Anxiety. Apathy. Hopelessness. All terms as a child I could never comprehend, how can you feel hopeless? I thought. How can someone give up on keeping the fire of life burning? The idea intrigued me and made me want to understand how someone gets to a point like that. How naive of me.

April 29, 2017. My sixth-grade year. One week after my birthday. My 16-year-old brother, Tyler, acting cantankerous, tells my mother that he wants to move in with his father. My mother, knowing the destruction he would have on Tyler, denies the request. Screaming breaks out, not very unusual for my household. But something is different this time; with my troubled family history, I learned how to read emotions through someone’s eyes. Tyler’s eyes told me that he isn’t enraged like he usually is; his eyes showed profound sadness. Tensions rise while Tyler bolts to the kitchen; my concerned mother follows. The treacherous sight my mother must’ve seen, her beloved son, grabbing a sharp kitchen knife and putting it on his wrist. 

Oh, the screams and pleads that followed quaked my body and left me numb. The words that spewed from his mouth disgusted me, “Nobody loves me, mother, you do not love me” and “Life is not worth living anymore.” I had to comfort my crying little sister despite the swelling emotions inside me, but since she was there, I could not show weakness, I could not show pain, all I was able to mutter was, “Everything is going to be okay, ” even I didn’t believe that. Once my mother calmed him down, she called me in and said I must watch him while she grabbed something for him. The image I saw is so indented into my head; it’s like a screensaver. My brother standing there, bright red as a tomato. 

Looking past his tears, I tried to read his eyes, and emotions I once strived to see were right in front of me. Anxiety, body shaking. Apathy, careless stare. Hopelessness, head held down in defeat. How I hoped to never see a scene like that again.

The next three years of my life were all a direct reaction to that one night. I followed in Tyler’s footsteps as I always do. The emotions I once was intrigued by, which I saw, were now a factor in my life. I no longer ran my life; I was plagued. For my family’s sake, I always tried to contain these emotions. 

There was nothing I hated more than being a burden. Yet, more fights between my parents and I accrued, I fell back on school work, and even hockey became just another straining activity. Anxiety, my fear of myself. Apathy, lack of care for the world and my life. Hopelessness, not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. How I hoped to stop feeling the unnecessary pain.

I was able to overcome these emotions by relinquishing a restriction I held on myself, holding back my feelings. Through therapy and family support I was able to get better without any medication. As I moved on and past this disturbing moment, I realized that something had changed in me. I no longer was offended when something rude was said. I no longer have the urge to cry at something not going my way. I no longer feared holding all responsibility because I was afraid of mistakes. 

Perhaps it is just maturity, but I think differently. Though I despised that scene I saw and the outcome initially, I became stronger mentally and emotionally through overcoming and learning from my experience. I don’t feel cursed; I don’t feel like what happened to me was the end of the world anymore because Tyler gave me an insight into what the world is really like. And I just have to overcome it.