When I was 14 I turned from a good, if not naÏve, child, and into my parents’ worst nightmare.
I think I’ve always been a bit of a loner and although I had friends in primary school, I was never the most popular and looking back I remember feeling different and lonely most of the time.
Once I started high school I found it even harder to be noticed in the crowd and it didn’t take me long to discover that I had something all the boys wanted and I thought that the way I acted gave me an edge on the other girls and made me popular with the boys.
The problem was, I was never respected, and I was never the girlfriend. I would be the one the boys looked to for a good time before choosing a girlfriend, or going back to their girlfriend.
Upon realising this, I became even more unhappy and lost respect for myself, as everyone else had already done. Tough girls that used to call me a slut and pick on me relentlessly must have picked up a vibe from me and started to invite me out with them.
I started smoking pot, drinking and staying out for days without calling home. I thought my parents were really square and were trying to make my life miserable for making me follow all their rules and curfews.
The more they tried to lay down the law the less I went home. My parents had me drug tested, sent me to therapists and once had me admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a month, I think just for the peace of mind that they knew I would be safe.
Little did they know, the hospital was full of teenagers like me, who introduced me to even more than I already knew. Around the time I was 14, I started using speed, and medications that had the same effect.
A girlfriend a year younger than me had 3 older brothers, one of whom was prescribed a medication I took for fun. Her house to me was heaven. There was drinking, drugs and drag racing every night, and the parents didn’t care, and even joined in.
We’d walk to a service station and buy chips and pies when we wanted to eat, no-one ever had a curfew or had to clean the house, and my friends mum wasn’t too fussed whether we went to school or not. I thought it was the most fantastic place ever.
I stayed there and even told my parents I wanted to move there and that I wanted my friend’s mum to be my guardian. My friend’s mum agreed, which now seems totally unbelievable to me and I’m not even a parent.
In reality, my friend’s house and family were everything that would now disgust me. It stank, was dirty, the people were dirty and disrespectful and they’re probably still living in the same squalor all these years later.
A mediation session was arranged for my friends mum, my mum, dad and myself to meet at my parents house with a counsellor and I went there staunchly determined that I was going to hold my ground and leave there free of my parents and their rules.
For over an hour I put forth my case, my parents put forth their case, and my friend’s mum sat in my parents immaculate home in silence, listening to my parents break down in tears and tell her how they worried whether I was safe, where I was when they had calls from school to say I hadn’t been there and wanting to know what they’d done to deserve this and why hadn’t my friends mum ever contacted them to discuss the fact that their 14 year old daughter had moved into her home without their consent.
The counsellor asked that my friend’s mum leave and I stay for a while to discuss everything further and that the counsellor would drop me back around to my friend’s house when we were done.
When it was just my family and the counsellor, I was asked if I knew that my mum had tried to commit suicide the week before. I hadn’t known. My mum had asked that I not be contacted because I didn’t care. I was sickened. It honestly wasn’t until that moment that I realise that my parents cared about me that much and had been that worried and desperate. I was in shock.
I did get a lift back to my friend’s house. But I was there less than an hour before I packed my bag and said I was going home. I wasn’t even offered a lift, I walked all the way home with my bag and just hugged my mum and dad when I got home.
I have never forgiven myself for that, even 10 years on, I know it’s my fault my mum and dad are separated, and my mum has an addiction to prescription medication she was put on for depression, sleep problems and anxiety.
I was still not a model daughter after that. I left home at 16 after meeting a really dangerous man who introduced me to an even worse lifestyle. The upside to my story is that the dangerous boyfriend led me to meet my now wonderful husband, and together we have worked step by step to build for ourselves what we like to call a normal, respectable life.
In the years since I turned 18, my parents have frequently told me how proud they are of me and how wonderful I’ve turned out. I have a fantastic younger sister who is now 17 and remembers most of the bad times, but all of the good, and says I’ve been a great sister.
My family are probably more relieved than proud, because I know that whatever I may have done right, can never make up for what I put my parents through in those few years. And when my dad says to me, “I can’t wait until you have children so you they can terrorise you”, he may be joking, but a shiver runs down my spine.
If you need support or information about suicide prevention contact Lifeline on 13 11 14 or SANE Helpline on 1800 18 SANE (7263).
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