It’s December 12th, the day after my birthday. I wake up at 4am to yelling and my heart is beating faster than a horse on steroids. I climb down my bed so fast that I almost trip on my way down and hug my mother who is sleeping underneath me. My mother lets go of me and I can still hear the arguing ringing in my head now. Those moments went by like the speed of butterfly wings flapping. It all became a blur to a point where I still can’t remember though it was 9 months ago. Next thing I knew, my mother’s things were packed and so were mine and I lived in Queens for a week. Imagine waking up at 5am to a bed that isn’t yours and waking up in a home that just isn’t yours. Waiting for the M train at 6am, I had to hold in the tears because regardless…show more content… Imagine overthinking, hyperventilating and holding in the tears every day on that A train because there’s nothing to distract yourself? Multiply those 3 hours by 6, that’s a total of 18 hours a day. Dealing with it was like a recurring nightmare: waking up to cry, having my throat dryer than the desert and having to breathe at a calm pace to avoid an anxiety attack. I’d try to talk to friends like nothing was going on, communicate with my parents like I wasn’t freaking out on the inside, keep up my grades, and smile like I didn’t have a care in the world. Though I tried so hard, my reality hit every time I entered that train. Strangers giving me the face of sympathy and concern, I wondered why they were all looking my way: my eyes turned really red and my face turned pale. I’d just read a book on my iPad to pretend I didn’t notice their faces. While reading all I thought about was why I couldn’t accept it and being in constant…show more content… I finally decided to speak up and not keep everything bottled up inside because it is just not healthy for anyone. My friends understood and they helped make things a little easier by lending a shoulder to cry on. I decided to speak to my parents, ironically our relationship grew from what we had before. The crying and the nightmares stopped dramatically too, for the first time in months I didn’t wake up every other hour. My grades drastically improved going from a C average to almost an A average. For the first time since my birthday, my smile finally seemed genuine rather than painting it on with makeup. The weather got seemingly warmer and it began feeling the same for me internally. It’s September again, the leaves are beginning to slowly fall off the trees again then slowly winter approaches. In three months, it will make a year from the incident. I know that this won’t be the last battle in my ongoing war, but this battle has been won. Regardless of the time it took and the amount of hurt my parents and I endured, we managed to come out on the brighter side. Acceptance is my life lesson that I will carry on throughout my life and try in helping others that are going through their own battles. I do not know when the next hard time will come or how long it will take to recover from it. All I do know is that if I have to walk, run or even drag myself