Saturday, July 21, 2012

16 & Fustrated

Insomnia, restlessness and energy drinks have left me ravaging through my black box of childhood school report cards and too many award certificates, of "Best Helper," to count. I never realized my mother saved these small coins along with her boxes of her kids' childhood memories on printed pharmacy photographs. I've seen these 1st…2nd…3rd…5th…7th…12th…college freshman transcripts and memories before, but I always find something new- or rediscovered like a faded dream. I reorganize some things. I am glad my mother did save all this- junk- it might be my path to Obama's small, obsolete box of a neoamerican redefinition. Maybe. I find this printed letter I typed for my mother. I remember all that strong loyalty & resentment I had towards her. I giggle to myself- to see what passive hold has on me… all that pain and suicidal urges are almost forgotten. At the end, I'm gayer than I could've wanted…more desired that I thought possible… I don't care of what I think of it, let alone her. I now love her, more. In this letter, I wrote 10 sentiments- a real pandora box of emotion. She had asked me to make this list… odd for her to ask, maybe she picked up the therapeutic practice off someone else. I listed how I miss my sister, how I was so dedicated to my studies- I knew at that time, for better or worse, it was my only calculated escape. Retrospect say worst. What sticks out was when I listed at number seven, "I am frustrated about my legal status." Wow. At 16. I was already stressing about what would years later bring me down back to a prolonged depression- even reattempts of suicide. I hadn't realized my angst started at my best years. I look back. I felt jovial & surrounded by loved ones and friendship outside my home; considering I hardly returned home, I was mostly AllRight. Afterwards, every day on my own would make life more frustrating. I'm a plateau but I know there's more pain ahead. I laugh reading all those little love notes by my elementary teachers calling me a "good citizen." They might've been right, I'm still a good boy.

Seems crazy, but I now know I was not alone, there were others. Still are.

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