For years I have been afraid, afraid of being a statistic.

A statistic of rape, child abuse, depression, suicide attempts, and so much more.

Before I even started the application process my mom gave me advice, advice that centralled around rape and stress and my depression.

What she needed to give me was advice on how to be a good student, how to study. She needed to let me know that I am going to mess up but that just means I need to work harder.

Along with that she needed to tell me that I was going to be okay, that although my dad, which is reffered to as donor, owes well over $20,000 in child support that I need for college and to be able to stay at my college, does not define me. 

Because my mother did not give me advice or tell me about these things, my depression and stress has crept up. I am sitting here crying my eyes out because I cannot afford an apartment that will allow me to stay at my college since I did not get the residence assisstant position. 

And because of this, I lay awake at night with images creeping into my mind about my past and everything else that has caused depression. 

I go on to remember the nights I spent burried in my blankets hoping I would not get another bruise from donor. I remember the therapist appointments that did nothing for me but teach me to put on a fake smile. 

And because of my need for the education I want and the failure of keeping that due to money, I  have become what I am afraid of.

A statistic