Content Warnings: Depression, Self-deprecation, Insomnia, Bullying
Myself,
We’re seniors in high school, something we dreamt about for a long time. From the very second we were born, we imagined ourselves leaving, because that’s what we’ve been taught, right? A life that’s our own, one that we can truly call ours. Our parents even told us, this is not the place for us to be, but this will always be our home for as long as our childhood home stands and as long as they’re here. But once I leave, I’m not sure if I can look back. Leaving feels more of a permanent thing than a college thing. I’ve never liked this place; there’s more pain and hardship than there are happy memories.
There was a time when we couldn’t shut our mouths; we’d talk for hours on end with people. But we learned to keep our mouths shut because we seemed to have found all the wrong words to say to people. Our perspective seemed different to other people; we’d always felt like an outsider to things, getting awkward chuckles after saying something that wasn’t well-known. Or for just talking too much. What I thought was normal wasn’t. Bullying was a consistent theme throughout our lives when we were young. Getting pushed or ignored, mean comments and hurtful words are thrown our way. Every year, there’d be a couple of kids who’d bother us, and it became a common thing.
Our parents are themselves as usual. Dad’s like a coach who’s learning how to love, but loves in a fiercely passionate way at the same time, and Mom’s deeply affectionate until she decides to let go when things get too hard for her, yet sticks around quietly protecting us when we need her. What a paradox those two are. We question their love frequently as they show affection in such a way that seems foreign to us.
We have a lot of friends who we call our own. Sometimes, we love them and hate them. But they’re people who stand by you, no matter what. Something that you thought you’d never find in this life, and yet, it exists like it was meant to.
You and your brother are the furthest you’ve ever been, and a part of you misses him so much that you try so hard to forget everything about him. You miss the inside jokes, the bonding, the teasing, the connection. You miss the days when it was you and him against the world. You couldn’t even go to his wedding. The one where you promised that you’d be his best man, and he your maid of honor. You ignore the hurt most days, but sometimes it creeps in, in the middle of the night when you’re trying to fall asleep, wondering if he forgot about everything.
Some days are so hard that you can’t wake up, that you cry yourself to sleep with thoughts whispering out the worst mistakes and thoughts about yourself. Other days, you feel like the best person in the world and forget about everything bad. You can’t speak well, so you find yourself writing out your thoughts and apologies. Sometimes, you wanna hurt. Other days, you just want to lie in your bed and cover your ears from the noise from the outside world. You just got into the University of Iowa and the University of Minnesota Twin Cities, but you want to go to the University of Chicago or Harvard. It feels like a dream that a part of you can’t let go, but you’re afraid of hoping too much.
I think we’re lost right now. Just trying to figure out our next step. We didn’t realize leaving was going to be this hard on us. We thought it would be easier, kinder to us. And yet, we find ourselves reminiscing, both the good and the bad. We find solace in music, photography, writing, and art. Listening to songs made it seem okay, like we were going to be able to get through the issue, and they’re the reason why we’re still here today, breathing.
We’re struggling a lot, most days, we try to forget about all the issues in our lives. The problems that are tightening at our necks and the nights when we try to look at them head-on, we find ourselves in more of a mess than when we started. You look in the mirror, and you don’t know who it is that’s looking back at you sometimes. And even with every happy thing that’s happened to us, staying here never really felt much like home or a long-term plan.
Your younger self
