This I Believe

Lindsay - Tipton, Indiana
Entered on October 12, 2006
Age Group: Under 18
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I believe in the power of positive thought.

I turned seventeen this year, exactly twenty-two days after my father moved out. Even now, two months later, my mind is reeling. My parents seemed happy, happier than the parents of most of my friends. I never saw it coming. The whole thing has taught me that the world turns and things change, and I can’t stop it, but even through the worst of times I’ve found that something good can come of it.

In the days after Dad left, I was numb. I had no idea what to think, do, or whom to turn to. I couldn’t go to my parents, I couldn’t go to my friends, I only trusted myself, so I began to think.

Negative thoughts went through my head with alarming speed; everything I thought about got blurred by my anger, my sadness or my hurt. I wouldn’t cry myself to sleep, but cry waking up, because I knew I had to get out of bed and pretend to be okay.

I am the oldest of four, the youngest being only a toddler and I had to be strong for them, so I would cry in the shower, climb out, and along with the tap I would turn off my tears. But my heart was ripped open and raw, and my thoughts plummeted downward.

I had some moments where I just wanted to quit, give up. My thoughts being negative just made my life seem to turn for the worst. I would focus so much on horrible things; that they would occur. I would picture in my mind at night my little brother and sisters crying. I would picture my boyfriend angry, screaming at me. I saw my mom and dad screaming at each other, and myself, stuck in the middle. And little by little what I thought so much about I began to notice.

Now, I know my thinking about these occurrences didn’t physically make them happen, but it was me being so sure everything was going wrong, that it did. My littlest sister, Mallery, would come in my room to cry herself to sleep, and there was nothing I could do. My brother closed himself off and I would occasionally see silent tears falling down his cheeks, when he didn’t know anyone was watching. My mom and dad still can’t speak without yelling, or threatening to call their lawyers, but I know that I can’t let them hurt me anymore.

I keep my thoughts positive, and things have gotten better. By not focusing on the bad, but picturing what I want in life, I’ve started to find it. My boyfriend and I are happier than ever, and just last night Mallery came into my room and was telling me stories, not a tear in sight. I wish more than anything that my parents had been able to work out their problems, but I know that isn’t possible. I wish the best for both of them and I’m picturing good outcomes, and hopefully those will come soon.