excerpts

3.4

Mental disorders, for example, depression, are genetic.

When I read these words my stomach dropped. My throat went dry and I felt my head spinning.

Suddenly, it was like everything made sense. My family had a history of these...diseases. Of course, I was no different.

That's when I made the decision. I'd never have kids or raise a family. I wouldn't want to pass down this sickness.

Nobody should have to bear such a burden. I know genetics. I know what adding my genes to the gene pool means, especially when the history in my family is extensive and very serious.

I couldn't live with the guilt of giving someone the genes for suicide and depression and multiple other disorders.

My family is a ticking time bomb. I don't want to add more dynamite to the pile.

If you've felt devastation so deep that it made you want to tear yourself apart, you'd never wish it upon someone else. Not even your worst enemies.

I could take the risk. Have kids anyway. And if I'm lucky then they'll be fine. But what if they're not?

Is fifteen too young to make these decisions? To think about the future?

Yes, but no. My choices aren't irrational if you think about them.

Maybe someone else faced with the same decision will choose differently. But this is me, my life, and I'll never get to be normal. I know that.

An excerpt from a story I'll never write