Fine?
What is the real definition of fine?
Is fine saying that one is good and don't worry or that one is hurting but does not know how to speak up?
For me it was the latter, when I fell into a deep depression and was not eating what I knew I needed to, I hid it. Not only was I ashamed but I was confused. Growing up I had always been a princess in my own little perfect world. I did not know that there were people in the world that wanted to hurt others. Yes, I do remember 9/11, yes I did know that there were “bad” people, but I thought I was protected from them. I thought I would never have encountered pain as much as I did. I never thought I would look behind me everywhere I went. I do not believe any child thinks about being hurt. But I know too well that the world is not perfect in any sense of the word.
I grew up in the world of school shootings, terror attacks, and other mass killings. I do not remember Columbine, but I do remember having to do lockdown drills all the time. My world has changed so much, I remember when I could wave to my grandparents as the plane took off, now you have hour-long lines and have to get patted down if your clothes have rhinestones on it.(I speak from experience)
I went to school in a suburban area. My classmates primarily belonged to the same demographic. I thought nothing would happen.
In my junior year of high school, I was blessed that I was able to come home for lunch and take a nap and then go back to school. I thought I was so awesome! I had all the freedom a high schooler could want. I went home cooked lunch watched Hoda and Kathie Lee and some of the news before I went back for history. One day in December I was watching like ambush makeover, and the breaking news interfered right before the reveal. Sandy Hook. 26 dead. Mostly young children. Innocence stolen.
A year later my innocence was stolen in the same matter. My heart broke. I was a senior, we were the big brothers and sisters of the school and although we were hurting. We had to be there for our brothers and sisters younger than us. We had to be fine. I cried every day for months I had countless panic attacks. But I had to be fine, for the underclassmen, my classmates, family, and friends. When the immense pain and grief overtook the most beautiful time of year, nothing matters to me than family. That year my older brother came home from college, even though I was happy to see him when we embraced each other at the airport we both cried. My brother was the first sign of “normal.” Christmas was a feeling that I cannot put a word to. My classmate passed only five days ago. Her family was torn apart.They hurt even more than all of us. They acted as if they were fine.
"Wherever my story takes me, however dark and difficult the theme, there is always some hope and redemption, not because readers like happy endings, but because I am an optimist at heart. I know the sun will rise in the morning, that there is a light at the end of every tunnel."-Michael Morpurgo
Is fine saying that one is good and don't worry or that one is hurting but does not know how to speak up?
For me it was the latter, when I fell into a deep depression and was not eating what I knew I needed to, I hid it. Not only was I ashamed but I was confused. Growing up I had always been a princess in my own little perfect world. I did not know that there were people in the world that wanted to hurt others. Yes, I do remember 9/11, yes I did know that there were “bad” people, but I thought I was protected from them. I thought I would never have encountered pain as much as I did. I never thought I would look behind me everywhere I went. I do not believe any child thinks about being hurt. But I know too well that the world is not perfect in any sense of the word.
I grew up in the world of school shootings, terror attacks, and other mass killings. I do not remember Columbine, but I do remember having to do lockdown drills all the time. My world has changed so much, I remember when I could wave to my grandparents as the plane took off, now you have hour-long lines and have to get patted down if your clothes have rhinestones on it.(I speak from experience)
I went to school in a suburban area. My classmates primarily belonged to the same demographic. I thought nothing would happen.
In my junior year of high school, I was blessed that I was able to come home for lunch and take a nap and then go back to school. I thought I was so awesome! I had all the freedom a high schooler could want. I went home cooked lunch watched Hoda and Kathie Lee and some of the news before I went back for history. One day in December I was watching like ambush makeover, and the breaking news interfered right before the reveal. Sandy Hook. 26 dead. Mostly young children. Innocence stolen.
A year later my innocence was stolen in the same matter. My heart broke. I was a senior, we were the big brothers and sisters of the school and although we were hurting. We had to be there for our brothers and sisters younger than us. We had to be fine. I cried every day for months I had countless panic attacks. But I had to be fine, for the underclassmen, my classmates, family, and friends. When the immense pain and grief overtook the most beautiful time of year, nothing matters to me than family. That year my older brother came home from college, even though I was happy to see him when we embraced each other at the airport we both cried. My brother was the first sign of “normal.” Christmas was a feeling that I cannot put a word to. My classmate passed only five days ago. Her family was torn apart.They hurt even more than all of us. They acted as if they were fine.
After the shooting I never had therapy. I buried myself in work and school. I soon became my job. If I had gotten therapy for everything that year maybe I would not be here sharing my story. After months of treatment and years of therapy, I have taken my mask off. I let myself feel the pain.
As for my career, I do work with kids. I want to teach those who get the cold shoulder. But that's not who I am. Because everything was taken away from me I now know the importance of balance. Yes I work, yes I go to school, but more importantly, I am someone who is loved and loves.
"Wherever my story takes me, however dark and difficult the theme, there is always some hope and redemption, not because readers like happy endings, but because I am an optimist at heart. I know the sun will rise in the morning, that there is a light at the end of every tunnel."-Michael Morpurgo
Melissa
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