Paula Jewl Dulce is a senior at St. Mary's and just wrote me a very vulnerable story of her life.
Including the death of her mom when she was 12.
I'm hoping by sharing it she will get some support from people who know what she's going through.
Heres what she wrote:
Growing up, I thought that my dad was dead.
Whenever I asked my mom about my dad, she would simply state that he was dead and leave it at that.
Then, when I was around ten years old, my mom, a breast cancer survivor, told me that her cancer had come back.
She had been going to her doctor for back pain, and because her pain was dismissed as simply just pain, her cancer was caught too late, and had already reached stage 4.
It has spread to her liver and bones, and by the age of twelve I saw my mother deteriorate.
My siblings and I all helped take care of my mom.
I still remember vividly helping my sister change her diapers and dumping the urine out of her commode.
I remember seeing the bed sores and I remember the ambulance coming to our house to rush my mom to the ER.
I remember coming to the ICU every day after school.
I still remember vividly the day my mom passed away.
I was picked up at school by my aunt, and when I asked my sister why my aunt was coming to pick me up, she couldn't tell me without crying during her sentence.
So, I hung up because I knew.
It wasn't until my mom was dying that I had resented my dad for whatever had happened.
I hated that I knew nothing about him except the fact that he had abandoned my family and me.
Then, when my mom died, I lost my best friend and my rock.
I didn't want to get close to anyone else at that point, and in turn created an awful relationship with my siblings and friends.
I was scared that someone I opened myself up to would abandon me, too.
My sophomore year of college, I met a boy and I made the mistake of letting him in.
I told him everything about myself.
We dated for two years.
I honestly thought that I had found the love of my life.
I put my happiness into my mom, my best friend, and she passed away.
I put my happiness into this boy, and he broke up with me less than a month ago for no other reason other than the fact that he fell out of love with me.
The breakup completely blindsided me.
I'm honestly really struggling to even write this because I am angry and ashamed of where I am now.
I'm in my Senior year of college, and I am finally realizing that I have abandonment issues.
I honestly feel so broken, because everyone that I loved wholeheartedly has ended up hurting me, intentional or not.
So, while my story does not have a happy ending, I'm trying to tell myself that it has an ending of hope.
Though I may not believe this at the moment, I know that someday I will.
Right now, I'm really hurt, broken, and depressed.
I'm hoping that the next time I write to you I'll be able to say that I'm stronger, happier, and hopeful again.
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