Growing up isn't the easiest thing in the world, for anyone. It is also the hardest thing I have to do. Because I want to be an independent teenager and I have to learn to step back and let other people do stuff for me too. The problem is, I started this when I was nine. Others start "growing up" once they get to middle school. It's different for me. It is different because I have to move forward from a hospital bed and move on. Growing up is hard because in school, I'm not really sure how to fit in, I don’t like to talk about my issues with anyone but my family, and I complain a lot.
I don't fit in. School is school but often, I just go through the motions. I try to be the same person who I was before the accident. My wheelchair can sometimes be a wall. Even though some kids say hi to me and I smile back, sometimes the wheelchair prevents any further conversation. It just gets in the way physically, like one of those bulky transformer action figures. Also, talking is such a physical act with kids. If I'm talking to one of my friends, I block four lockers just to talk to them. Sometimes though I choose not to talk to friends, I can be antisocial. I should try and be more social. I really should invite more friends over to my house and do things with them;
activities or something. I should invite more friends to eat lunch with me. I should hang out with friends more during break. Maybe I could decorate my wheelchair with different kinds of paint. (I paint on Wednesday afternoons. It’s awesome.)
Growing up is also hard for me because I don’t like to talk about my issues with anyone but my family. My family is an unbiased audience. I talk about things with my 10-year old sister, or my parents, who are old, but not with kids at school. I hear kids at school talking about their problems and I wish I could too. Their problems are “so-and-so didn’t invite me to hang out” when my problems are “my ventilator is out of battery”. I don’t want to talk to them about my “problems” because mine are not so easy to fix. But, I should confide in my friends and tell them how I am feeling; my ventilator or my argument with my little sister. My friends would care and listen because they do care about me.
Growing up can also be hard for me because I complain A LOT. I’m 13. I complain. Sometimes I really act like a little kid when I’m supposed to be acting mature. Any teenager does this, but me, I feel like I’m held to a different standard. I’m supposed to be respectful and mature no matter what. I need to not complain as much. I should vent together my friends and then I’d feel much better. Really, I just shouldn’t complain. As if.
In the end, growing up is hard for everybody, not just me. I guess I am a bit melodramatic. But, what kid isn’t. Just ask my brother.