A moment

The moment between birth and death, in part, remains only partially within control. In childhood, my parents made all of the decisions for me--as most parents do. However, even after the teenage drama passes and young adulthood emerges, people only react to situations as they arise. Although the decision, let's say, to maintain unhealthy eating habits are entirely within my control, I do not decide to have stomach cancer, or moles, or baldness. I do control how I react to these events, however.
In my childhood, my parents behaved outside of the mainstream, to put it mildly. I was home-schooled (a risky decision, especially in the 1980s), and my parents raised us in the woods 8 miles outside of a small town. We did not attend church, and we did not have a television or radio. As we grew older, we were forbidden to have boyfriends or to date. We were completely isolated and under-socialized.
Looking back, it astonishes me that my sisters and I can talk to people. As a youngster, I held my head down when speaking to people. It was painful.
I remember how depressed I became, even to the point of telling my sister, "I am not having a good childhood." Strange, how I identified my problem even as a child.
My life started off with the propensity to become depressed, and so I did.
I remember the first time I wanted to take my life. I was about 11 or 12. I sat on the edge of my parent's bed in their tiny mobile-home bedroom. I brought my father's .22 rifle to my chin and held the trigger with my right hand. I wanted to pull the trigger, but the thought of what lay on the other side of that shot frightened me. I remember after I put the gun down, I laid on the floor in a ball and cried. I wanted out, but there was no way out.