please please please?

will someone read this. you would be doing me a HUGE favor.
i know its long.


Like I said, we never seem to get a break. As soon as all the
stuff was over with Floyd and I thought my life was getting back
to normal, a police officer drove up to my house and knocked on
the door, my mom and dad answered it. I could catch little bits
and pieces of what they were saying, I heard "cutting them out"
and something about a hospital, that couldnt be good. my mom
came back into the kitchen, by this time she was hysterical, and
my dad I could tell he wanted to cry. I became numb, thinking if I
didnt cry then maybe it wasnt happening, and I could ignore it, it
seemed to work. I tried to console my parents telling them that
there was a good chance they were still alive. Do you know how
hard it is for a 15 year old to comfert her parents? something i
never wanna ever again. They called my grandparents, they
were over in nothing flat rushing off the two different hospitals,
they had to put my brother in one and my sister in another. I had
to stay up late that night, to check samantha [my diabetic little
sister] at 2 am. I sat on the couch not completely grasping the
situtation, I dont know if its just because i didnt want to, or i
didnt understand.
My brother and sister were in the hospital for a week, and
during that time, I had to play mom. I cooked, I cleaned, wathed
kids [i have 9 siblings] and gave samantha her shots. Even
though I hadnt done it before, i turned into an exact copy of my
mother, forgetting completely i was a teenager. My friends
would call, and i just about cry when i had to turn them down, i
was so sick of playing "mom" i just wanted my life back, to be a
teenager again, but i kept those feelings inside, put on a "mask"
and acted as if everything was alright. School, and even church
that week was hard. Having to repeat the story over and over,
the knot in my throat growing larger with each telling, but still i
didnt cry, i couldnt.
Over the week i decided that was it, this was too much for me,
and finally went to talk to someone, my school counselor. For a
week I went, telling him everything, pouring out my soul, but
still no real tears, the ones i did cry were fake and forced. But
isnt that what your supposed to do during a time like this, cry? I
pushed everything that had happened in the past week, two
weeks, and even month into the back of my mind. And now when
it seemed to all be pileing up on me there seemed to be no way
to release it. and i sank further and further into depression.
I became numb, a zombie walking through the halls at school.
I wanted nothing to do with anything or anyone there. I was
completely withdrawn, thinking to myself, i dont even remember
about what. I'd get home and go right up to my room to sleep.
The mornings though, were worse it was a battle to get myself
out of bed in the morning. I would tell me counselor about
everything, but that got me no where. He basically told mr that I
was on my own and that i had caused myself to feel so upset.
I dont know anymore, I've talked the counselors ear off and
i talked his ear off, i've told him about this. but i dont think that I 've
evr even
delt with it, just ignored it. It seems silly though, , this
happened two weeks ago why bring it up now? its in the past. I
really think that im just wasting his time, and that he thinks im
im in this all for attention. but believe me thats not what its
about.