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This might just be the epitome of a relatable post. As a young teenager, I struggled with suicidal thoughts and attempts on a huge scale. I attempted it 3 times and thought about it constantly. The relationship with either set of my parents was not good at all and, in the truest sense, I was alone. My parents totally misidentified my struggle to stay alive as being “disrespectful”. Jeez, how many times have you guys had that word thrown at you when that’s not even close to what was really going on? I was in a paralyzed state of anxiety when I forgot to do the dishes, but my parents just thought I was lazy and that I never listened to them so they would lecture or yell at me so I would “get the point”, which we all knew made everything that I was feeling 100% worse. The problem in all of this is that my parents were ignorant and I was silent, but those go hand-in-hand. I was silent because they were ignorant. Like, how could they not see that depression and anxiety were holding me hostage, I was their daughter after all. What about the mother’s instinct thing? Shouldn’t she be able to tell something was wrong? I don’t know. Honestly, these situations are the worst of the worst. I am going to work my ass off to be understanding to and OBSERVANT of my children. I’m not going to force them to tell me things, but I hope we have an open enough relationship that they want to tell me on their own. If not, then I hope I can pay attention enough to know when not to get upset about their messy room, their dirty laundry, their falling grades, and the stacked up dishes. I can hire a housekeeper, I can’t replace my kids after they’re gone. I wish more parents could see the big picture like this. 💜

Love,

Kenzy

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