Get up, adjust your crown, and keep going

Drug abuse, drinking, and stealing were only a small fraction of problems I had in my teenage years.

Don’t get me wrong; I grew up in the most loving and caring family I could ever ask for; but my parents only adopted me when I was ten years old. Prior to that, my home was an orphanage and a few families who temporarily took me in. Nothing traumatising happened to me. However, the feeling of not being loved, wanted, or needed was deeply engraved into my soul.

My parents gave their very best to gain my trust, but that inner darkness in combination with puberty led to very difficult times.

It became so bad that I eventually escaped home and moved in with my boyfriend who was definitely not a good influence on my fragile status.

The only time I forced myself to show up was at my grandmother’s birthday party. My grandparents were incredibly special to me and they always had my back even when I was almost entirely out of touch with them.

I got fairly drunk with my boyfriend prior to the party and everyone had the urge of providing comfort when they saw my condition. All that compassion I didn’t ask for made me feel nauseous and I ran to the upstairs bathroom to throw up. On my way back, I passed my grandmother’s office. I sneaked in, opened a few drawers of the desk and eventually found what I was looking for; some cash. I quickly stuffed the bills in my pocket and when I turned around, my grandfather was standing right in front of me. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the sadness on his face. Without a word, I placed the money back in the drawer and slowly passed my grandfather who made space for me to exit the office. He placed his hand on my shoulder and handed me some money from his wallet. I whispered “Please don’t tell anybody. I have to go” as I hastily walked out.

When I got back to my boyfriend’s place, I started to cry. All he cared about was the $50 for more drugs. At this moment I realised that I had my priorities set all wrong. Drowning in self-pity and neglecting the people who actually cared about me was definitely a mistake. I could no longer hurt the people I loved. It was no problem for me to stop drinking and doing drugs, I just had to manage to keep it that way.

Once I felt that my condition was decent enough, I left my boyfriend and asked my parents if I could move back in. My mom and dad had tears in their eyes when I showed up on their doorstep. We had to ease back into a routine, but with a lot of patience and discipline, we managed to establish what you could call a “happy family”. There were still those dark, empty moments for me, but I made better decisions on how to handle them and where to seek help.

I wasn’t quite ready to actually face my grandparents yet, but we talked on the phone quite often and they expressed how excited they were to see me again.

I graduated from high school late due to the time I had missed; so I decided to go straight to college and stay at my parents’ house for the time being. It was only then when I was ready to see my grandparents again. The reunion was everything I could have asked for. Everybody was so proud of me and I knew that I owed everything to my family. I will never forget that day and the happiness we all shared. We were sitting on my grandparents beautiful patio until late in the night and life seemed perfect at that moment.

A week later when I woke up in the morning, I was suddenly struck by this darkness again. So strong that I could hardly handle it. I ran down the stairs to ask my parents for help, but before I even entered the living room, I saw my mom standing in the hallway with a pale face, and tears in her eyes.

“That was grandpa. Grandma died this morning, sweetheart. They were out for a walk and she suffered a stroke. They couldn’t do anything to save her life at the hospital.” I don’t remember much about that moment other than being caught by my mom when I collapsed to the floor.

When my dad came home from work, they helped me pull myself together and go see grandpa. He seemed so helpless when he was sitting on the couch, trying to have a conversation with us.

While my parents helped him sort out some things for the weeks to come, I was so overwhelmed with sadness that I needed a minute to myself. I made my way upstairs and ended up in the room where my life started to change for the better. I sat down on my grandma's desk and gently stroked my fingers across the dark wood. I opened the same drawer where I found the cash a few years ago. This time, I found a little black book in there. On the first page, I found my name written in my grandma’s beautiful penmanship. This notebook was dedicated to me. With tears in my eyes I started reading.

“My beautiful girl. I thought you would return to this desk and particularly to this drawer one day. Your grandpa told me about the moment he found you here, desperate for some cash. Don’t worry, I am the only person he shared this with and I forgave you the moment I heard about it.

We started a savings account for you when you joined our family and now that you graduated from college is the perfect time for you to use it. There should be about $20,000 waiting for you.

Your grandpa and I found so much inspiration and confidence through travelling. Maybe you can use this money for some travelling too, before you start working. It is yours; you decide what you would like to do with it. Whatever you decide, please take this notebook as your journal. I love you so much.”

I sat on her desk, sobbing, feeling her there with me, saving me in a dark moment.

I used the money to take my grandpa and my parents on some memorable trips and also went on some by myself.

Most importantly, I now go to the orphanage on a regular basis to take the children on small excursions and to show them that they are loved no matter where they are.