"My Character Flaw" By Brandon O.

*Reader discretion is advised, the contents of the following piece may contain some topics that are sensitive to certain demographics* Preface

 

It is safe to say that everyone at some point in their lives has dealt with some sort of insecurity. They are either brought into fruition from an external source or they could stem from something internal. An insecurity usually arises from a mental conflict which can impel someone to behave a certain way to mask their vulnerable aspect. The way an individual overcomes their vulnerability is easier said than done, they can choose to affirm their own value and embrace the aspect of themselves they feel precarious about or by getting insight from another person but, what if they do not know how or where to begin? Depending on how the individual perceives their insecurity, that person can begin to create tremendous mental conflict within themselves by internalizing their issue which can lead to very serious and dark consequences later on in their life. Due to this and because of quarantine’s monotony, I will be sharing with you my journey of how I discovered and overcame my biggest insecurity in hopes that you can apply this to yourself or help someone else with their susceptibility.

Child Hood

Since the dawn of my memory, I remember recurring events where I could hear yelling, screaming, glass breaking, and door slamming. At a young age I never paid much attention to the explosion of sound that would emerge from my parents room. My sister would always tell me to focus on what cartoon or late night kid show was playing on our television.These episodes would occur once a month and would last deep into the night but the thought effects were long term. You see it wasn't until I was the age of ten that I was able to witness one of the occurrences with my eyes instead of just listening. It was clear to me now what had been unraveling behind the closed door, my mother and my father had been arguing but now the audio had visuals and I could see where some of the sounds I heard had been coming from. The crashing sounds came from the objects my father would hurl across the room and against the wall, the shaking of the walls were a result of my fathers aggressive demeanor when pacing throughout the room, and the screams were the vocalizations of the horror and sadness inside my mother. All these descriptions were the motifs found in each of these incidents. Still at the age of ten, I had no idea why these instances even occurred, in my naive and innocent mind I believed this was normal and that this was how everyone’s family functioned. Little did I know that this was far from “normal” and even less I knew how this would affect me in the years to come. During the time these events were taking place, I always showed signs of aggression and a short temper, I would get into physical fights with my friends over trivial matters and destroy my objects such as toys and remotes whenever I became upset. My behavior to me was not alarming as I could not fathom the ramifications of acting in such a rude and hostile manner. Unbeknown to me this was my character flaw and one that would impact the next years of my life immensely.

Adolescence

During my adolescence I began to understand more about my family's situation and myself. Not only did I now know understand what it meant when my parents said that they didnt have “papers” -this means my parents (at the time) were undocumented immigrants- but I understood the severity and the complexity of the situation. Not only was my mother constantly living with the fear of being deported but also the fear of losing my sister and I and it was for these two reasons that she could not get the court or the police involved with the domestic disputes. One I comprehended this I began to feel apathetic about my entire life. I slowly began to see how dysfunctional my family was but how gruesome and devastating these living conditions were on my mothers mental health. Up until my eighth grade year my mom had been dealing with my father and our unstable financial situation. It was after one particularly eventful night of the same screaming and yelling accompanied by physical aggression that drove my mother to her breaking point. I had witnessed this pinnacle moment, I saw my mother fall down our staircase and still to this day I remember vividly seeing her body fall down like a rag doll. It was this scene that drove me to my own limit of tolerating these episodes of tears and disappointment. I remember seeing my father walking down the stairs to my mom and I stood for a moment filled with contempt until my anger got the best of me and I hasten down the stairs to defend my mother from his insatiable rage. I yelled at him to stay away from her with all my ability and threatened to call the police and upon hearing that threat he vanished. Finally the devil that once tormented us had fled from our lives but the damage had been done. From the day I was conceived I was doomed to inherit his devilish mannerisms but now I was even more damned. I

had cultivated the same anger inside me he had and from this point on it was evident I was following a path that would lead me to be an identical copy of my father.

 

Years of Reflection

Throughout my first year of high school I had struggled with adapting to the change at home and going to school. My fathers absence was still fresh to my life but quickly after we had seen how his absence would affect my home life. My mother began to take on two jobs in order to support my sister and I and would not be willing to sell the house and move to more affordable housing. Being the selfless person she was, she intended on keeping her two jobs in order for us to grow up in a good neighborhood and so I would attend an excellent school. This choice was devastating on her and I both, I had to witness her sleep deprive getting up early to take me to school then to leave immediately for her first job and all I could think about is how awful and upset I was that this was my reality. All my life my parents had been always working and I received very little discipline and correction from them. Thankfully my sister was there for my impressionable years to make sure I never went off the rails and stayed on a decent path. This also contributed to my lack of understanding and knowledge of my explosive behavior. It wasn't until the end of my freshman year that I began to see the trends in my behavior that were parallel to that of my fathers behavior. Whenever I would stress about our financial situation I would yell out loud and sometimes even break things. I soon realized that I was becoming just like my father and I had it not been for the declination in my friendships and relationships with my mother and sister I would have never known that I needed to change. I strived hard to breathe before I acted or said anything when I became upset but this was not enough. School didn't help

with stress and neither did seeing my mother work herself to death. Instead of breaking things and taking my anger out on inanimate objects, I began to take it out on myself because in my mind I had figured that if I were to hurt or break anything it should be me so that no one has to suffer because my ill-tempered mind. I would punch my self and even soemties cut myself and this soon became increasingly unhealhty as it even escalated to me contemplating my existence. In my head I was the product of angel and a demon. I tormented myself with this idea constantly. I did this until finally I met someone who showed me otherwise. She showed me that I could be a good person and function with my family and society without rage. She showed me what I couldn't see in myself and it made the biggest impact on how I fixed my ways. She through a pebble into my pond of my mind and created a ripple effect that would help me soon realize that I could be a good person if I just believed in myself and put in the effort. This is what I would advise any of you reading this to do. You have the ability to see a new light but you need something to turn you into the right direction. I hope this is what my story does and if not maybe you can do it for someone else.