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February 16th 1991, the day i was born. Now it is that time again 18 years later. I'm sitting amidst a bunch of boxes sorting through my belongings and  memories in my corner of the garage i currently call home. It's the evening and without a heater it is nearly freezing. That makes me feel wide awake; it makes my mind move faster. Its currently two days before my birthday. Most other birthdays came and went not really meaning anything but being another day older and another year passed. This birthday is significant though. It is a passage into adult hood. For some reason i think that i have to automatically change into someone mature and reasonable rather than my usual bouncy slightly childish self.
February 16th  is also the day i move out. The day that my family and its emotions becomes slightly less of a part of me. It is also the day that i no longer have to hide in the cold garage any longer, so besides the stress of turning 18 there is a pounding joy in my head and heart. My head screams, “Freedom!” at me. I pick up one of my old photo albums and look at pictures of when i was little. I look so happy in those photos. I stare at one of just me and the 8 year old smiling blond child looks back at me. “where did you go?” i ask the picture. I knew there would be no answer, but i asked anyway.
When i was 16 i was diagnosed with depression. I remembered being happy like i was in those pictures, but somehow those days seemed far away and almost nonexistent. I seemed distant from myself and didn't really know or like who i was. My fathers constant yelling and ridicule didn't seem to help either. When i finally felt i could take it no longer i started leaving the house a lot and staying at the library from the day it opened to the day it closed. I read most of the novels and was captivated by all the different characters. I also read various religious books and teen life guides which seemed silly.
It was through those books i started thinking about who i was instead of just trying not to think and avoiding myself. I journaled daily and focused on my art, photography. Slowly i felt happy again i still had to live with the yelling and the feeling of being completely alone. I am still depressed a lot, feeling sad for no particular reason, but I now know about and value me, Eve, the person i am.
I continue packing putting all my treasures, paints, cameras, into boxes. I look again at the picture of me when i was 8 and think about my life. My childhood may have not been an easy one but it is over now. I feel sad not feeling quite ready it to be over. When Monday comes i will be an adult. It will be a time to start over; a time to keep going and growing. Its a time where my family and the emotions attached to them will be a little further away. I have learned to enjoy the happy moments when they come and endure through the sad ones. I am content.“Freedom” my brain says again. So with that i shut the last box now looking forward to the future and happy at least for the time being.