I Must Be a Good Actor Because They Think I'm Really Happy

by Emma
(USA, California)

Okay, so I guess I'll tell you about how it all started:

It was a normal day for everyone else but to me, it was AMAZING. My grandma (Nana) was coming home from the hospital that day. I was eight at the time and in third grade. I raced home, I was SO excited to see her. My grandma recently suffered a heart attack and was coming home (I lived in the same house). We had an awesome time and everyone was soooo happy. But the mirth would soon turn into grief and hurt.

It was night time, I went to check on my cat. I came to the kitchen, grandma sat in a chair looking of distantly. I asked if she was okay. She fell from the chair right in front of me.

Another heart attack. So I did what any eight year old would do, I screamed and ran for my mom. I told her nana fell over, she rushed to the kitchen with everyone else. The paramedics came and soon the phone rang. She didn't make it.

I cried like a baby that day. I cried so much that eventually,I couldn't cry anymore. I blamed everything on myself. I sat in my room for THREE MONTHS. No one had the time to drive me to school, and truthfully; I didn't want to. I knew everyone would just shower me with pity and stuff like that. I didn't want pity, I didn't want pats on the back, I didn't want ANY of it. I just wanted my nana. She was the ONLY PERSON IN MY FAMILY who understood me and made me feel special. And right like that she was taken away. For a while I blamed myself, then I blamed God. I blamed Him for my pain, for my suffering for taking away the only person who understood me.

After that I decided not to let anyone see my pain. I pretended to be happy, overenergentic, and a totally all-around happy person. But I wasn't. My family made everything worse too. My dad then went threw cancer. It was horrible. From when I was eight to now (I'm thirteen now), I cried, visited the hospital, and everything a little third grader shouldn't have to go threw.

PRESENT DAY:
I'm still pretending. Pretending I'm happy and all that junk. I have dreams, goals, and other things that keep me going. But I'm not exactly the happy person everyone thinks. I think sometimes about suicide, I don't want to but I feel like I have nothing to live for. I try to drop hints about how I feel, no one pics them up. I try to get away from my friends and be alone, but alas, their GOOD friends. They see me alone and sad then BAM. They'll do anything to make me happy again.

I used to go to therapy, it didn't help. At first, my mom sent me because of the whole grandma's death. Then again because I'd been talking about death. Now, I'm scared to talk to her about it. I just need help I guess...