I think it was around middle school when I started noticing it. The weird looks other girls gave me, the whispers behind my back, the way some of my friends were slipping away. I had had a feeling it would happen someday, that we'd all get older and start going our separate ways at the crossroads life took us to. But I never expected it to get ugly.
I did my best to remain kind and caring, but inside, it hurt to see people I loved start to drift away. Despite that, I pushed the pain away and kept my emotions to myself. I learned to make others happy, but I'm doing so, I forgot how to make myself happy.
When we got to high school, I stayed with people I knew from elementary school. I still had my original Snapchat account and its contacts page was mostly made of old friends. I wanted to fit in, just like everyone else, so I tried to be active on it. I saw a challenge where you posted pictures of you and your friends for each category, and made the absent-minded mistake of writing "ignore Emma," as she wasn't meant to be in one of the photos I posted. My absent-mindedness, however, caused my relationships to go down the drain and I lost about 10 good friends. I tried to move on and joined a new group of friends, only to find the 'Queen Bee' hated me for really no reason aside from the fact I was there. The members of this group made plans in front of me, never once inviting me along or giving me a "next time, I promise" when I asked to come. But that 'next time' never came. I got so fed up with the mistreatment I was receiving that I made the comment to one of my friends that I wanted to push the 'Queen Bee' out of a window because of how badly she got on my nerves. This friend told the Queen Bee, and I was banished from the group. I reconnected with a true friend - making another in the process - but my past still haunted me. When the weather turned nice again, I started to spend some of my lunches at "Smokers' Corner" instead of inside. It was nice to eat by the creek in the park, and I could begin to enjoy myself again.
My mental health, however, was shot. I had given up hope of having true friends and was waiting for the ones I had to tell me to get lost, too. I closed myself off, remaining mostly to myself, and crying myself to sleep 9 nights out of 10. It hurt to be living like that, but I was too afraid of what my parents might say to cry out for the help that I desperately needed. I turned to online friends, but even that pushed me further into the mental prison of depression I was beginning to build myself. In spite if this, I made myself a promise: no matter how many tears I cried each night, I would show up at school each morning with a smile on my face. Because I knew nobody would care, even if they knew.
Eventually, I began to crack and went so far as to write my suicide note. I didn't plan to kill myself; it was my way of trying to release my pain. I planned to burn it the next time I was home alone. However, my mom found the note before I could do so. She and my dad sat me down, and I admitted how horrible my mental state had become and practically begged them to let me change schools. They told me the only reason they had sent me to the public high school I was attending was because all my friends were going there, but that they'd never have sent me if they'd known how miserable I was. I did a 'shadow day' at the Catholic high school, and was in love with being able to attend the Catholic school in my junior year. When my junior year arrived, I made friends quickly and was welcomed with open arms. I received so much love on my first day that I began to feel free again, and openly began to give love back to my schoolmates. I still remained reserved, as I was still nervous that my past from public school would follow me; to this day, I'm still scared about making new friends.
When the Coronavirus hit, it opened a window for me to do some reflecting; not just on what I take for granted, but on my relationships. In doing so, I've discovered how to revive the relationship I have with myself. While looking at my relationships from my first two years of high school, I remembered some of the advice my mom had given me: the people who put me through the misery of my first two years of high school were just jealous of me. That was when that advice clicked with me. My haters didn't hate me, they hated themselves, because I was a reflection of what they wanted to be.
And so, people of my past: I'd like to say that I've learned a lot from you.
— I've learned that I don't have to be positive all the time, that's it perfectly okay to feel sad, angry, annoyed, scare or anxious.
— I've learned that having feelings doesn't make me a negative person, it makes me human.
— I've learned that we cry not because we're weak, but because we've been strong for too long.
— I've learned that if people know you're hurting and/or probably crying yourself to sleep at night, they don't actually care about you.
But most importantly, I've learned how to value my present and look forward to my future - to love myself for all my perfections and flaws, talents and strengths.
Yes, I've changed. I've changed because the old me was too weak to handle this shit. I know you may think I'm being cold, but I'm merely putting my defenses up to you and protecting my soul. Sometimes, you've got to listen to your guts and be okay with no one understanding why you're doing so. If there's anyone I owe an apology to for this letter, it's me. I owe myself an apology for all the ways I let you hurt me and all the ways I hurt myself. I've made myself a new promise: I will be good enough to forgive, but I refuse to be stupid enough to trust you again.
Dear people from my past, thank you for the memories that have taught me to save myself the pain of seeing you again. All I ask is you let me know what you think of this letter. Here's hoping you never again go astray on life's highway.
Sincerely,
Ann
