At age 15, I had a genius plan to take my dad’s Corvette out and take it for a test drive. Well, along that test drive, I happen to pick up my boyfriend at the time. I decided it was a better idea for him to drive; he ends up getting pulled over going 60/35. My dad’s ‘Vette ends up getting towed, and I end up getting to go home without the calling of my parents. However, that phone call was not pretty. I had never heard my mom so sad or my dad so furious. My punishment for this stunt was far less than what it should have been.
Now as an adult, I see the reasoning for this horrific incident; I wanted attention from someone, anyone. I thought I could only get my parents attention by acting out. I got attention, alright, but not the type I wanted. I was also feeling depressed. However at the time, I had no idea what depression was. I had no idea why my behavior and thinking was the way it was. College enabled me to know and acknowledge how I feel/felt, and what that does/did for my mental health.
Going to a Psychiatrist could have helped me understand my feelings more. A lack of information caused a lot of distress that could have been prevented. I also probably would have been prescribed a medication that would have neutralized my internal, biological hardware.