My parents divorce

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I remember a long time ago someone once asked me what it was like to be older when your parents divorced, because they had never known a life where their parents were together, and they thought it had to be extremely difficult to almost be a teenager when your parents divorced. I do feel like younger kids probably do handle it better for some reason. My parents were separated briefly when I was really little; I barely remember it. I have a couple of random memories from that time that I didn't understand until I was older and was told they had split up around that time, but I didn't remember it, so the memories didn't seem to make sense until I learned that. After that they stayed together until I was 12. I had just started 7th grade when they split up for good. My mom thought I handled the transition really well, but I was having a much harder time than I was letting on. My parents splitting up wasn't the only thing that happened around that time, so I was really struggling. I had just started at the Jr. high which was so much larger than my tiny country elementary school. All of the elementary kids (we had 6 elementary buildings in our district at that time) filtered into the Jr. high after 6th grade (now it's middle school and elementary goes up to 5th grade). Early into my 7th grade year, my dog died. I grew up with my dog, and I loved her so much; not only did she die, but I watched her die. She died about a day or two before her birthday. She was born on Halloween, and I wasn't much into trick-or-treating or having any fun that year. I was so depressed that year. I didn't want to kill myself, but I remember wanting to die; it was the only time in my life I ever really felt like that. I wasn't suicidal, but if I were put in a situation where I could be killed, I may not have removed myself from it. I just felt like my entire world was ending, and everything I knew was being completely flipped upside down, but my mom had no clue. Neither of my parents knew. I didn't tell anyone. I just bottled it all up. I felt so lost and alone. My mom always thought I handled that period of my life so well, but she had no clue how difficult it was for me; she still doesn't, because I don't think she could handle that information, even now. I remember the day we left; my dad was sitting in his chair, and it was the only time in my life I remember him seeming genuinely sad. I had never seen him so defeated before. He didn't want us to leave. My mom had every right to leave; my dad wasn't a great husband. He was an amazing father, and at that time I didn't know why we were leaving; I didn't learn about everything else until years later. I just knew my dad was losing everything he loved. Prior to leaving, we were on a waiting list for an apartment in the city. My mom and sister were going together to rent an apartment. My sister was just getting out of the military and was preparing to start training for the police department. I had known we were leaving for a few months. My mom had told my dad she was planning to leave, but didn't want him to try to stop her, so she had the apartment call my aunt when a unit became available. I remember regularly asking my aunt if they had called. Part of me was kind of excited for a new journey and being able to live in the city where there were more opportunities, but that was before the reality of what it all meant set in. I remember when we got the call, we started moving our stuff at night. We'd load up the car and drive stuff over to the apartment when my dad was sleeping. The last day there, my dad knew we were leaving, and I just remember him sitting there barely holding it together. I remember giving him the biggest hug and telling him I loved him and that I would call him. I spent almost every weekend at my dad's because I didn't want him to be lonely. My mom finally put a stop to every single weekend; she wanted me home sometimes. For the most part, I could see my dad whenever I wanted, but there were limits when she felt I should be at home for one reason or another. My mom also remained friends with my dad, and they would still both occasionally do stuff with us. It wasn't an ugly divorce, but it was still incredibly difficult. My dad was a stay-at-home dad my entire childhood, and suddenly it's like his purpose was ripped away; we were growing up, and we were no longer there every single day. My dad was angry with my mom for leaving, but he also continued to get along with her. They tried really hard to get along for us. My dad even once came over when we were all sick and took care of us. He and my mom still went to some school meetings together. They did their best to both be there for us. I really admire them on that front, but it was still super difficult knowing apart of my life was so drastically changing. By the time I finished high school, I was used to the new arrangements, I worked through my depression, and I was in a healthy mindset. My parents' divorce wasn't official until my senior year of high school. They hadn't been together since I was 12, but they waited until my senior year to officially divorce. The funny part was they had to take parenting classes to help me cope when I was only a few months from being 18. It was something they were forced to do through the state since I was still legally a child. I remember teasing them over that; maybe it would have been helpful if they had those classes when they first separated, but at that point I was just amused. My parents splitting up was difficult, and I struggled at first, but thankfully, my parents got along and made it easier for us. I can't imagine the kids who have to deal with their parents fighting all the time. By the time I was in high school, none of my friends' parents were still together. It was much more uncommon to hear of kids whose parents were still together. I remember being shocked when my best friend told me his parents were still together, but that didn't last long. His parents ended up going through a divorce during our junior year of high school. I used to invite him over so he could get away from all of the yelling. His parents' divorce was messy and ended with a restraining order put out on his dad to stay away from his mom and sister. When his parents split up, the kids chose where they wanted to stay, and my friend didn't want his dad to be alone, so he stayed with his dad, and his sister lived with their mom. Their dad was an addict, and when he would get high, he could get mean, which is part of the reason his mom left. His dad was always nice to me, even when he was high; he was addicted to prescription pills, so he'd down them, and I could always tell when he was loaded. My friend's dad once scooped up roadkill and put it on the doorstep of the house his mom was staying at at the time. His mom was staying with her friend who lived nearby briefly, so it was easy access to my friend's mom. Needless to say, after seeing what my friend was going through, it made me all the more grateful for how my parents handled their divorce.