Thursday, May 17, 2012

Me, Myself, and I

Author's Note: When originally writing this essay, I planned on it being a analysis on myself. Now, reading it after it's finished, I think it might be more of a Cause & Effect essay. I'm not really sure though. Either way, everything in this essay is completely true, and was written from the heart.

When I was little, one day my parents rearranged the furniture in my bedroom. They thought it would be a good idea to move my bed on to a different wall or something, I don't really know. That night, I stayed up all night and cried, because I was upset that my room had changed. It changed! I never have liked change, never. But just recently, I have figured out why I don't like it. I have been through a lot in my life, and before I didn't think it affected me that much. Now I realize, those traumatic incidents in my past led me to the way I am now, they led me to hating change.

I was never much of a child. At age 6, I had to deal with the pressures of my uncle being murdered. I know, in the end -- that is just a death. But to me, that death brought on so many more obstacles. You should know, that when my uncle died, my cousin and my aunt were staying with us, just to make sure that they weren't too scared from recent issues. So…how exactly did that change me? Before they moved in, I know this sounds rude, but I had a perfect life.  My brother, dad, mom, and I.  We had our pet dog, and lived in a fairly big house in a safe city. Not to mention, we were comfortable in our financial standings, and never really got in much trouble. We had the stereotypical "perfect" life. Then they moved in. I had to change with the fact that now, frankly I wasn't the center of attention in my family.  I would have to adapt to the fact that there would be two more people in our life, our house, they would be in what was ours. And that didn’t appeal to me. Not one bit.

No, having new people come into my life -- and, well,  stay there -- is not the only reason I do not like change. Have you ever had to adapt to something that you didn't want to, then finally once you got used to it, have it change again? That is the story of my life. Once I had gotten used to having my aunt and my cousin live with us, things changed again.  My aunt left, but this time, she left empty handed, letting go of her grip on her daughter -- leaving my cousin there with me. Once again, I had to become accustomed to these changes. I don't think I like change because I know that the second I get used to something, it'll switch up on me again, leaving me confused, worried, and scared.

With new changes already put in place, but never set in stone -- you never know what to expect. So when I got the news that we were going to adopt my cousin, I was mad.  This might come at a little bit of a shock, but I never really wanted a sister. In fact, I was perfectly content with having a cousin. But no, apparently it would be "best for the sake of the family" if we adopted her. Personally, the reason I suspect that I don’t really like change is because I had such a negative outlook on this particular event, and I knew there was nothing I could do about it. Whether I liked it or not, I was going to have a sister, and whether I liked it or not, it was going to happen.

Having such a bad feeling on the things that were changing around me, I categorized everything that was happening in my life as "bad."  It wasn't just the death, moving in, and adopting that was bad -- it was the change that was bad. I was going to have to get used to setting five dinner plates at the table, I was going to have to get used to buying five movie tickets when going to see a movie, I would have to get used to having five people in my family. Things were changing around me, and there was no way of getting out of it, I had to deal with it. I was so scared of the way things could turn out, that I just covered up the change, pretending like it wasn’t there. However, after a while, it started creeping up out of that blanket, and continued to play with my life.

As for me today, I still don’t like change. It doesn’t matter what it is either, it could be even positive change, or change with no affect, but I still don't like it. Like recently, in school, we switched classes for the semester. To most normal people, this wouldn't matter at all -- and if it did, it would be good. Not to me though. Still traumatized from the changing events from previous in my life, I can't fathom of ever thinking change could be a good thing. I'm not saying I like it (being this way) and I'm not saying it's fun, I'm just saying it's me. And I don’t think I'll ever "overcome" my fear of it.

Now when I think about when my parents wanted to rearrange the furniture in my room, I realize why it was such a big deal to me. It wasn't because I was scared of monsters hiding in a different place, or forgetting where I put my toys. But rather because I was worried that things in my life would continue to change, and the choices that were to be made would be out of my hands. Change is something I am going to have to live with. I am not going to try to avoid it, I will just, for now, try to deal with it.

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