"The ages of grief"

by Anonymous Writer, Age 18

1. I learn to walk.

2. I begin picking up on simple social and emotional awareness.

3. I can speak in sentences.

4. My imagination begins to expand as I gain cognitive ability.

5. I watch my mom cry, and this is the first time I remember feeling sadness. She teaches me how to call the police. I’m scared

6. I hold on to my older brother with tears and choke on sobs that try to escape while we listen to adults fight in the next room. I’m scared

7. This is the first birthday party I remember. I had it at an ice cream shop with some of my friends from school.

8. I left all my friends behind while my family and I moved overseas.

9. I watch my older brother battle with anger issues. My parents put him in therapy. I’m scared.

10. I remember watching my father drink a non-alcoholic beverage. I couldn’t get rid of a gut feeling that I was uncomfortable. It didn’t feel right.

11. I said goodbye to my friends and came back to the states to start middle school.

12. I have no friends. I have a hollow family. My mom tells me to protect myself in bad situations because at the end of the day, you only have yourself.

13. I began having nightmares from childhood. I watch my dad’s drinking accumulate. I watch him cry and beg for my forgiveness. I’m sad.

14. He gets better. Then he gets worse again. I am left to process and heal on my own. I’m sad.

15. Everyone moves on, but I am still stuck in the past. I think that something is wrong with me, but I tell myself with some time, I’ll be fine. I’ll be happier once I’m older. I hold resentment towards my parents for healing my brother's trauma, but not mine. I feel hollow. I’m sad.

16. I got my license. I am free from my hollow house and the shadows that hide around corners. I confronted my dad about how childhood was traumatic for me. I grow farther and farther apart from my mom. I grieve the loss of ever having a relationship with my mom.

17. I called the cops on my mom. I go to therapy. I learned that it was never my fault. My parents made their choices, I am not a byproduct of their failures. I don’t have to end up like them.

18. I am grieving the loss of a childhood, while simultaneously navigating the “real world”. Both are scary, but as I got older, I realized what happens to us is 99% of the time out of our control. We can only choose how we move forward. Today, I am living for the little girl inside of me who didn’t get the chance. I will love with an intense passion that is not limited to the love I received as a child. I will forgive through the power that grieving has granted me.

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Congratulations to "The ages of grief" for winning THIRD PLACE in the Written/Audio Category of the 2022 Share Your Story Multimedia Contest!