My names Hadley and I have a story to tell I just don't know it yet. My life has been hard well at least I think it has. Most people's definition of a hard life is more like someone's parents died, battling drug addiction, or being abused. But none of those things is what makes my life hard. And this is the story of my life.
When I was eight or nine my parents got divorced. My sister Jenna was going through it with me but we never talked about it or ever wanted to. It was hard the friends that I had suddenly weren't my friends anymore and the things I loved like sports and other things where gone. Then I started getting depressed I didn't want to talk to my mom or have anything to do with the world. I started not to eat and had thoughts about what other people's lives would be without me . I didn't want to be alive. But then my mom found a wonderful guy named Jack and he had a adopted son named Colt who was only 2 at the time. I think Colts the one that saved me. Having someone that's amazing and happy all the time just made me think about my life.
Then one of the worst parts of my life happened. I was diagnosed with ADHD. And you might think oh that's not a big deal but it actually is. I had struggled in school and my regular life not being able to focus on one thing at a time. And the day my mom told me she was going to get me tested to see if I was I thought she wanted there to be something wrong with me and I got so upset about it. Getting tested for adhd was the weirdest thing I've ever done. It just made me feel more bad about myself. But then I realized I wasn't the only one with this mental illness and that medication could help me.
Then there's school. Most people are popular or not but then there's me half and half. I do have a lot of friends and a lot of people like my personality. But I hate school no matter what I do I can't seem to be smart. My mom tells me I'm smart and I can do it all I have to do is try. But that's what she doesn't understand I do try and I try hard to make my grades stay up. But she doesn't understand.
Me and my dad don't have the best relationship. My mom seems to think I hate him but that's not true if she'd listen to me I could tell her. I hate the house that my father lives in it's the house I've lived in since I was a baby and all the good happy memories I've had in that house just remind me of things I used to have and I don't have those happy memories any more like when my mom started a food fight with mashed potatoes or when my late dog rylie jumped out of our car and sprinted to are family friends pond at their camp. The happy memories are gone and I have to live with knowing that those memories will never happen again.
But new memories will come and bad memories will too but I'm ready for what's to come and the future seems bright but broken memories will still be with me.
