Highschool Blues
“ When you look back on the hardest moment/s in your life, is there anything you wish you could have told yourself?”
It prompted me to reflect on the teenage me struggling in high school.
I’ve just started semester one of uni, and one of my units is a psych unit called managing challenging behaviours. It seems there is no easing into it, as module one is self-harm. BAM, high school memories are flooding back…
When I transitioned from St Anthony’s to Mackillop, you could request three friends with whom you want to be placed. I naturally put down my closest primary school friends, and we were mostly successful in being together, and still, we all hung out as a group with a few additions at lunch times. New swear words were learned, and behaviours were witnessed. One of which was sometimes some girls would search through another girl’s school bag; I can’t remember exactly why, but the thing that got the most laughs was finding period products. The front of the bag was always targeted first because that’s where you expected to find sensitive items like this. I never participated in it, but I never spoke up to stop it, either. I was always a blend-in-with-the-crowd kind of kid. Until it happened to me…
It was raining, so we hung out in the blocks and played truth or dare. I was dared to find a girl from our primary school and call her some rude names, and another timid girl in the group was told to go with me to make sure I did it. I opted for a lap of the school instead, but when I came back, the group were going through my school back. They got caught in the act, and I remember looking at them, picking up my bag and taking my stuff off them and walking away. I think I locked myself in a toilet until lunch ended but never hung out with them again.
I was a bit of a loner after that, I tried hanging out with another group from class, but I didn’t feel like I fit in. Then there was an issue where I hung out with a friend from a different class because we had just had a class together. When I returned to the group at lunchtime, I got in trouble for hanging out with others and was essentially ousted from the group afterwards.
Having a twin sister was my saving grace; I’m not sure how I would have gotten through if I didn’t have to option of hanging out with Nicole and her friends, but I knew I needed to find my own, so I only sat with them when I needed to. It worked both ways; there was almost this non-communicated thing between us where if she approached me at lunchtime, you knew there was an issue, and she needed a friend for lunch. She’d tell me what happened, and we knew it would roll over in a day or two.
I found myself pretty low in confidence during these years, and being in the same class as my “old friends.” they would often appear to be laughing at me, looking at me, and acting like they were talking about me (whether they were, I don’t know). I’d fake sickness to get out of oral presentations or when I felt uncomfortable and like it was too much. On one occasion, the front office lady called my mum because she said I was pale and might have a virus like measles. Mum always came and picked me up and took me home. I recall her having a meeting with the teachers about it, but you don’t want to make a fuss when you’re being bullied because you know there is a risk the bullying could get worse.
I am incredibly grateful that the internet was just on the rise and social media didn’t exist because bullying is even more accessible, and there is no break for the victim. At least when I got home from school, I didn’t have to face those girls until the next school day. Now kids can be sent messages of abuse via social media unless you block them.
I don’t remember what triggered these big feelings, but one afternoon, the emotional pain and loneliness were so great that I dug into my wrist with the metal pointed end of a nail file. I didn’t want to feel anymore, but I didn’t want to end my life either. The thought of making myself bleed was also not appealing. Hence the nail file was my object of choice. This is the first time I have ever told anyone about my self-harm. I only did it once and have two faint scar lines as a permanent memory (so faint that I can only see them because I know they are there).
It is exactly what self-harm is: an emotionally distressed person trying to regulate and self-soothe. Sometimes physical pain is easier to feel than emotional pain. Some people are sometimes disassociated and numb to the pain and injuries they inflict on themselves.
I don’t regret walking away from those girls because I chose my values over fitting in. School life did get better for me. By halfway through year 10, I had some great friends, some of whom I am still in touch with today.
The other thing that I think saved me was sports outside of school. I loved sports, so I often had training after school and games on the weekend, and I always participated in the sports carnivals and went to any zone carnival I could because that meant a day off school! Extracurricular activities outside of school result in friends outside of school, and while I remember being standoffish in my first soccer team in year 7, I had one friend, and that’s all you need. That one friend was Lydia Williams, whom I found out after reading her first children’s book saved, was new to the team that year too.
Like mental illness, a stigma is attached to those who self-harm by peers and the helping medical professionals. This is a huge barrier for them to get the help they need. Emphasis is placed on this in the self-harm module I am currently doing.
Shame and judgement are real, so education needs to start in high school. Learning about the brain and behaviour will lead the way for more compassionate and understanding humans. By learning about the brain and how it affects behaviour, students can better understand themselves and others and develop empathy and compassion for those struggling with mental health or behavioural issues.
We don’t have to like everyone. I think the sooner we accept we are all different and won’t like everyone, the better it will be. You can dislike someone and still have compassion for them.
Like my friend Andrew said to me. “If people accepted people’s personality and life choice differences as readily as we accept that people have different tastes in food, the world would be a much better place”.
The olives are all yours, Andrew :).
This was a moving read. I feel so much richer for having you in my life, thank you for sharing.
Well done, Clare.
That was a great read and not only brave, but you also have a way to objectively look at what is quite emotional.
I’m better for reading this and R4R is better for having you as part of our community!