Happiness comes with Pain

Intro:

My essay is about life lessons that I learned. In which that happiness comes with pain. You can’t have one without the other. And that you need bad experiences to change who you are and give you a good outlook on life;aka to be wiser. I am proud of being able to express myself in this paper because I have a hard time opening up. Also, my poetic descriptions are fantastic! I am very proud of this piece and I hope others enjoy it too.

Essay:

Happiness comes with Pain

“Left, right, up, down. No matter what direction you are looking, you are stuck Mackenzie.” These thoughts that haunt me from mind began at five years old, and I only started talking at age 3. “Little kids don’t understand or interpret much,” adults throughout my life would say, but I disagree on a deeper level.
Everybody liked to treat me as child that is incapable of hurt and feelings. Put me in a room full of children, they would walk by making me unnoticed. The adults would just sit there not knowing the inside screaming in my head. My head taunts me every time: “why won’t they talk to you; I see people sitting next to each other laughing and talking. Mackenzie you can’t do that, you are all alone.” Play with me, sit next to me, show me your smile! Black starts to cloud my vision, and my heart sinks like it is going to my feet. I have to hold it in, I have to hold it in, that’s what is expected of me, and I don’t want to cause others worry. So I am the child that is incapable of being hurt. Elementary school arrives, and I took a turn for the worse that I was not expecting for. I woke up every morning, brushed my teeth, threw my clothes on, got in my car with my mom and on we went. Every morning when my mom dropped me off I was embarrassed with soft kisses on my chipmunk cheeks, and received squeezes from her large, warming body. I’d walk into school, expecting to start the day off good. “Hey fatty, did you take a bit out of the door thinking it was a chocolate bar, a part’s missing.” Their it comes again. The Darkness, The pain, The regret. With teary eyes and a held tongue, I pick myself up with my head tilted down and bangs falling on my eyelids, I walk out of the classroom into the bathroom. “You have to hold it in, you can’t show them.” it whispers into my anxiety ridden soul. Looking steadily in the mirror, I examined my eyes, watching the salty pain running down my face onto my lip. The taste reminds me that I can feel, and why i am in hell. That continued like a tribal ritual for the sun coming up. Except there was no sun in my life, just whispers in the dark hardening my strength to speak. My lips were sown with the invisible threats of hurt and insult I was reminded with. I was not seen, therefore I would just be the air that you breathed;Unnoticed.Watching every move they made, listening to every sound they made. They do not see me, but I see them. I am the child that is still not capable of being hurt. Middle school I ignored all their comments, but I still thought I was worthless. I then met the best friend love of my life. Everytime she hugged me with warm moist hands around my back, and her big solid chest for me to find comfort in, it did. I imagine her like this blissful heaven like glow in my mind. She grabs my hand and pulled me out of the abyss of my screaming darkness, and in a loving embrace I cry like a cat who was picked up from the box of abandonment. She was my nice new home, where I could stretch out my legs and take a nap on a comfy couch. The voices in my head that wished for me to let go, and lose my mind with loneliness, have stopped. Sarah helped me, but my mind could not erase the saddest that was engraved in my memory and current vision. When I hug my mother, I cling onto her like a child, because I missed my childhood, it was taken away from me. She could not understand the struggle with my classmates. I want to show the situation right in front of her, but I cant burden the broken. They’ll listen through one ear and out the other. I am the broken child who is hurt, someone please notice me. Later as the year went on, I looked more closely at time with myself. I realized that only I can make peace with myself. I spent my time staring into the wide gaping sky, and gasping over the beauty I see in the flowers that cry droplets. The the bright yellow sun flowers that a husband gives his wife to tell her that she is the shine to his life. A baby’s laughs from a mother spending precious moments with her baby at the park. Or even the the burning sensation that I feel on my back and face from the sun shining on my Vitamin D deprived skin. Proving that I belong in this place called life, and I am alive. Even if a person hasn’t noticed me, life has accepted my existence. The sun will continue to beat down on my snow like skin, and tears stream down my thankful face, representing that happiness comes with pain. As long as I have these memories , I keep a lesson within me, that the darkness cannot escape inside of me, but my empty box will be refilled with the life that shines through the breaking walls around my heart. I am a girl who can feel hurt.