9a to 1p
I always wanted a baby brother or sister because being the only child got lonely sometimes. I always sat there in my room, playing with my Barbies, but always wanted someone to play with. Of course I had friends my age, but “they couldn’t live with me,” my mother repeatedly told me after my crying sessions when they left. I wanted someone to mess with and blame things on. If I took the last cookie off the plate, I couldn’t blame anyone. It was clearly me. I mean, I loved being spoiled by both of my parents, but my dad wouldn’t want to sit down and have tea parties with me and my stuffed animals, and my mother got tired of it after an hour or so. So where did that leave me? Alone with Mr. Penguin with his overstuffed white belly, and my favorite pink bear with the bright yellow hat that I can’t remember the name of now.
It was hot. Well maybe it wasn’t, but that’s how I felt. I tried to hide the tears that were about to come down by smiling. That always worked. “Cool,” I said. My dad could see that there was some subliminal message that I wasn’t telling him, but he went along with it. I stared into the baby’s big brown eyes, complemented by long eyelashes I envied. He looked back at me and smiled. “Hi Legend, I’m your big sister.”
It was a regular day after school, but I decided to go over my dads for a little while before I went home. My dad picked me up from Broad & Olney and on the ride to his house, he blasted some good ole hip hip in his oversized truck. When we reached a parking spot, he stopped me.
“Symone, I got a surprise for you.”
“What is it,” I said eagerly.
I wasn’t used to surprises from my dad, better yet ones that followed through. He continued into the house, and I followed behind him. The ten step passage seemed like a flight of five stairs due to my excitement. I was cheesing, thinking my surprise was something nice for me. Money, or a new phone. You know, what most kids my age looked forward to. My face immediately dropped.
My step mom was sitting there with a baby in her arms.
“Who is he?” I asked. It came out harsher than I expected.
“This is Legend, he’s your brother. That’s your surprise.”
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I should yell at him for having ANOTHER kid without me knowing or if I should pretend to be happy. I didn’t know what to do right then and there. I was thinking about his stupid wife for giving birth to the baby without telling me, and him for lying to me. The day my “little brother” was conceived was the very same day my dad cancelled plans with me. Now I could see why.
“Oh,” I finally got out, “how old is he?”
“Three months,” my step mom replied. Then, silence.I hated my dad. Well, I didn’t exactly hate him but I was really upset and hurt. This wasn’t the first time he left our hut to make a village with another family. I had a little sister too who was one years old. I didn’t meet her until after her first birthday and even meeting her wasn’t intentional. This wasn’t the first time he let me down and this wasn’t the first time I was left disappointed. But I couldn’t play the victim. I had to come to terms that I now had a one year old sister and three month old brother that I had to take care of. That I had to be around because it wasn’t their fault that they’re here, and had to make sure that I was a good big sister to look up to. I’ll never forget that feeling.
These types of psychological problems don't usually come out of the blue. Not for me anyway. In 8th i started seeing a therapist because i was hurting myself, and i was depressed. I wasn’t depressed because of any particular reason, it runs in the family. she recommended me to a psychiatrist (Dr. Kalkstein) in her practice and i was put on an antidepressant, and mood stabilizers and antipsychotics.
Today its just me and katie. It’s my last session, and I just finished my paperwork checking me out of the program. “How do you feel?” I'm looking out the window at the Philadelphia downtown sky. “I feel good. I’m still going to see my therapist once a week, and I'm going to an educational group therapy group every tuesday. We’re going to do worksheets and stuff, about treatment. It’s not like group here.” She turns to her desk and pulls out a card, her business card. I smile as she hands it to me, because she’s given me many before, but I’ve lost them all. I put the card in my back pocket and say “Obviously I’m not cured, I'm not even sure that’s possible for anyone who’s ‘this’ kind of sick. But now i'm under control. I am 3 months self harm free and i feel okay.” Katie stands up and hugs me. She pulls apart and holds me by my shoulders, looking at me and smiling. “I'm proud of you.” “I'm proud of me too.”
Relapse is a part of recovery, and if that happens, it happens. The important part is that I'm still here, and I care about what’s going to happen tomorrow. That’s all that really matters.
I was 6 years old, tiny and short. I woke up one morning with a cold but my parents didn’t worry because nothing serious was going on or that’s what I thought. Minutes and hours passed , it was around 7pm from what I have been told my sickness got worst. My fever rose, I was burning like fire and I felt like the sun coming after me, if you touched me. You’ll feel the heat going threw my skin but what I really felt was coldness going threw me. I was freezing to death, cold as ice. My face was pale, like if I was frighten by a ghost. I also had a sore throat, it was bothering me badly, I barely couldn’t eat anything. My parents decided to take me to the hospital. My fever got worse by the minute. In the car, on the way to the hospital, I couldn’t take it no more, I started to burst out crying. I was sore and worried about what is going to happen.
We arrived and I was rushed into the emergency room, I was small so I didn’t understand what was happening. I never realize that I would be so sick that my parents had to rush me to the hands doctors and nurses. Scared and nervous, bursting out crying. They told my parents I had to stay at the hospital for a while because something serious was going on. It was a sickness that I wasn’t allow to go out and if I do, A infection would spread and it will go straight to my blood and cause a serious issue. I didn’t know what it was exactly and i’m still not sure what it was till this day, but all I know it was close to death. My parents never taught something could happen to me this bad. My mother prayed and my father worried. It was about midnight when the doctors left, leaving me in a cold room with my parents, I was exhausted from crying. I was halfway asleep but I was realizing that how could something this bad could happen to me? I started to bring silent tear to my face.
I remember waking up in the morning, realizing the sunlight morning filled up the whole room, I notice I had IV attached to my arm, hearing the beep coming from the weird machine beside the bed. I was scare and started to cry. My dad came up to me and told me “Everything is going to be okay”. The nurse came in with breakfast and took records of me. The nurse told me there was a playroom that I was invited to go later so I won’t be bored. Hours past, my mom finally arrive at the hospital, with a angel bear in her hand and a mcdonalds kids meal, while my dad had to go out. My mom made me feel happy when she arrived. After a while, my mother and I went to the playroom together, I remember I met this girl, the same age as me. She was philippine with long black hair, like mine. She was my hospital buddy back then. We always used to meet up at the playroom and play monopoly board game together with other sick children and a nurse. We also ate macaroni and cheese together and visit each other rooms. I remember telling me her story, she was sick like me. Last time I seen her was when they took her away to surgery, I was in front of the room standing with my mom, she was laying down on the bed being pushed by doctors and nurses, we waved at each other saying goodbye, wishing her a good luck. I soon realized I wasn’t the only one.Hours and days past, I was stuck in the hospital friends and family visited me everyday. I finally released from the hospital on the weekend. We went home on a rainy day, I was glad to be home because I knew I was safe and sound. One thing that I was curious about was wondering what ever happen to my friend from the hospital, Did she make it? Is she okay? Hopefully shes safe. I still wonder still this day and I will never forget her. I am blessed that I am better now and that I am healthy. Till this day I am shock because I was really sick and was going threw a lot of things when I was little and its not normal but now everything is okay.