High school sucks!
It started with hopes of new friendships and the excitement of what games we would be playing during recess today. My best friend was a boy named James and he would always show up a hour late because his mother would drive him to school when his brothers needed to be at school. During second grade I learned that I was really good at math/science and language arts and I was set on being a biochemist while other kids my age were set on being ballerinas and/or professional football players. I remember I was so excited when I got my addition and subtraction down, it was like I just solved world hunger but differently. I used to play soccer after school because I also wanted to be a famous soccer player, the goalie was my go to spot since I was always a oddly tall kid from day one. This meant I could block almost the whole tiny goal we used. The first thing that actually majorly impacted me was when I won my first school-wide art competition, in which my art piece was hung in the city hall building and I got to shake the hand of the mayor. In second grade I learned that I couldn't just stand by and wait for stuff to happen, I had to make it happen no matter the obstacles that were placed in my way.
This year was my go to year for soccer because this was the first year I was old enough to try out for the soccer team. I remember my father would have me practice my passing and goalie until my feet would be sore from kicking the ball over and over again. My dad always use to say that it was better to be sore than to be a loser.
This was my year, the year I made the team after not making it last year due to my ability of paying more attention to the ball and to not my surroundings. This was the year I started to get more involved into math more because I realized maybe I was more than what society told me I was going to be.
I was going to be more outgoing,
I was going to open up more,
How about no to the statements I made in my head the first day of my Fifth grade year. This year was my most anxious year so far and it was kind of like a game for my classmates. If they gave the right answer or statement then they would win a panic attack from me. This was the year that I quit soccer but this was the year I started pulling my hood up to shield myself from all the judgemental stares I got but I was never far enough away to not hear all the insults and all the criticism they were targeting me with. This was the year I stopped art because I would cry when they called me a show off, teachers pet, or the worst one, "You’re only good at art cause your not good at anything else."
This was the year my depression skyrocketed and I would stay in my room and listen to My Chemical Romance because I thought that if I could escape into a different world that their music made for me then I would eventually never leave there. I was never normal when I was younger because I chose to do math or art over playing hopscotch or foursquare. I let my emotions get the best of me over silly things like what I wore or even if I colored outside of the lines. This was the year I learned that my emotions were paper thin and everything hurt me.
This year is what my mom and society called my "emo" phase year but this was the year I wore all black and painted my nails dark shades while the other girls were painting their nails bubble gum pink or even sea foam blue. My thought this year was if I made myself look unapproachable then kids would leave me alone. This year was the year I also switched schools which meant starting over, but starting over meant having no one all over again.
I started opening up a little more this year but that changed when I changed schools halfway through this school year again. New schools meant no familiar faces and that meant I had no one all over again. This year was the year I started to get more depressed from moving schools so much so I took it out on myself mentally and physically. I had etched into my head that facing my anger towards myself was better than hurting anyone else.
"One suffering quietly is better than many suffering loudly."
This was the year I started to go to Burlington High School part time which meant larger classrooms and in the mental state I was in, meant a chance of panic attacks. It was also the year I met my best friend Toshiba and she was the only person I got close to other than my mom.
This was the year I joined DETOUR, the BHS arts and literary magazine, and the mathletes, but secretly because I was terrified that I would get bullied more like past experiences. I started up art again this year and made more friends than any other year before this year. I knew one thing, this year was going to be great for once.
Am I in a dream?
Why me, why do I get something like this?
This was my reaction my junior year of high school as I realized for once I had people for me and I wasn't going to lose it anytime soon. I loved my friends and everything that I had so far and after school I would practice my art at the park across from where I lived. I would draw whatever I saw or thought about. I felt at peace for once in my life because I had something that cared about me more than anything.
My Senior year!
The year that I was waiting for but this year wasn't as perfect as I would have hoped. I lost some friends and got bullied all over again. I started getting more and more depressed about my appearance and who I was. I tried to get help but no one understood what I was going through at that moment in time. Then I came to YouthBuild, where I met some amazing and annoying people.