A/N: This is my truth, with some help Goodman's and Henry. It's my first Next To Normal fic and I hope you like it! =] Reviews are appreciated. xD I DON'T OWN ANYTHING. _
All my life, I have thrown myself into activities; swim team, piano, honor classes, college prep classes, volunteer work, whatever. All the way, dad and you (when you could) drove me to practices, meets, and shows. I enjoyed the activities, though the only one I ever showed sheer talent for was piano. All I wanted was for you to tell me, "Good job, Nat." Dad did everyone once in a while, and I grinned when he did. What I couldn't figure out when I was younger, was: why didn't you?
It would take me a drift into drug and alcohol and the drug scene for you too see. I would have to do something daring and a bit dangerous- not to show you something, but to show you that I was depressed too. Something to show you that I make mistakes.
It was that year, I learned that you care for me, as much as you care for Gabe. I never caused a ruckus, I never upset you, like the whole Gabe situation did; so, you never had a reason to talk to me. I didn't haunt you like Gabe did. You had no reason to tell me otherwise. You found it weird talking to me, because you know what every time you tried, something bad might happen. You were afraid that I would see you as weak all of the time, not sometimes. Somewhere deep in you, I know you know that's not true.
Tell you what, Mom. You're one of the strongest people I know. I KNOW none of my classmates parents are as strong as you are. There's a group of people in the music department, whom I talk to here. One of the girls, Mandy, told me that she doesn't ever want to go home again, because she doesn't want to see her mother depressed. I don't understand that. That used to be me. I want to spend as much time with you as you can; I know I might regret it when I get there, but I know I won't regret it later.
I know that the pain you have cause me, has made me create some of my best music. Thank you for that. Though I'm not glad that bad things have to happened to you. Just to be clear on that.
I love you, Mom. I want you to know that you don't have to be perfect, for you to be my mom. So you've done some pretty odd things and you're apparently depressed. I think I might be, too. But I've learned from you, and I know that I have you and Dad and Henry and maybe even these new friends here at Yale behind me a hundred- percent.
The Gabe situation is not always a good situation, but Gabe is a gift. He graced you with a husband who love- even if you did elope; and he didn't leave you without some happy stories. I used have so much antagonist against Gabe- he often took you from me. Your attention was on him, the Superboy, though he did few things to earn your gratitude. But he also has his triumphs- and he's always worth something in your heart. I wish that I got to see him in a more positive light when I was young, because then I might have thought more of him, then. It's hard to love someone you've seen hurting someone you love- especially when you've never known him outside of your memories. These new stories that shine him in a positive light have helped a lot. He's worth a lot more to me now, because of that. I know your mother's joy now more than ever, and for that, I am extremely glad.
Someday, I hope that you'll tell me more about it. I think this space is good for you- and good for me. I haven't heard from you in over six months, except for through the grapevine of dad, and gram, and gramps. They say you're doing a bit better- but that you understand that this is your last string- and you understand that.
I wish that you be well- but I also understand that sometimes one can only expect "good days". Growing up with a depressive family member was always interesting. I remember being twelve and calling Dad home from some office party because you were crying and screaming- he didn't mind. I remember calling you home, because I got into this huge fight with Dad and you defended me. I don't think any less of Dad because of it, and because I know he loves me. I'll never talk about it, but I thought I'd let you know.
Though you two don't always show it, like what used to seem all of my classmates parents do, I know you mean well. One can't be picky about what love they receive or tiny good things that happen- I've learned about that.
I swore that I would never have a family as dysfunctional as ours. But then I met Henry. I'm terrified that I might end up like you. I'm terrified that I might end up raging mad- I've seem the effects through substances- and I don't want that. If I ever have kids, I don't want them to take advantage of the "little good things". I want them to relish the amazing times even more when them when they come. That's something I've learned from living with a depressive parent.
I'm sorry that it took me so long to realize that you care. A teenager often has great antagonist, I hear. That's what the school doctor said- he said I'm super anxious- do I want something to take? He doesn't understand. I may still be a kid, but I know what pills can do- and no thank thank you. Not unless I'm older, get a lot worse, and become negligent to my family. I have no intentions of doing that, and I realize now you had no intentions of doing that. You can blame your illness as much as a cancer patient can blame theirs. I know that not every little spat was due to you depression, even though the doctors liked to treat them as such. Not all headaches are due to illness, either. Sometimes, it's honestly just too much stress for an ordinary person to handle. When that happens, sometimes care is hard to show, and I now understand that.
After I realized that you care for me but never showed it because I never caused a ruckus, I see that you have the same love for me, that you have for Gabe. I simply had to see myself in a different light. I am now able to see that. All of my loathing seems silly now, I know. Please forgive me, though I may never tell you this story.
I am thankful for you and dad and the brother I never knew- I honestly wish I could know him like you do. Through everyone, I am slowly learning about him. It helps a lot.
Happy Thanksgiving,
Natalie