It was all my fault. I unbuckled him and then like a fool, I turned my back and was distracted. He fell out of my SUV. He landed and I freaked out. He was sobbing. I checked him all over and he seemed to be fine. But he was not. It was all my fault. I ignored his pain. I had checked over and over but he seemed okay. I was wrong. He broke his arm. It was all my fault for not being careful. They hate me now. I failed my job. I did not keep him safe. I did not make sure he was okay. I hurt him. I neglected his needs. I ignored the signs. I hurt him. I should have stayed by his side and been the one sitting next to his father waiting for the results. It is not okay. How will they ever trust me again. I am supposed to be a stress relief instead. Every time they think of their child with me, they will worry. I failed. It is my fault. I do not deserve to feel good. It is not okay.
Today I turned 20. Well technically I don’t turn twenty until 3 something in the morning and it’s only midnight but shhhh.
My plans for this milestone? My celebration of finally leaving my “teen” years behind? I work. I get up. I get dressed and I work with a quick break for lunch. My one celebration was going to be a family dinner, which I cannot attend because I’m picking up my brother from the airport. Instead of enjoying my day and feeling like a princess, I am stressed and unhappy. I am moving back home and feeling like a failure because I cannot afford rent. I am painting a classroom which has taken more time than I thought and leaves me so exhausted at night that I still don’t regain my energy when I wake up. My health is deteriorating slowly but surely as usual when I don’t get any down time. I know I’m only 20 but I’m not where I imagined I would be. I have no relationship, I have no potentional success. All I have is my work. Do not get my wrong. I love my job but I thought I would have a bit more in it at this point. I cry tonight. For no other reason than pitying myself. Tomorrow I will wake up, I will put on a smile and I will act like it doesn’t kill me to not feel special on my special day. From the mouth of a truly mean person in regards to me working on my birthday, ” you’ll [I’ll] be fine.”
I graduated high school at 17 with a good GPA and several acceptance letters from colleges and their honors programs. I finally decided on a college near my home town (10 mins from my mothers house). Move in day was not as anxiety filled as I thought it would be because I wanted to prove to my mother that I didn’t need her and could handle moving practically on my own. There were volunteers helping me and before I knew it all my things were in my dorm room and after a few minutes my mother left. I was struggling with the need to have her be a movie mom (crying and not wanting to leave) or the need to have my things kept private and keep her hands off my stuff and her bossy, negative attitude away from my new place. It wasn’t until my roommates arrived and their parents were there and helping them and taking them out to eat that I started to feel upset. Thinking back on it now, I know that I was being silly because my mother lived closer than any of my roommates families but still I felt lonely. I cried myself to sleep for several nights when I first moved in because I felt so alone. I won’t bore you with the details but just know I made it through my classes with a bit of sucking up, a bit of flirting and a lot of late nights. I put in the minimum effort and got some good results but a lot of stress. I have always loved school but only because I was teachers pet and that didn’t change in college. I made it through my classes by the grace of God, however, there were consequences. I developed a weakened immune system because of stress and depression even though I was working out and eating healthy. I spent almost a full 12 months with cases of strep throat and infections, countless antibiotics and steroids, and numerous doctors visits. When the year school year was finally over, I was exhausted. I had a decent GPA but my motivation and interest were diminished. I loved going to class but I had never developed the discipline required to sit down and do work in a timely manner. When I finally realized I wouldn’t be able to afford to go back to college without bending over backwards for financial aid, I decided to take a semester off. It wasn’t until I had a full schedule doing jobs that I loved that I realized how miserable college had made me. I am willing to sacrifice my education for the sake of happiness. I think some people are truly not meant to be stressed and working towards a 9-5 job with benefits in a large company (I was studying business because I wanted to wear business suits). Also if you only pick your major because of the idea of wanting to wear business suits then maybe that isn’t your passion. It has been more than a year but I still constantly get harassed and lectured about going back to college. I may go back one day but it will be on my own terms, something I want to do and not something I have to do. I want to enjoy my life and I love working full-time.