The two facts in the title are words I would never even think to utter to anyone who wasn’t close enough to me to hear my most embarrassing lore. But since I’m about to graduate and become an adult, I figured I might as well expose myself and leave without any secrets whirling through my brain while I walk across the stage.
Since I started gaining consciousness, I’ve always thought of myself as abnormal. The other kids around me didn’t overthink everything like I did and weren’t as scared of everything around them. My mom has always been a cautious clean freak, and in many ways, I turned into a worse version of her. I remember a specific moment in Kindergarten when I was supposed to sit down, but there was a pine cone on my seat. I was petrified. I thought it was something dirty, something I could never touch. My lovely teacher tried her best to convince my stubborn self to sit down as she swiped the pine cone off the seat. I refused. The entire class, I stood next to my seat. Occasionally glaring down in horror, I knew I could never sit there. That day when my parents came to pick me up, my poor teacher was extremely concerned for my well-being and told my parents what happened. I’m not sure how they reacted or what happened after that specifically, but that was the point my parents realized I wasn’t normal.
In elementary school, I overthought everything I did. I owe my entire life to the social worker at Fox Chase who fixed me enough to be a functioning member of society. I remember a specific point in first grade when I was repeatedly working on something and erasing it, to the point where my teacher had to take my eraser away and I started to cry. Throughout elementary school, I also tried to be careless like the other kids but the guilt and fear I felt put me right back in my place. My first and only time getting clipped down to red, I was devastated. I decided to be silly for once and keep ringing the next station bell, even though it wasn’t time yet and I just kept ringing it out of enjoyment. I didn’t listen to my teachers, and I got clipped down to red and kicked out into the hall. The gut-wrenching regret I felt was almost unbearable. I bawled my eyes out and as the fifth graders I looked up to crowded the halls I felt so much shame. But, to my surprise, the fifth graders gave me high fives and tried to make me feel better and comfort me. I will forever be thankful to those fifth graders because they made my hell a little easier to deal with. When my teachers came out to have a chat with me I apologized profusely and begged to have the red removed. They didn’t remove it and it remained a stain upon my conscience for a while.
Moving on to trying to learn how to ride a bike without training wheels, and failing miserably. I tried my best to stay straight and not fall into the dirt, something I was terrified of. But to no one’s surprise, I did fall. Disappointed and afraid to try again, I cried. I think my parents were too scared to try to push me to try again, so I never did. I went to the doctor’s probably a few months after and my mom expressed her concern. My doctor said it was normal for some kids to start riding a bike without training wheels later in life, and that I would be comfortable eventually. I don’t remember if I tried again after that, but all I know is I never learned to ride a bike.
I’ve always been socially awkward too, but I think I’ve gotten better with age and therapy. My friendship experiences have been turbulent, but I’m still grateful for them all because they taught me so much. In kindergarten, I don’t remember having many friends, and I would spend most of my time counting the minutes on the playground bench. I even remember someone telling me in the later years of elementary school that they thought I was weird in Kindergarten. I felt unwanted and odd until someone sat next to me on the bench. I hope you know who you are, and thank you so much for making me feel deserving of a kind friendship. Towards the middle of elementary, I was friends with two of my neighbors. We had a fun friendship that I am still grateful for, but I was the third wheel, and that’s okay because we just weren’t meant to be friends. I made more friends in elementary school and became more and more outgoing. If you remember being friends with me or attending a birthday party, I miss you and I hope you enjoyed our friendship because I will always cherish each one. I am still really good friends with two of those people, and my heart will always fill with gratitude when I think about that. To the dude that my cat Mittens loved, and to the dude I never saw again, I miss you both and think about you from time to time.
Elementary was also a grueling time for my mental health. I remember having to watch a polio video and falling into depression for months when every topic related to disease or negative medical situations would make me so upset that I would throw up. I saw a sick child poster asking for donations outside of a Turkish delight shop, and I was traumatized for a good while. We got back into the car and I was so incredibly scared and upset that I threw up in the car. If the people in that car are reading this, I’m so sorry. I needed many sessions with the school’s social worker, and I will never forget her. She helped me through my depression and helped me when my mom was hospitalized for ITP issues too. She told me to hug myself to cope, and I still do that sometimes. She thought I had depression then, and I’m pretty sure that’s when it all started. My gratitude for her will always be immense, thank you so much for all of your help. If you happen to be reading this, I don’t think I’d be alive without you.
Now: middle school. Middle school was a very embarrassing couple of years, as it was for most people. Middle school was when all the outgoing bits of my personality started to fade again like they did in Kindergarten. There I was in the halls, wishing I had classes with my friends from elementary school, desperately waving at them any chance I got. I still got to talk to some of them, so it wasn’t like they were actually gone but the closeness we had was definitely gone. I also remember someone from a different elementary school, who was very fake and would only talk to me in person, and made fun of the overnight pads I wore during the day. I hope she becomes a better person. I was also crazy in middle school and would confess to my crushes who I hardly knew, and those memories still make me cringe to this day. I am thankful I learned my lesson early though. I’m so sorry to those people who I severely weirded out, I sincerely hope you forgot about me.
Enough about the absolute abomination that middle school was, let’s finally talk about high school. My freshman year was online, and the isolation never really bothered me. Mostly because I was never really isolated, and found solace in a group chat that was my friend group for most of freshman year. I learned the most from these friends, and I will always be thankful for that. I miss some of them, and I wish we never had that falling out, but I also know it was meant to happen. Looking back, I realize what I did wrong in those friendships, and what other people did wrong too. I am a way better friend, communicator, and listener because of them. Thank you so much for that, every member of that group chat. It hurt a lot when it all ended, but I’m still grateful I got to be your friend.
The destroyed friend group left us with two sides. Two group chats that had the same people, split in two. I am glad it turned out the way it did, but there are still people from both sides I miss, and sometimes I wish some of the people on the other side were on my side. I enjoyed our separate friend group, and over time we became more neutral with each other, especially when we went back to in-person. I don’t resent anyone on either side and appreciate everyone. Sometimes I see you in the hall and wish we were still friends, and I never know if it’s appropriate to wave to you in the hall, but just know I want to. But I also know everything that happened was supposed to happen, and I am content.
My anxiety around social situations never really got cured, and if you know me but not well enough for me to be comfortable around you, you can probably tell. Over the years, I’ve found a group of friends I can be comfortable with, and I love my friends so much. Thank you so much for all the memories, and I’m happy to say that two of those friends from freshman year are still good friends of mine to this day.
Throughout these four years, I’ve met some incredible people but also some lousy ones, and I carry the lessons both groups taught me every day.
My mental health was not the best at times, and it got worse in high school. Freshman year, the people around me were dealing with their battles with mental health and I wanted to support them but didn’t know how, and I knew my problems would also get worse in high school. Towards the end of freshman year, everything built up inside of me and I was approaching the first time I was unable to complete an assignment on time. It was a history assignment, and I remember I didn’t have time to finish the last two or so slides, and that sent me into a panic. I was pacing around my room crying, nervously sending out an apology email to my teacher, who was sweet enough to forgive me. Thank you so much for giving me grace that day. Before I knew everything would be fine, it felt like the end of the world, and that was when I first experienced a suicidal thought. I thought if I couldn’t turn a lousy freshman history assignment in on time, and I couldn’t hold a friend group in place, I was better off dead, because how could I even become a functioning adult? Thankfully, I’ve never been able to go through with my thoughts, and I’ve never actually harmed myself. I was scared of my own thoughts, and I ran into the shower at like 11 or 12 and felt much better. I am so grateful for showers, and that I have the privilege of being able to take one whenever I want.
In my sophomore year second semester, I took Driver’s Ed. This is when I finally explain why I can’t drive. First of all, I’ve been in several accidents, but none of them were severe enough to shake me up that much. I thought driving was the one normal thing I’d be able to do, and that I would finally feel like a normal teenager. That was far from the case. I struggled so much and was terrified of driving once I realized I couldn’t drive correctly for the life of me and didn’t pick it up as fast as the kids around me. I won’t name-drop, but my driving instructor made my life a living hell. There is no way to sugarcoat that. They would yell at me, ask me if I had ever even paid attention while sitting in the passenger’s seat, tell me they had no idea how to teach me because I wasn’t getting it after so many passes through the neighborhood, and make me feel like the scum of the earth. I remember a very specific thing they said to me that hit me like a truck. They asked me if I had a bike, or had ever gone go-karting before. If you read the title, you know that a very vital developmental moment never happened. I was in fifth grade, at 42Fifity staff member Carolina’s birthday party, the one time I tried to drive a go-kart myself. I crashed and bruised my chest. I started crying, but I thugged it out and drove another lap. So as you can imagine, I already knew I wasn’t normal at all, and that instructor made my feelings way worse. They made me cry once, and thank god I had a mask on that day. I waited until I was in my seat again and my body was numb and I plopped into my chair. I started to cry and the bell rang. I blasted music and cried on my way to Honors English 2 and I am so happy the room was dim and I was sitting in a corner. I cried under my mask and the urge to die was never stronger. The shame, the lack of motivation, the feeling of numbness throughout my whole body, it stuck. I wanted to die so incredibly badly, and I thankfully never did anything about it. I skipped Driver’s Ed and failed though. Oopsies. Yes, there’s a hideous F on my transcript, but at least I’m still alive.
We move on to junior year. I was feeling better, but I knew I still had to retake Driver’s Ed in the second semester. My first semester went fine, but I was still not in the best mental space and was chronically absent, like at the end of sophomore year. I would like to apologize to all my teachers for having to grade things so late and deal with my absences. My counselor saw the email I sent to all of my teachers and sent me to her office. She calmed me down and comforted me but she was also concerned that I wasn’t adjusted into the year and we were already in October- Another reminder I was painfully abnormal. Second semester rolls around, I finally got a therapist, and the coping mechanism of poetry I learned from Mrs. Holtz’s wonderful Spoken Word class sticks with me. Thank you so much for that, you made me feel seen and not so abnormal. Drivers Ed part two. Way better than I thought. I am so thankful for my therapist who helped me through it and so incredibly thankful that the school forgot that I had already taken the class and gave me a different instructor, even though I had to re-do a lot of drives. I suck at driving though, so I needed them. Thank you for actually teaching me how to drive and proving I was teachable.
Yes, after the drives I didn’t practice much. I also renewed my permit recently and didn’t wave to someone I knew at the DMV because I was so ashamed. But, now the whole school knows I can’t drive, so who cares? I will try to get my license over the summer, but I’m still pretty scared of driving. Maybe I should start therapy again before I try?
Senior year. It’s been going pretty well, but I’ve had my fair share of embarrassing moments, and I’m not about to admit to them this early. I despise myself when I remember the cringiest moments of the year, but again, at least I’m still alive.
I’d also like to add that I hope everyone I despise becomes a better person as we move on in life, and I wish only the best for you, but still never talk to me again. Get a therapist!
This is my first year publishing articles on 42fifty. I am in my senior year at Oswego High School. I am involved in a variety of extracurriculars, including WE Club, the Muslim Student Association, the Oswego High Coalition, and the National English Honors Society.
