Member-only story
Stop Trying to Fill the Void
When your mind is built around a hole.
When I was 15, I convinced a group of boys that I was Australian. Why? Because I was bored. With myself. The beach. With babysitting my little brother, while the other teens got to have fun. And with my mentally ill mom, the source of all my unrest.
So I ditched them, and infiltrated a spring break party. Exactly like the kind they used to show on MTV. All the attention was just what I thought I needed to fill the hole in my adolescent soul.
One of boys asked me to tell them about Australia.
So I said something like, “You know, kangaroos and shit. Right?” Everyone laughed. Someone handed me a drink, and I smiled. For two whole hours I was the hot, sarcastic Ozzie.
You can’t fill a hole with lies.
My fun ended when the party moved on, and I returned to the hotel alone. Part of me wanted to follow them, and the other part knew that eventually my family would report me as missing. After all, I was in charge of the chores. The hole grew back almost immediately.
Nobody except my dad noticed my absence. He only complained mildly, mainly about leaving him alone with my mom and brother. Combined, they were quite a handful.
