Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
My mom and I had pulled through some rough times together and it made us tighter. I just figured that was how it always would be. Of course, it’s different for a kid of eleven than it is for a widowed mother trying to provide for her kid. “I’m gonna be your new daddy.” “Bullshit. You’re just gonna be the asshole that comes between me and my mom,” I thought to myself. I was thirteen when my mom remarried. A difficult age under any circumstance. I had handled things pretty well, all things considered, after that drunk driver took the life of my dad and older brother. At least I thought I had. But when Mom remarried, I kind of went off the deep end. I guess it dredged back up a lot of shit for me. Now my mom had someone new. What about me? I went into a real dark place. My mom tried what she could, but insurance didn’t provide much coverage for mental health. A few visits with an overworked specialist who only had time to prescribe drugs was the best she could do, so I became a science experiment. Prozac was always there, but the therapist continually tried other drugs in combination until they decided my behavior was normal. Who knew that all my problems were actually related to a congenital deficiency of Prozac and other strong pharmaceuticals? It helped somewhat. I no longer threw big tantrums and my grades returned to normal. I still had little interest in any organized activities at school. I guess I was a bit of a loner. Since bahçeşehir escort the PE coaches in junior school pressured everyone into some sort of athletics, I chose track. The PE coaches didn’t really consider track and field to be a real sport; it was more of a pastime between football season and spring football seasons. But I was uninterested in team sports and running, especially cross country, allowed me to think. Practice consisted mostly of running on my own. There was very little else to it, especially in junior school. My mom worried about me and Dan, my step dad, hated me. I was just the excess baggage that came along with his new wife. Fortunately, he was out of town on business trips about half the time. I spent most of my time at home shut up in my room anyway. When I woke up in the morning I was lethargic until I took my meds. It was all I could do to force myself to eat something before the drugs kicked in. Once they did, I wouldn’t have any appetite until they wore off, late in the evening. Once the drugs kicked in fully, I was able to concentrate enough on my classes to get by. After school I ran. Any homework I didn’t finish during study hall had to be completed as soon as I got home, before the meds started wearing off. The meds started wearing off around seven or so. At that point I would become lethargic, then ravenously hungry, then totally exhausted. kayaşehir escort After a huge supper I would crash hard, sometimes barely able to make it to my room. My life became a routine, dictated by my meds. Any deviation from my routine, any unexpected interference caused me to miss my evening meal or become agitated. Dan learned not to include me in evening plans if he wanted to take mom out to dinner or to the movies. My mom was coping with her loss much better, but she also had been prescribed anti-depressants since the wreck. Dan couldn’t understand why she still needed to take them, when she had him to ease the pain. He resented her need to take the pills, assuming it meant she still ached for her dead husband. Truth is, she still did feel the pain of loss every day, but she did a good job of being a dutiful wife and mother, never talking about her own needs. By the time I joined the varsity track team, in my sophomore year, I was one of the top cross country runners my district. I was skinny as a rail, but I could run. My dosage of meds had stabilized and I had adapted fairly well. Then, without warning, another change came. I didn’t do well with change in those days. My mother became pregnant with Dan’s child. At sixteen, I was going to become a big brother. My mother was over forty. I couldn’t believe it. It was as though my mother had gone all the başakşehir escort way to Dan’s side, and against me. As her stomach grew, it embarrassed me to see her. She had always been thin, and now she was becoming rounded, with soft curves where she had once been angular. She stopped taking her anti-depressants, not wanting to expose the baby to them as long as she was pregnant or breast feeding, even though her doctor said it would be okay. She didn’t want to take the chance. It became difficult for her to work without her meds and with the added dose of hormones that pregnancy caused. Finally, she stopped working and stayed at home. She sometimes didn’t even find the energy to dress, spending the whole day in her bathrobe, her belly jutting out. I avoided the baby totally. My mother seemed to understand. We didn’t say a lot to each other, but she always understood me. She was the only person who seemed to be okay with who I was. Everybody else seemed to expect more, and they seemed disappointed; Dan, my therapist, the people at school. I didn’t hate the baby; I just didn’t see it as having anything to do with me or Mom. I came home one day after practice and showered, then did my homework. It was almost seven by the time I was finished, and I was starting to become tired. Dan was out of town on a trip, and I hadn’t seen my mom since I got home, so I went to her bedroom and looked in. She was lying in bed with the baby, still in her nightgown. The baby was lying over her arm, sucking at her breast. My mother looked totally drained. I started to turn and leave, but she saw me and said, “Hello, sweetie. Come on in here.” “Aw, it’s all right, I was just checking to see where you were.” “Please. Come on in. I want to see you.” I came in and stood awkwardly, looking at the baby.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32