All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Clinically Destined
I was a happy boy, until about October or November of 8th grade my “paternal grandma” died. When my dad was about 12 years old his dad died to a heart attack, they had a neighbor whose name was Bob Mitchell so everyone called him Mitch. Mitch basically became my dad’s father figure. They went hunting, fishing, and Mitch taught my dad to use a ham radio. His wife’s name was Barb and she’s the one who died to Lou Gehrig's disease. I remember at the funeral my “cousin,” Mitch, going down the middle aisle of the church carrying his grandmother’s ashes. That day something snapped inside me.
I think it was about two to five months later when Mitch himself died. That was the saddest funeral I ever went to. There were so many people there that I hadn’t met before, but I felt this weird connection to them. My dad was crying as I had never seen him cry before. Afterwards, there was lunch at the building across the street. One of the big things I remember is that almost no one ate any food because everyone was too sad. That day the thing inside me that had snapped now broke. As if it was a branch held on by that little bit of bark but the branch just got too heavy and I just accepted that I would die one day.
Even more recently my uncle, Greg, died of a heart attack while driving. After that happened I learned that my family has a higher risk of heart attack than most people. The funeral was sad but not nearly as sad as Mitch’s funeral.
My great uncle just recently died because he had depression so he didn’t take his medication. I also just learned that my maternal grandmother, who is still alive, had breast cancer before chemotherapy was either invented or it was too expensive so she just had an amputation. I also learned that some people on my mom’s side of the family also have had depression which means that both sides of my family have had depression.
Each one of these things broke me down a little more. So if I put this all together I figure out that I have ADHD, a pretty good chance for clinical depression, a genetic chance for cancer, and a higher risk for a heart attack or heart problems. These are the things that led me to accept my fate that I will probably die young and should live my life as best I can to try to squeeze the most juice I can out of this life lemon. I guess now I’m broken just like most other people in this world. It probably doesn’t help that I have bacon for breakfast every morning either.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.