i will miss social and having a year book, freshers week, advanced higher exams, the things that make up one of most exciting years of your life.
sometimes i wish i could have all those things, but i think i want them purely for the purpose of having a reason to fit in, a topic to discuss; to moan about prefect incompentance and worry over failing bio and laughing at the winner of "most likely to end up in prison."
i imagine being called mummy (if damages reverse) and i realise i won't have a last year of school to tell of, nor a first year of uni at this rate.
i want only the best for those friends moving on, but am i jealous them?
but to say always would be a lie. there are times when i realise i owe this past year a lot. i know private school friend's going to oxford and cambridge, other who have been hurt and abused. i know fifteen year old's from the worst estates who've been stabbed, they're memories as fragmented as their scarred backs. i know people who take drugs for "fun" and those who take them to forget. i can see now how everyone is human; that the middle aged lady opposite me in combined assessment was still an alcoholic because of a health system that ignores her rather than by her own making. i can stand up to people, i can scream and shout. not yet very loudly but that will come i believe. before i was sheltered, i went to a middle-class school where neither poles of society were defined. we sat in the middle, most of the people i grew up with still do.
there are connections upon connections all tangled in my head. like the friend who committed suicide who left behind someone so fragile i'm scared to let her go. ki, pinkfluff needs you. why'd you have to go?
or the ones who text: "how are you?"; "love you sweetheart"; "i made myself sick"; "dr is a knob"; "i was going to take an overdose"; "we're moving to the place where IT happened"; "take care of yourself"; "how are you really?".
i can't cope with your problems but i love you all so i do. here, i am needed.
yes, i wish i had a social, to go for one evening and feeling like a seventeen year old should.
but without this last year, i would still be the anorexic girl. granted, i am that too even now but at least i don't feel quite as paper thin. i don't cry myself to sleep anymore, i take that as a positive.
i'm not saying i know people or understand them, to be perfectly honest people as a collective scare me half to death and i haven't the foggiest how to talk to them. but if you spend sixth year not ina school but an acute psychiatric ward with psychosis and depresion, personality disorders and anorexia, self-harm and bipolar you kinda get to know a little more about humanity i think.
not a lot but enough to suffice the losses you created around yourself in your madness.
i might not have a final dance or last day of school but i'm not quite as naive as i once was.
and would i change it?
no. i've met some of the most interesting people you'd know.
- ▼ May (3)