A Little Bit of Me

Here’s a bit of me…

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Hi all! Thank you so much for coming to my blog and taking the time out of your day to read about this. This is just my first blog post on this website and it’s just background about me…. Abby Falzone!

I was born in 2002 and grew up in the outsides of Los Angeles. Growing up, I was living the perfect life… I got a little taste of everything in LA. I was able to experience the perfect family life in a big, cozy house with all my friends just a short walk away, but also while being able to drive into one of the biggest and most diverse cities in the nation and experience things that some people will never experience in their entire life. I feel INSANELY blessed to have lived this life, and looking back I realized that that was my norm and I never thought that it was completely rad or out of the ordinary… it was just my life.

That was until 2013 when my mom got diagnosed with breast cancer. It’s something that I can remember parts of. I remember crying with my brother the night she went into surgery. I remember her cutting off all her hair, only to lose the rest of it. I remember when I went to visit her for the first time in the hospital with my best friend and her mom, only to see my brother and dad there too, crying. I remember when she collapsed in the living room because was talking to her too much and asking her too many questions after she got back because was being selfish. I remember my dad telling me to go back upstairs and everything would be fine. I remember her sitting on her bed, attempting to knit my dog a ‘blanket’ because that was the only thing she was able to do. Yes, I know this happens to a lot of people and you probably have heard so many stories about it. I had heard all about breast cancer before this, but when it actually happens to someone you truly care about and love, you think about it differently. I was still young when this happened, so I can only imagine what it was like for the rest of my family to go through. After that, we had to give up so much to avoid this happening again, but it was worth it, because my mom would be healthy. I thought that this would be the end of it, everyone would go back to normal but little did I know, this was only the beginning.

When my mom was going through chemotherapy, my dad had to work more, so he got a job on base 2 hours away. He rented an apartment there and only saw us on the weekends, which was completely awful. Here’s a little bit about my dad: My dad was a creative and CRAZY guy, and trust me when I say that. He was the first in his family to go to college in Florida after living a pretty tough life. There, he met my mom and they started a computer company together, they were both engineers. After moving across the country together with their little puppy, they finally ended up in California, where I was born. Before I was born, my dad made a promise to himself that I would know the real him. So, he quit his 9-5 job and pursued what he REALLY loved to do…. sing and make music. He made lot and lots of soundtracks, he had his band over all the time when I was little and I remember I would hide out in a room because they were so loud. When all this stuff happened and he barely saw us, he absolutely hated it. He hated it because he knew that that wasn’t him. He might’ve been good at doing that stuff he did on base, but his character and who he truly was was not in that computer. It was at home, with us and his guitar. After a couple of months, he realized he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t be away from all of us at such a tough time. But, while he was working on base he heard about this little place called Eglin in Northwest Florida. Keep in mind that when my mom moved to the states from China, she went to Florida for college and they’ve been thinking about moving back since they moved to California. When he heard about that, he came and checked it out and was blown away at how it was so different from LA and how much better of a place it was for us to be because of my mom and for my brother and I to grow up in. So as soon as I knew it, we were out of California and across the country in a little southern town in Florida named Niceville.

Niceville! Out of all things… Niceville! A southern town! By a gorgeous beach! What was going on?! It’s still all a blur when I think about it. I got here in seventh grade and we moved into a nice southern styled home on a golf course. I made a few friends, some of which are still my best friends and beyond.. Moving here was a complete culture shock for all of us. Eighth grade I was, pardon my French, a complete bitch to everyone. I dropped some of the only friends that would’ve helped me through what I was about to go through. I dropped them because I had a ‘reputation to uphold’ because I thought I was all that and, well, it’s middle school I’m pretty sure everyone thought like that. I befriended a lot of fake people, fake friends who weren’t even there for me when I needed them the most. But, I also became friends with a handful of good people. LESSON: Don’t drop your true friends because of what other people think, you’re a jerk if you do what I did and you’ll regret it.

In the end of eighth grade, things were going down, down, downhill and no one even knew because I kept all of my emotions in, which probably isn’t the greatest thing. First, my dad got into a car accident which wasn’t that bad, but it was still scary because who knows what could’ve happened if one different move was made. Next, my parents started fighting a lot more than normal, and eventually told us probably at the worst possible time that they were going to split up, most likely get a divorce. Honestly, I never ever saw this coming. We were a happy family! We loved each other, but anything can happen at anytime without any notice. Everything happened so fast after that. We moved out into a house down the street, leaving my dad alone in this huge family home that held so many memories. What I clearly remember was me finally stating what I thought, which created a lot of conflicts. My grandparents flew in and took my moms side in everything, which I thought was unfair because my dad needed someone too. I told them that everyone is supporting her which is not right because my dad needs someone. I remember screaming, lots and lots of screaming. I remember someone calling my aunt because she was angry with my dad. I remember me telling my aunt to calm to hell down because not everyone can have it like her and stay home all day. I remember going into our new house and it not feeling like a home because my dad was missing. I remember my dad going back to LA to go back to acting and singing but then coming back and talking to me about where he wanted me. He asked me. He wanted me to make the decision on whether he should pursue his dreams or be with us. I told him I wanted both, I want him to live his life to the fullest potential while being with us. I remember going over to the house for the last time before it happened and we just stared at the ceiling talking about what life actually was and what I would come to understand one day. I remember the last time he came over for dinner the night before and I was hooked on my computer the whole time, I didn’t play the board game that he asked me to play with him, little did I know that would be the last time I could’ve played anything with him. I remember saying goodbye to him for the last time without knowing it was my last. I remember my mom coming home and telling me what happened. “Your dad died” I knew as soon as she walked in the house that something was wrong. I remember screaming his name and asking him to come back as soon as it happened. I was angry. I was sad. But, I knew that it was better. I knew how much emotional stress was on him in this time and I knew he was better with Him. It hurt so bad. It still hurts so bad, almost a year later. I don’t think I could ever erase the image of my brothers face when my mom told him what happened. That’s what hurt the most, knowing that other people had to face this pain that I was also feeling, that’s how much it hurt. There was guilt, anger, sadness. My mental state gradually got worse. I thought I was fine after a while, but now I know I’m not because by typing this right now, I’m reliving everything I tried so hard to forget. It’s tough for me to talk about this stuff, and the only reason I’m telling YOU all of these very, very personal things, is because I may be crying right now, this has a silver lining. If this hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be as in tune with my faith as I am now, I wouldn’t have some of the people in my life I have now, I wouldn’t have found the true friends in my life. The true friends are the ones who are still there, even through my emotional breakdowns through the phone and who aren’t scared of me because they think they can’t talk to me because I’m some fragile girl who can’t handle emotions. No, after everything I’ve been through I think I can handle my emotions just fine.

Yes I know, there are people out there who have it 100x worse than this, I’m not saying they don’t. But, this is my story so far, and I’m only 15, which makes me scared yet insanely excited about what’s to come.

So, there’s a little piece of me, not even all of it. I have a great life, I’ve always found a way to live life to it’s fullest potential. These things might be sad, but it’s the pain that gets us to the good stuff in life. Without pain, we have nothing. That’s what I learned. Before this, I was a nobody, I had a perfect life, which, if you think about, isn’t all that perfect because it isn’t a life. A REAL life, consisting of a rollercoaster of emotions that will eat you up and spit you back out, but you have to make the most of it. ALWAYS make the most of what you have, someone would love to have your worst day.

Just do life.Processed with VSCO with c1 preset