All Too Well

‘Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralysed by it. I'd like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it’.

For the last year and a half my mind has been the loudest it’s ever been. I changed a lot the past year because of it; I’m less likely to take risks, my anxiety is at an all-time high and my mind tells me that I’m terrible. Eighteen months ago, I was entirely different, but I never want to revisit those eighteen months. I’ve changed in that time, but I’m just glad to have gotten through it.

For Christmas my family gave me an electronic photo frame, and my Tadcu, who loves taking photos whenever possible, provided me with a sim card already filled to the brim of family photos. My dad took a copy of the photos and spent hours looking through them for ones of our family that we could keep. My dad took me aside one day and told me of how looking through the photos showed him that I hadn’t showed as much joy in the past few years as I had in those photos from when I was eleven or twelve. When he asked me if I was joyful around my friends, I couldn’t tell him wholeheartedly that I was. Because I haven’t been for a while. Something’s been holding me back.

When I finished my first year of GCSEs, I worried like anyone about the dreaded results day. But when it came to waiting on results for my second year of GCSEs, I was filled with a fear that I’d never been hit with before. Starting A Levels was so much harder than I anticipated it would be. Submitting essays and getting the feedback felt like a disappointing game that I was frustrated I couldn’t master. I’d been disappointed by my un-disappointing GCSE results, and gaining less-than-desirable results in my first year of A Level disheartened me to no end. I felt like I was walking through lead and over the next year, that feeling only intensified. Year 12 results day made me feel sick, and even though I’d done well apart for one exam, the feeling of worthlessness would creep in time and time again for the remainder of sixth form.

Going in to Year 13, I had high hopes for my final year of school. I was rushing ahead for my future because my present felt impossible. The stereotype of a black cloud following you around was my life, but thunderstorms and lashing rainstorms during my final exam period had my faith plummeting. Throughout year thirteen, there were numerous moments where I felt I couldn’t do anymore, but that failure was happening whether I did more or not. I’ve never cried openly as much I have in the past year, and I feel like I lost a big part of myself I may not see again for a long while. I’ve never considered myself a perfectionist, but having expectations of yourself and not meeting them? It’s the worst torture I’ve ever felt. Being terrible at the subjects you’re not good at during GCSE is fine, but when your A Levels are supposed to be subjects you excel at, not meeting a standard feels like the ultimate failure.

I know that stress makes you react in a certain way, but I feel that how I felt goes far beyond any kind of emotions stress could induce. Happiness was a feeling I couldn’t feel fully for a while. I realise how intense that sounds; I felt bursts of happiness, but the cloud over my mind would tell me I didn’t deserve happiness. It would tell me that feeling happy was something I should still be foreign to. And I believed it. For far longer than I should have, I believed it.

When we were on holiday this past year, there was a day where I just didn’t want to get out of bed. Where I made it to breakfast and to the pool but where I just couldn’t make it through the rest of the day. I can’t tell you why. I just couldn’t. It’s not the only day I’ve felt like that, but it’s the only time I’ve succumbed to the feeling.

I can’t say that I don’t still have days of utter worthlessness. I can’t tell you that I haven’t cried in my room these past few months of being at University. But I can tell you that it’s no longer a constant. The thunderclouds have parted for the most part. It’s still a little cloudy, and the skies are a little grey, but sunlight has reached through.

Yet another song quote, but one I feel is accurate – ‘I’ve made it through the darkest part of the night, and now I see the sunlight’. Not completely. But I’ve seen it. For the first time in a long while I’ve at least caught a glimpse.

If you feel like there are thunderclouds ruling your thoughts, please be aware that they will eventually subside. It’ll be horrible and disgusting, and you’ll never want to have ever experienced the thunderclouds, but they will subside. One day. You can speak to someone, or you can combat it alone, but know you don't have to be alone. The feeling of loneliness can take over and hold you captive. By breaking free and telling your mind to piss off so that you can tell someone how you feel, you have already started taking back control. I'm probably the most hypocritical person for telling you to speak to someone although it's hard because I waited far too long. But I'm here now. I'm still here. Some amazing people had my back and held my hand as I vented, and I'm thankful to them, and I can be there for them now, too.

In 2018 I read a book by Matt Haig and I realised I'm not who I once was. I'm working on it, slowly but surely. I'm telling my mind that the feelings it wants me to feel are hurting me and I don't want to feel them anymore. For now, they're at least listening a little. They surprise me every now and again and I need to have a chat with my mind. It's a pattern, but it's at least now showing some progress.

I hope one day the feelings won’t be able to surprise me and that eventually I’ll wake up every day bathing in sunlight. The clouds are holding their ground, but I hope one day I'll just see sunshine. It seems unlikely to happen soon, but I hope it’ll happen eventually. It has to, because I couldn’t cope if it didn’t.

‘I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it’.

I’d love to be the child who’d laugh without reservation and feel joy from the bottom of my toes to the tips of my ears, but that’s not me anymore. I’m working on it, and I’m reminding my brain that when I say I want to be happy, it needs to listen. It’s still hard and I’m worried it’ll never stop being hard. But I’m here. I feel so much more me than I have in over a year.

I’m not the same me, but I’m me. I hope that’s okay.

#Teenager #MentalHealth #MentalHealthAwareness