Part 3 Hitting the bottom

Part 3 of a series about a teen’s life growing up in San Diego.


Blanca Paloma, Guest Writer

As my life continued, all the stress and pain that I was dealing with made me become very close minded. I no longer cared about my own feelings or anyone else’s. My aunt took me to therapy to help me get better but it really wasn’t helpful. During the sessions, I didn’t want to participate because I saw no point in it. They expected me to be open but deep down I just couldn’t because I felt isolated. They wanted me to draw things and stick figures.  Also, I really couldn’t open up to a stranger because it was weird. At a point in life, I wanted to just do my own thing and come home whenever I wanted to because the environment was different such as being in a dark place and feeling empty and alone.

One time, my family called the cops because I went missing just because I was influenced with the wrong crowd.  My mindset was always “ [email protected]$# this and [email protected]$# that” because deep down I had no one to depend on or even have a little talk because motivation wasn’t inside me. My friends were the ones who were the most supportive and made me feel welcomed in their homes. My whole family was just so fake and would try to put me down with negativity and calling me a “low life.”  I have a different perspective towards my family because I expected so much from them.  I wanted to improve myself and prove to those who doubted me.