once lit up a whole crowd of people was gone, rarely did I hear her laugh or smile the way she used to, a laugh that warmed your heart and filled you with joy.
I didn’t understand what my mother was going through, I would get angry at times because I didn’t understand why she didn’t want to get out of the house or do something with me and I regret all of the opportunities I turned down to be with her because I was angry and confused. It is weird how much clearer things look in hindsight. Everyone in my family walked on eggshells around one another, unsure of what to say or do at any moment.
A month after my 13th birthday, my mother took her own life. I had just gotten home from school when an unfamiliar note was placed perfectly in the center of the empty brown desk in my sisters room. The words on the page brought me to tears, I had no words left. I was in complete shock and terror. Now, only to find myself today in the same place my mother was three years ago. For me, it was the day my childhood ended and I learned more about life in a matter of minutes then I would have in a lifetime as well as what I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing.
For the longest time this was a part of my story I hid and kept a secret from the outside world, but after connecting with others who too had lost a family member to suicide, I truly realized the importance of speaking out.
The first year, I held all of my grief in just beneath the surface and didn’t allow anyone to see the pain I was experiencing. After my mom had passed I was told I needed to speak with my school’s outreach counselor, I was absolutely terrified, “why in the world would I want to share the worst experience of my life to a complete stranger?” and I didn’t. I sat there in silence while she explained to me exactly what “grief” is and the way I am feeling is normal.
After building up the courage to open up, I found peace in talking with her and having someone who understood what I was going through. It was then I decided I wanted to become a counselor and later start Hope Club at my high school.
My mom always said “everything happens for a reason, and there is good and bad in everything.” I have found that quote to be true with almost everything that happens in life. Of course I would do anything to have my mom back with me, but there was a reason and I wish more than anything those reasons could have been found otherwise, but they couldn’t have.
Although she is no longer with me, she continues to inspired me through your selflessness, determination, kind spirit, dedication and loving heart. I truly believe that she are always with me, at times I can feel her spirit near, there to comfort me.
Honestly, being a counselor terrifies me, but I will be able to help others through my own experiences.One question I always ask when I am talking with one is, “What made you want to become a counselor?” and the answers I have received are truly inspiring. The positive impact all of them have left on me still stands true today and I could never thank them enough for all they have done and continue to do.
Life doesn’t always make sense and there will be bumps in the road but it is what you do after you trip that matters the most.
