This I Believe

ashley - louisville, Kentucky
Entered on November 28, 2006
Age Group: Under 18

I believe in Independence

Do you feel alone in the world? You could call out for help but no one would come? No matter how much you begged and pleaded for help, no one thought you were big enough for their attention.

When I tell people I’d rather work or be by myself than have any help, they look at me like I have problems. Do you want to know the reason why? I’d rather be alone because I know that if I’m alone I don’t have to worry about if the other person is putting as much effort or time into it as I am.

I have taught myself that being independent is better than having help. Why? Well let me start you off at the beginning and you might understand this a little bit better.

When I was eleven years old, both of my parents got strung out on drugs. My dad was never home. My mom was home, but she always stayed in bed, except for when she and dad were fighting or when they went out to get ore drugs. Now, you’re probably thinking “How does this make her independent”? Well while my parents where out doing their thing I was in side doing the role as Mother, Father, and Older sister. I figured until my parents felt better, I would help out. Little did I know it would be for six years? Six years of my childhood went to waste because I had to raise my siblings.

When things got real bad, like when dad left us, I called on family members to help me. They turned me down. “You’re not my responsibility” they would say. I would think “this isn’t my responsibility either, but I’m doing this” I figured then that it was us on our own. I tried to have mom call for help. I thought maybe if she calls them they’ll see we really needed help. But mom made me really see, she didn’t want us to have any help. I was on my own.

I decided after five years it was all or nothing. I gave up my whole life for my sister and brother. I quit school so during the day I could work to buy food and pay bills. But $200 every two weeks wasn’t cutting it. In March, I finally called out for help. I called a CPS worker. I told her to take us. I had no other choice. I was failing at taking care of us. We weren’t surviving. I was lost

It has been about 9 months later and I still think I would do well on my own. I have a boyfriend, but no matter how much he tries to help me, it ends up I do it on my own. Maybe one day I’ll get out of it. But right now it’s just who I am. And I’m happy this way.