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I was only ten years old in a family of two children when it was evident that their relationship had turned into a sour grape and was beyond repair. At the time, I could hardly tell what was happening with between as I was asked out of the room every time their conversations took a turn. Although I was young, the memories I have are illustrative of a happy family that we were before all went south. Our parents were efficient providers and we never lacked in any way. I remember walks in the park on Sunday afternoons, as my father pushed my sister on the stroller, an indication of a happy model family.
At the age of ten, one does not have an abiding opinion on with regard to family relations, and this seemed to be rubbed in my face by the fact that my parents did not consider telling me what was happening. All that happened was arguments followed by the diminishing presence of my father. It was years later that I understood the full effect of divorce and wish that the system protected me better to avoid the hurt I went through. A shared parenting plan was implemented, but I spent most of my time with mother due to my tender age until she filed and was granted sole custody.
It is for this reason that I lacked a father figure to help me deal with my teenage issues and did not know anyone to turn to for the problems I had. As a result, I kept to myself and avoided all confrontation however necessary they should be. I grew dejected and weary by the day, pulling away from society as my emotions raged within me. I was angry that my parents placed a burden on me to choose who I interacted with among them. I was not ready for the sudden change of lifestyle and I resulted to hating them for the choices they made.
Violent outbursts initiated by the existence of happy families existed around me became norm since I failed to understand how this came to be. I lost friend following tantrums and to make matters worse, boys picked on me, calling names and teasing me at every opportunity. Feelings of rejection, loneliness, and dejection characterised the period following my parents’ divorce. My grades flopped and not a week passed with a visit to the principal’s office. I recall cutting classes, hiding in empty halls and wishing that the nightmare would end.
Ignorance seemed to have saved me from the harm I craved as revenge over society. I remember contemplating the death of all smiling faces around me and I all that lacked was the means to implement. Great emotional turmoil ruled my social life and sought refuge in activities that I deemed to relief my condition. Great emotional turmoil ruled my social life and sought refuge in activities that I deemed to relief my condition, which saw locked doors to avoid mother. In my view, my parents showed no compassion in their decision to part ways and thus she had no right to ‘pretend’ she cared.
However, she extended her concerns to my school where after a full report on my performance and behaviour, it was recommended that I attend counselling sessions. Following sessions with the school’s counsellor and a contracted therapist, all evidence pointed to back to the divorce. I had trouble coping with the effects of the separation, which explains my behaviour. The healing process proved long, but effective although I held nothing except remorse for the events
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