It'd been a week. Life hadn't improved. I cancelled my party. I had my world on hold. I lost a chunk of me: my friends and my dad. I wanted to shut everyone out. My mother had gone ballistic on Alana and I lately over the slightest things. Mother went to the doctor to find out she had anger issues. My mother and my fights occurred frequently while Alana just sat in her room. As life went on, I found myself away from people more until, finally, I was hardly around at all. My mom had made me a doctors appointment noticing my "strange", antisocial behavior.
I then returned from the doctor to learn I had severe depression. One night, my mother knocked on my door only to tell me my friend, Davey, had come to see me. Did I know a Davey? It was no other than the one boy from my old "click" who hadn't turned on me the night of decorating. He talked to me about counseling; Davey seemed to think I needed a little help. I was glad Davey had come. It was nice to talk to someone, instead of scream, spat, and holler for once.
After my mind bickered back and forth, I decided I'd give counseling a try. Counseling didn't go as I expected. It went...well. I almost walked out, but my counselor, Mr. Burgundy, explained before I was out, "People with the best lives are the people who fall the hardest." The thought of my spiraling life as falling was intriguing. I asked him to go into depth for me about what he meant. He explained, "In everyone's life they will 'fall' into a dark place in their life; those of us who fall the hardest have the hardest time picking ourselves up." He believed I was one of those people. I began to marvel how he got all this insightfulness and started wondering how Mr. Burgundy fell.
After my 5th counseling session, my mother was waiting for me in the lobby to go to Alana's dance recital. She began complaining about how my session went over time. After I got in the drivers seat of the car, I finally yelled back at her telling, her it wasn't a big deal. I was speeding, and it was very dreary outside. The first rain this year; it was coming down hard. My mother and I continued to yell at each other. Then, my mom broke down crying; I glanced at her. In that second, my life flashed before my eyes as I lost control of the car, and we slid into a tree.
Bits and pieces... All of my vision came in bits and pieces; I saw red and broken glass and my unconscious mother. I began yelling at her to wake up. Screaming for her to wake up! I got no response, and everything was fuzzy. I remember feeling alone and then... Darkness.
Later, I awoke with a raging headache and the sound of crying, Alana's crying. The words came out of my mouth before I thought about anything, "WHERE'S MY MOTHER?" Alana responded to me between sobs telling me she was alright, but the doctor told her we were lucky to be alive. Maybe, the car accident was my fault. Maybe, I had been too selfish to think of someone else. Maybe, I needed a change for the better. It was then I realized that I was not proud of the person I had become. All of these thoughts pounded against my head while the doctor examined my little injuries. After a few days, my mother and I were released from the hospital. We were both happy to know we were alive. Alana refused to talk to either of us until we promised to stop the fighting. Alana was so shaken by her thought of being alone without her family, she barely left our sides. While I promised for Alana, I also promised to change for myself, to start a life I was proud of. The first thing I did was call Davey, because, maybe, he would help my new lifestyle. He supported me 100%.
