Wake up, class, eat, sleep. Repeat.
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This is my life now.
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It's my new routine. Which from the outside looking in doesn't quite seem odd or different from any other college kid. Most kids go to school, get their degree, then get out. That isn't who I am, sorry I mean who I was. Now I guess you can say I am painfully average in the way that my daily routine on weekdays consists of class and on weekends rotting in bed until the next monday.
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Things weren't always like this for me. I wasn't always this sluggish and lifeless. I had a pretty eventful life. A social life. I went to the gym 5 times a week. Even had a girlfriend. I had goals. Things just don't seem to last forever. Those feelings I had changed, and so did my motivation to do quite literally anything.
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These days this average routine of eat, class, repeat are painful. I just try to make it to the end of the day just to wake up and do it all over again. This isn't to sound depressing. I'm not depressed, I can't be. I have everything anyone could ever want and if I don't have it I could get it. I've always had my way and some say it's shallow of me to feel this way but it's true. My parents never said no to me growing up and created the man I am today. I can't blame them, they had no guidance or instructional manual on how to raise a kid. They did what they thought was right and honestly I turned out pretty okay.
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My dad makes all the money. My mom was a clinical psychiatrist but retired early to take care of me because she didn't believe in babysitters. She was an amazing mother and probably the best wife my dad will ever have.
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She committed suicide 6 months ago.
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I feel like I died with her. Figuratively, ofcourse.
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She was the only parent that I talked to because my dad worked so much, he was never home. I never built a true connection with my father. His employees always described him as unsympathetic and indifferent because he wouldn't allow anyone to get close to him, not even me. By no means was he a horrible father, he just was never there. Physically and emotionally. Sometimes I wonder how my mom ever fell in love with a man like him but she saw a different side to him. She always was compassionate and warm. I think she projected her kindness on others and always assumed there was a good side to every bad person.
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You may be wondering, why did my mom kill herself? I wonder that myself sometimes. I fear that we didn't do enough to keep her happy, that the life she built wasn't enough or too much? She never seemed to be severely depressed. She had moments where she'd seem to disassociate from a situation but I always thought it was just her being deep in thought. She was a doctor after all. A shrink. She knew all about wellness and how to stay happy and even taught me to look onto the brighter side of things when I was sad. How could she tell me this but not be able to convince herself?
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I'm not angry at my dad, I know it wasn't his fault but sometimes I can't stand to look at him. He hasn't changed a bit since she left. Still leaving to work early and coming back late. Still here, but still absent.
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I've learned how to hide my emotions very well. I guess I got that from my mother. I won't talk about how I feel and won't let anyone in. I won't downplay my emotional state, I know it's fucked but to ignore it is better than to feel everything all at once.
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I heard the front door shut pulling me from my wave of thoughts. I know it's my dad because who else would it be. I'll stay up here, I don't want to hear what bullshit he has to say today. Although him coming home four hours early is concerning, it isn't concerning enough for me to leave the comfort of my king size bed.
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"Thomas! Come down here, there's someone I'd like you to meet."
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I heavily sighed before putting sweats on and dragging my feet down the stairs. I didn't bother to look presentable because I couldn't care less about what rando was in my house.
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My dad stood next to the pillar that stood tall by the front entrance. Next to him there was a plain looking woman with a pencil skirt and a dress shirt. My dad was brushing her back a little too low while smiling and laughing at whatever she just said.
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"Thomas! This is Glenda. Glenda this is my son. Glenda and I work together at the firm." He smiled hopingly. I just nodded and ignored her hand reaching out for me to shake it. She brushed it off awkwardly wiping her hand on her skirt.
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"Nice to meet you Tommy!"
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"Thomas."
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"He's not much of a talker." My dad laughed nervously scratching his neck.
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"Well, we're planning on having a gathering with top companies. They'll be here within a couple hours. I want you to look presentable and behave." This was all he said before walking off into the dinning area with Glenda.
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Yeah, not happening.
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I walked back upstairs and jumped back into bed. I grabbed my laptop and did one assignment before shutting it and turning the TV on.
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I attended online school after my mom passed because I thought it'd be easier to get work done. I was barely showing up to class and couldn't bring myself to complete projects and meet deadlines. It helped a little bit but not much. I still neglected most of my work and opted for doing more enjoyable things like sleeping.
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I leaned on the wall while holding the remote to the TV to switch from chanel to chanel. I couldn't find anything interesting on so just stuck with the regular, cartoons.
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My door flung open and my head shot up.
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"Thomas get up and get ready the guests are here."
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He waited for my response but I had none. What was the point? I don't know these people.
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"Please, for the love of God. Shower and put something other than sweatpants on." He shook his head and slammed the door shut. I sat for a few minutes before deciding I'd stop being hard headed and listen.
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I ran the shower and put out some semi decent clothing. Jeans and a plain white shirt. He better accept this.
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As I went downstairs I saw at least 100 people in black ties and cocktail dresses. Maybe I am a little underdressed.
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"Thomas! So glad you finally came down. These are some people I'd like you to meet. Janice, Edwin, and Jaclyn, this is my son Thomas."
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"Aw well I thought when he said you were grown you'd be about my age! You're just a boy. How old are you son?"
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"22."
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"That's how old my daughter is! I'll let her know I've found someone your age. You're a good looking young man too, you look just like your mother."
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Those words echoed in my ear as I stood pretending to be flattered by her empty compliment. I smiled politely excusing myself from the group to go pretend to do something.
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I walked over to the people in the dining area and grabbed a cocktail from one of the waiters my dad hired for the event. I emptied the glass and put it on a random table.
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My dad signaled me to come over to him for the millionth time of the night and as the party was dying down a bit I had hope that this would be the last time. I reluctantly gathered my strength to be social one last time and approached him while a older lady was by his side.
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"Hello, you must be Thomas."
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I give her a nod and a smile. My go-to when I'm checked out of social events.
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"Your father was just telling me about your loss. I'm sorry to hear this. I know dealing with grief can be hard." I nodded again ready to tune out the conversation and focus on the waiter pouring drinks behind her.
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"I lost my parent too. Last year. It was my step father but he was like a real father for me. He stepped in when my mom really needed someone. A drunk driver hit him and I haven't been able to drink since then." I tune in to what she's saying as she speaks carefully. I could tell she was genuine about what she was speaking about. Unlike most of the apologetic approaches I get when I tell people I lost my mom, she seemed sincere.
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"How did you move on?" I finally spoke. Probably my first sentence all day.
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"You don't ever really move on. You find ways to cope. Life gets easier but it never really just goes away." She paused and I waited for her to continue.
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"I started seeing a therapist. Which as cliche as it sounds, it really does help to talk to someone."
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She reached into the small bag hanging on her shoulder and pulled out a piece of paper. It was a card with a name of a psychologist and a phone number under it. I reached over to grab it and she placed her hand on mine.
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"I know you can get the best therapist money can buy and she isn't the top therapist in the country but she helped me through tough times. She might be able to help you too." She winked before letting go of the card and I slipped it into my jeans pocket.
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"It was a pleasure meeting your son Mr. Keen. I appreciate your hospitality but I must be going now."
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"It was a great pleasure Mrs. Ronley."
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Once she left, most of everyone left along with her. Shortly after, it was only My dad and I. The waiters collected glasses around the recreation room and dining area.
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"I'd say that was a success, wouldn't you?"
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I nodded and smiled. My dad sighed at my dry response as he was probably expecting a little more from me. "You doing alright?" He asked me putting a hand on my shoulder. He's never asked me anything like this so it kind of threw me off. I responded with another nod and raked my hair back with my fingers.
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"I'm going to bed." I told him. He looked defeated in his efforts to get me to open up to him and accepted it. "Goodnight then."
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