August 27th, 2017 was a day that I will never forget for as long as I live. A day that changed my life forever. It started the same as most other days that summer; my mom was sleeping on the couch while I was watching TV at 3 AM. I was watching "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby" when I noticed my mom was making some strange coughing sounds. It almost seemed as though she was trying to get my attention but I thought I was just being paranoid. After the movie ended I was ready for bed but I wanted to check on my mom first to see if she was alright.

What occurred next was the most horrifying event of my life. I called out "mom" and I shook her, no response, I tried again, no response, after a third try she woke up but she wasn't right at all. Her eyes were wide open, she was shaking and sweating, her mouth was filling with vomit, she was unable to open her mouth, and she looked terrified. I felt my heart drop throughout the entire ordeal and I yelled, "Mom don't do this, please be alright". She took my hand and put it on her forehead. Her right hand was shaking but her left hand just laid still on the couch. It was at that moment where I realized that my greatest fear was a reality. What claimed my grandmother's life in February of 2010 was back. My mother was having a stroke, I was so frightened because I was thinking that I would lose my mother. I felt that my world was crumbling since I lived alone with my mom since my grandma died. I felt that my life was over and that I would never make it a day without her. She's all that I ever had, the only person that I could count on when times got tough, but now she needed me. The enormous responsibility of getting her the help she needed was all on me. I collected myself and I called 911 immediately. She was rushed to the hospital and taken to the ICU.

I sat in the hospital with this awful feeling in my chest while I thought of how I was going to cope if she died. I finally decided that instead of making myself crazy over something that didn't happen yet, I should call my father and my stepmother and tell them about what happened. They said that they would come right away and they were very supportive. Little did I know that that phone call would be one of the greatest turning points of my life. They offered to let me live with them in Howell, New Jersey until school started. I was shocked at that offer because I was always told that my dad didn't really care about me. In fact, I was told a lot of things about my father that weren't true. I was taught to fear my father. I was taught that he was irresponsible, an idiot, selfish, "a failure as a father", and that "he gave me up".

Honestly, I was a little reluctant to go with them because my mom wanted me to stay with her best friend if anything ever happened to her since she didn't trust my father at all with me. When I was younger I didn't want to see my father anymore because I felt we did dangerous things together, and I was afraid of his girlfriend at the time. But I always wanted to give my father another chance at having a relationship with me but whenever I asked my mom about seeing him again she would always bring up the past and make me afraid again. She also didn't want to share me with anyone else and was also fearful that I might love someone as much as I loved her. But now I finally had the opportunity to be with him and I took it. And so began the best and most important year of my life.

Change, something that I always hated and struggled with, something that I always tried my hardest to avoid. I always felt it was a bad thing, something that would send my life careening off a cliff into an abyss of failure and despair. But change was upon me and I had to accept it. I had to accept that my mom would no longer be able to do everything for me, that I would have to become more independent than in my last 17 years combined, that I would have to grow up. These were some of the most valuable lessons I learned this last year I spent with my father.

I came into his house with the maturity of an 8-year-old. In my first 17 years of life, my mom never told me that I did anything wrong, she thought I was perfect. She loved me so much that she was afraid that any reprimanding would hurt me and make me upset. In her eyes even to this day, I am still 2 years old. There were a lot of horrible habits that I had to drop quickly.

At 17 years and 3 months old I still didn't make my bed, didn't comb my hair, didn't use deodorant, had my mom cut my nails, had my mom apply cream and powder to my rashes, I didn't see what was wrong with family members seeing me naked, chewed with my mouth open, made loud slurping sounds with my drink, didn't know how to properly use a fork and knife, didn't sleep by myself, played on my phone while visiting family, didn't socialize well or at all, whined and complained when something didn't go my way, was extremely self-centered and didn't see or care about what was important to other people, had temper tantrums, had no filter, never helped clean up, never had any chores or responsibilities, blamed everything on other people, always compared myself to other people, enjoyed it when other people failed or suffered, avoided other people yet complained about not having friends, complained about life, hated life, wanted others to feel bad for me, and overall I was just a little boy stuck in a man's body.

One of the best things about this whole situation was that my father and stepmother were finally going to reprimand me over habits that should've been taken care of over a decade ago. However, it didn't come easy for any of us. I grew up being told that I was always right and that my father was an idiot and a horrible parent. I was also not very open to change and I never took any criticism well. Because of this whenever he told me I was doing something wrong I got really defensive about it. I got in heated arguments with him where we both would be shouting at each other and I would keep bringing up my same ridiculous reasons such as, "Is it going to kill me if I don't make my bed", "Why do I have to care about what other people think of me", and "I can't learn how to eat properly".

There were times where I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, there were times where I felt that I hated him, there were times where I wished I could still be at home where my mom would baby me and keep me isolated from the adult world. But after a while, I got tired of arguing with him. I realized that it was hurting both of us and my relationship with him would be so much better if I just cooperated, admitted I was wrong, accepted his reprimanding as a way to better myself and not as a punishment, break out of the habit in question by changing, and move on. Ever since I stopped arguing with my father our relationship has gotten so much better. He actually started taking me to work with him. We've done so many cool things together at work such as mixing cement, painting over graffiti, and building offices. He said that I am the best worker he ever had and he was impressed that I never complained even when we worked 12 hours a day.

A few months ago I never even would've imagined that being possible but I made it possible. I finally decided to give my father the love and respect that he was deprived of all my life. I got so much more out of love and respect than tension and argument. We got along with each other, we loved each other, we were able to accomplish great feats at work, we were at a point in our relationship that seemed to be unattainable one short year ago but my mom's stoke finally gave him the opportunity to see his son once again.

Not only did my father make this year so special, my stepmother played a great role in it too. She made me feel right at home and that I was also a part of her family alongside my father's. She would call me her son instead of her stepson. At first, I didn't get it, I was easily swayed into believing that she was trying to replace my mother so I didn't see how good she was to me initially. She considered me as one of her children and treated me as such. She did a great job at teaching me and I will always consider her as my parent. While my father handled teaching me proper grooming and cleaning up, my stepmother focused more on my social issues, selfishness, and my lack of respect for other people. My stepmother was always willing to listen to what I had to say so we had many great conversations throughout the day. I would tell her pretty much everything that I did and how I felt throughout the day like I did with my mother.

But what was different, and ultimately better, was that my stepmother would tell me what I did wrong and how I should change my day to day routine to better my life. For example, if my friend was mad at me my mom would say that "he's an idiot" or "he doesn't deserve your friendship", but my stepmom would say "what did you do to make him feel this way" or "you should apologize to him". Instead of blaming my friend for feeling a certain way or saying that he isn't a good person, my stepmom would delve further into the problem and make me take responsibility for my actions and she wasn't afraid to tell me if I was being a total jerk to someone else.

Also if I ever felt lonely and sad at school my mom would just feel bad for me and we'd just be depressed together, but my stepmom would actually give me suggestions to get over my loneliness such as "you should try to talk to people", "don't sit by yourself with your head buried in your phone", "be a part of the human race", and "stop avoiding people". My stepmother always gave me that push that I needed to interact with others. Although I am a very shy person that doesn't mean I'm introverted. In fact, I have had many great conversations with people. I actually really enjoy talking to people. My problem is that I am afraid of how they will judge me and I don't want to embarrass myself so I often sit alone in a room. My stepmother would always yell at me to "come out of hiding" and to interact with family. I needed that push because in the past my mom would just let me sit alone on the phone all of the time and I would miss out on opportunities to tighten bonds with my family.

But thanks to my stepmom I felt proud to be a part of the family. She helped me develop strong bonds with my step-siblings, half-siblings, cousins, and friends of the family because she forced me to interact. Thanks to her I finally realized that spending time with family is so much better than wasting my life away on a cell phone.

Of everything that has happened in this last year, what I am most thankful for is how my father and stepmother helped me combat my depression by just being there for me. I've had suicidal thoughts for a long time. But now that I was concerned about my mom's well being every day, stressed over deciding what college to attend, stressed about actually attending college in less than a year, the normal stressors of senior year of high school, and struggling to do 10 years of growing up in one year, these thoughts became more frequent. I had to take the train to and from school now that my mom couldn't drive me and I thought that I should jump in front of the train. Sometimes I felt that my life wasn't going to get anywhere and that all my problems would cease to exist if I died. I would hold onto a pole or a railing for dear life as the train whooshed by. I was afraid that I would just jump on impulse without thinking about the many reasons why I should live.

My family is the biggest reason why I'm still here today. I know that killing myself would be the worst thing I could ever do to my family. But most importantly is that they made me happy. They gave me more reason to get out of bed in the morning. No matter how bad things got I could always count on them to make me smile whether it was another outing on the boat, a deep conversation, a party, a concert, or a dinner where I could observe how much fun everyone was having just by being there with each other.

Additionally, hope for the future and a better tomorrow kept me going. Although I didn't make any friends in high school and was pretty miserable the whole time I still had hope for college. I feel that I will find a group of friends that I will have unforgettable experiences with. Experiences that I never had with my friends back home because our parents sheltered us our whole lives. I feel like I will meet an incredible girl who I will love endlessly. I feel like I could grow up to be someone who could change people lives and inspire them. Like I changed my childish habits over the past year I know I could lighten up and interact with my peers like I do with my close family, I could be open-minded and optimistic about the future, and I could embrace change and opportunity instead of avoiding it. I have all the potential to change and have a great life but I never used it, I never tried to change.

This past year showed me that I have to change the way I am. I made great progress so far but there's still more to work on. College will be the ultimate test for me. But thanks to my mom's stroke I never would've known how childish I actually was, I never would've known how great life was with my family, and I never would've changed anything about myself since no one ever told me I was wrong. If my mom's stoke didn't happen then I wouldn't be ready for college and I would spend my college days in my room all by myself, on the phone, complaining to my mom about the other kids there or my classes.

But because of this past year, I am kinda looking forward to moving to Villanova tomorrow. It is a great opportunity to further change myself for the better. Although it is very stressful I know that if I find the right group of friends they will love and support me like my family did this past year. And with all the nonsense I put my family through pertaining to college I owe it to them to have a wonderful time, put my negative thoughts aside, and finally enjoy life.