My First Traumatic Event In My Life And What It Has Shaped Me Into.

I am writing this to I suppose try to understand what happened to me on this specific day. I want to understand why this event changed me and why its effects have lasted so long, It has made me the person I am, it has shaped my beliefs, my behavior, everything about me.

For context, my family history is a very complicated one. My biological mother was and still is a horrible woman. She used to drink while I was around, was high and did drugs when I was around, she’s racist, homophobic, transphobic, she’s a compulsive lier who does nothing but lie to get her way, even if it’s in her own son’s face. She is just a terrible human being, but, when I was little I knew none of this. I only saw her as my mother.

My mother and father had a custody battle over me after my father became clean and tried to be a better person to raise me. He eventually won when I was around five years old and my mother eventually moved from the state. In fact, she traveled across the entire country and I didn’t have any more contact with her. Being so little I didn’t know why she left, and I didn’t understand what was wrong. All I knew is that I couldn’t visit her again. In hindsight this is a good thing, I wish I knew it earlier.

When I was in first grade my great grandfather died. He was the only kind person on my mother’s side of the family. He was nice to me and my father even if everybody else wasn’t. I still recall that day fairly vividly. I stepped out of the bus as I was dropped off to my house. My father always waited at there sidewalk for me, every day he would be there. As I walked around the bus I saw him, and more specifically his face. It was a mixture of worry, sadness, and fear. I immediately could tell something was wrong, and so I asked him. As he walked me to our house he explained what had happened; that my great grandfather had died. It was the same week I was planning to visit him as well.

Being so little, I still didn’t have a strong understanding of death. It wasn’t something I could comprehend at the time. The only thing I could process was that he was gone forever, that I’d never see him again, that I’d never make the visit. I remember being upset for the next three days after that. I’d shy away from people, cry in the corner of my room and in my bed, and just in general feeling miserable.

On the third day, I was taking a bath. I was still thinking about everything that had happened. My mother leaving, my great grandfather dying, all of it. I tried to make sense of it all, I tried to understand it. I convinced myself that it was my fault, that I wasn’t loved and that’s why they left. I blamed myself. I began to cry and have a mental breakdown in the water of my bathtub. As I did, something happened. I stopped crying, in fact, I stopped feeling sad in an instant. I became devoid of emotion in a single second; I didn’t feel a thing. Every thought that had ran through my mind was wiped away, and I was left with nothing. No thoughts, no emotions, no tears.

It was in that moment that I decided to do something. I suppose you could call it impulsive. I decided to commit suicide, right then and there. Being only six or so years old, I didn’t really know how to do it, but I knew about drowning. I dunked my head under the water and I tried to breathe and fill my lungs up. However I instinctively brought my head back up after a small inhale of water. I rose out of the water crying; I felt horrible for what I had just tried to do.

After a small bit of time passed, I stopped crying again. It was in this exact moment that it happened. It was like opening my eyes for the first time. I saw everything clearly for the first time in my life. I understand this world and everything it had to offer. I understood that this world is cruel and unforgiving. I understood that it wasn’t all happy and good. That childish imagination of mine was gone; that view of the world died.

After that day symptoms of my depression, anxiety, and another personality disorder started to appear. I became isolated from the others. My newfound maturity made me an outcast from the other kids, and so I had no friends or anybody to talk to. I was completely alone. My mental health would only worsen from this point on.