My parents had an open marriage ( I googled it to know what it meant, of course how can a 11 year old know that). I barely saw them happy together. I was too small to understand this complicated situation because I always grew up watching ideal parenting by the movies that I aspire to. Whenever I saw them with a new man or a woman, my blood used to run cold with shyness and oppression.
I was unable to understand these new uncles and aunts or should I call them moms and dads and I hated all of them. I used to greet them with respect when I was in my juvenile age but now they are just one more reason for my unhappiness. I would feel terrible for their children if they were practicing open marriage but the problem would be more if they are committed, they are practicing adultery that no children would love to even imagine about. They used to give me something fancy, got me chocolates, clothes, money. Yeah, every new person was a new gift shop to me. I found the hint of this truth from my annoying neighbors, imagine how complex that would go in my heart. From that day, I didn’t know whether they would understand me or not because I was part of them (one-half and other half), wouldn’t they be fed up with me one day like they were with each other? I was too small even to speak a word to about any of these.
After the onset of my puberty, I started making friends circle and spent time with them because I didn’t want to come back to reality- a home, that was just a physical structure without a heart and a soul - house of wanderers. Whenever my parents got into arguments, I used to lock myself by the door and in my heart too, turned on the music and tried heavily to move my heavy heart and wretched soul to achieve a state that was impossible- a place for tranquility. I never shared a big sister relationship with my mother as kids of my age would. Many times my friends bullied me, I felt terribly low everyday but I didn’t have courage to utter a word because I didn’t know if she would hate me or dislike because she disliked my father and I was his part.
After 14, I was admitted to the hostel. Maybe they wanted to have more privacy and less responsibility. They sent me to a hostel but it wasn’t a hostel for me, it was like living behind the bars. No one accompanied me in the canteen, classroom or even washroom and at midnight, I would feel more lonely than just physical loneliness. Whenever life was really getting harsh on me, I tried calling my parents, and they had numerous excuses ranging from going out being out of valley o out of reach call and they used to call me whenever they pitied me or whenever they had idle time and used to end every phone call saying, ‘’I LOVE YOU'’, I don’t know if my parents have to say it if they don’t mean it.
I felt more like an orphan, or even more than me, it felt I was abandoned for absolutely no reason. Yet I was chosen to live, why? Wouldn’t abortion be a better option then making a child mentally ill since young age. Slowly, I have started getting migraine headaches. In addition to that, I have insomnia and many undiagnosed mental illnesses probably. I hardly pass my annual exams, with all these situations of childhood hardships. Imagine a situation where everyone is connected, I am connected with their genes, and my parents are connected by me but not yet a complete family, what can be more tragic than this. I have tried to kill myself, often but never been courageous enough. Courage is not in my genes, just like my mother wasn’t courageous enough to hold on to marriage nor my dad who was able to make an effort to instability in relation. More than anything in my these years I have been terribly missing something a lot- a happy genuine family.