Depths from the Past - Part 3

The Solution

Why did I write those 2 horrifyingly scary posts? Don't worry - I promise I'm not that person now.

A few things have come to my attention recently.

1 - What the hell are your kids doing on Facebook and Twitter?

If your child is under 18 and has a Facebook, I don't think that's smart parenting. When I was in middle school, MySpace was the big thing. Everyone at that age gets in trouble since they're still working on their "identity". They don't even who their true friends are. I can understand if your child might be traveling during the summers for some academic or sports programs and meet people from around the world. They want to keep in touch - I can appreciate that. If any adult looked at their child's Facebook, Twitter, or whatever page, I'm sure they'd be surprised. When you get older, especially when you grow up in college, you realize that the younger kids are aggravating as shit online. I don't want to see 50 posts about how depressed you are because some guy doesn't like you. You sound like Taylor Swift and someone needs to smack the shit out of you. Some parents don't even know what their kids are doing - smoking, drinking, going to parties they shouldn't be at. It explains where they REALLY were last Saturday night. 

Dear Parents, please be smarter about this.

2 - Mortality in Youth

In the last 5-10 years, the suicides in youth across the country have escalated. It can be due to a ton of things - being gay, bullying, complications with identifying themselves, etc. There are millions of things. Also DON'T TEXT AND DRIVE. What the hell is wrong with you? Accidents while texting and driving are becoming more popular than drinking and driving! KNOCK IT OFF. My family KNOWS I don't take that crap while I'm in the car. Do you WANT to kill me? Worse - do you WANT to be responsible for the death of someone else in another car? Your kids shouldn't be texting while driving either. I don't care how much that fancy iPhone 24 costs! IT IS NOT MEANT TO BE PLAYED WITH WHILE DRIVING. So kids, stop taking pictures of yourself behind the wheel. I can meet you at a red light to see you smile while driving. No one cares. Get your shit together.

If the world can change one or both of these things, I think the world would be a little better.

There are many little things we say and do everyday that can make or break someone. If you changed one little thing, how big could the solution be? If you could figure out why your child really doesn't like going to school? If you could make a difference in someone's life? 

How big would the change be?

The point in posting those experiences I had weren't to freak out my readers. The point was to understand that kids actually feel that way today. They go through worse today because there's so much crap in the world. 

I'm a happy & healthy soon-to-be 21 year old. I run almost every day and swim every week. I have Celiac Disease, but I love to dance. I enjoy choreography, reading books, and listening to great new music! I go to church every week and believe in God. I pray every day and I'm honest. I love Social Work & I can't wait to help people once I graduate college. I'm passionate about many things, including the youth today. 

It pains me to see the youth today deal with situations that scar so deeply, but they can be fixed so simply. 

Depending on whether this was scary or inspirational, I hope you understand my reasons for these posts. 

For my parents who are probably reading all this and freaking out: I was strong then & I'm stronger now. 

Depths from the Past - Part 2

The Depression

I was horribly and utterly confused. I took it out on everyone – my parents, my older brother, and my little sister. I threatened to run away. I took all of my belongings to the basement and demanded my own space, one place of my own that is not allowed to be shared with my sister. I craved independence for the wrong reasons then.

I straightened my hair every day. I bought makeup and practiced with it. A lot. I listened to loud obnoxious music with lyrics that scared the hell out of my parents. I fell into a depression so deep that Alice in Wonderland could not find a hole that fell equally as far. I wanted nothing to do with my family. I kept quiet in the car, only answering to questions with one word responses. I tried to hurt myself and others.

I found ways to do the easiest damage to myself without the scars. I thought to cut myself but did not want the mess. I cut my hair short and spray painted it with different colors. I wore inappropriate clothes that made me look like a baggy gangster instead of a slut. I wore hats and fell in love with the color black.

I wrote horrifying poetry that was deep, graphic, and painful. I cried all the time and I had emotional breakdowns every other week. I did not fit in anywhere and I hated it. I was alone in a very neutral zone. I had crushes on guys but got over them. I pushed friends away and lost more. Only three close girl friends stuck by me.

I dreamed of dying, all the ways I could go. I dreamed of watching everyone at my funeral and wondered how they would react to seeing my lifeless, pale body in a six foot box. I dreamed of too-late compliments from kids in my class, flowers from family members, and even cards addressed to me. I thought about the pictures my parents would put around the funeral parlor and how many people there would be. Maybe there would be none at all.

I wanted the pain because it made me numb. I was lost. I was the only one and it was not fair at all. I ate less and cried more. I turned up the volume on my scream music and ignored my family. I read and wrote dangerously and lived freely. I was not tied down, but at the same time I wanted to be. I did not want to be loved, but I actually did. I was a confused adolescent who craved attention but was afraid of admitting my failure and defeat. I did not want another reminder that I was a bad person, that I was not good enough, that I could not live up to the standards of the people around me.

Those years were the worst. I created an imaginary hell hole for myself.

But they were also a turning point in my life, as well as many other experiences I have had and will have in the future. Those years were also the best years. I understood who my best friends were, girls I still keep in close contact with to this day. I was accepted to a private Catholic all-girls high school that I loved. Even though there were more difficult decisions ahead, I changed. I graduated 8^th grade with a couple of awards. I completed my final basketball season and started thinking about the possibilities of high school.

Fact: I want to change and start over. I want a new life. 

Depths from the Past - Part 1

The Failure

Everyone goes through a depression stage. It is usually quite visible when it hits too. It is the certain age range – the pre-teen to teenage era – when it strikes with full force. It is the identity and questioning years, the years that tear you apart to find yourself. They are the toughest and most critical years in a young girl’s life. I would like to speak for the young boys as well, but I can only speak for myself and the experiences of others closest to me.

I was a scary tomboy. I remember my grade school years well. There were tons of crushes among the kids in my class. Some dated each other and rumors were constantly swirling around. He kissed her, she actually likes this other guy, etc. Middle school – my 6^th to 8^th grade years – were the worst and best. I spent my entire educational life in Catholic schools, becoming well educated under the proctoring of my parents who believed in the solid and well-trusted Catholic education.

I applauded my Catholic schools and adored my Catholic education. To those who believe in it, faith is something that always stays with you. For me, faith is the invisible layer outside my skin – it is always with me. It is the soft pillow that comforts my body and mind when I am stressed or inconceivably happy. Faith is no longer a reminder of something I need to have, but something I have that I need to use.

However, I did not always have faith. In middle school, I was picked on and befriended. I attempted to stay neutral and dreamed of things to do instead of doing them. I stayed focused on grades and getting into high school. If boys liked me then, I never knew. I was skinny, confused, and incredibly shy. The back of the classroom was my home and I never rebelled against the rules. I learned the meaning of discipline and my upbringing made me mature at a very young age.

I was good at a couple things then, constantly dabbling with different ideas about school subjects and sports. I was never fantastic at one thing. I do not think I ever will be. I kept a low profile in school, trusting few and remaining in a neutral relationship with the rest. I was civil with girls I did not like (the popular girls) and used my manners. I never tried to impress anyone because I did not think there was anyone for me to impress. The other girls did. I kept a low profile on the basketball team as well, barely making a name for myself but keeping up with my athletic skills.

I was a failure, the “could have been” prodigy child that never was. I could have grown into a professional musician like my mother. I could have become a superstar athlete or Irish dancer like my father hoped I would. I could have made something of a skill I learned at a very young age and could have been traveling the world by now, signing autographs and performing for hundreds of thousands of people.

But I did not want to touch any of it.

I had no idea what I wanted anymore.

Fact: I am an unattractive and bony failure athlete, dancer, musician, and student.