In order to make this post math related: I should be in Analysis right now. But I am not. I went on a run after biology and completely forgot my class started at 1 and not 2 and mid-run my phone was like, Yo bitch, you shoulda left for yo’ class like 30 minutes ago.
So here I am, thinking about things.
The big talk is this Netflix show Thirteen Reasons Why. Shit is depressing as fuck. It’s a damn reality check and I am two shows in. I mean there are so many literal parallels (from the name of the high school to the job at the movie theater with the same uniform (always butter flavoring, never butter)) to my high school life, it’s ridiculous. I had to actually google the author of the book to make sure I didn’t go to high school with him and he secretly hated me so wanted to chronicle my epic high school experience. (I didn’t, he’s like 10 years older than me and grew up 300 miles away.)
And let’s talk about how they filmed parts of this show 20 minutes from the house I grew up in. I feel suspicious as fuck.
But what is universal is this loneliness, the helplessness. This theme of action-reaction without thought. I’ve lost friends who’ve jumped to conclusions. I have been judged for my level of sexual activity (whether it’s an abundance of or lack of). I have been on a list. I have been told to just move on.
How do you move on from your life?
Now I don’t know how the rest of this show goes on, cuz I am just a few episodes in, but here’s how this story goes:
I was depressed in high school. At home, my dad was sick. I was at hospitals, doing medication routines, doctor’s appointments, helping my mom…etc. By sophomore year, I never really had a desire to do the high school experience because I felt it would be a burden. But I did a few to keep the façade up. I didn’t tell my friends, I didn’t tell my teachers. Occasionally, when things got especially hectic, my mom would call the office and request the usual e-mail of “Things are happening, just be aware”. (I actually have no idea what’s in this e-mail, I just knew when they happened because of the reactions.)
But I never did anything. I went to school, kept quiet, was the funny one with my friends, went home, did my duties, then went to my room and cried. Never in front of my family or friends. No one really knew the extent of everything until my dad died my senior year.
I took that year off, post graduation then never went to any college I was accepted to (that is a post for another day), instead enrolled at a community college. Once again, I never told my professors what was going on. Why I suddenly dropped biology as my major, or just before transferring, withdrew mid-semester.
My mom had cancer and I had to take care of her and my brother. I went home, did my duties, went to my room and cried. Only this time, I also drank a lot. Heyyy 21.
1 year turned into 7 years. Now I am back in school for now the second year. I transferred and 3 months ago my doctor found precancerous cells. (Like really, fuck genetics. My family couldn’t have given me something cool. Like…a fast metabolism or x-ray vision? I got fat arms, that one chin hair, and cervical cancer. God. The worst.) I refuse to take medical leave, I refuse to ask for extensions. I just don’t want to sit back at the end and wonder if I made it as a mathematician because I did it or because I had people feel sorry for poor sick me and carry me along. So I still tell no one and cry. (Not all true, I have a therapist this time. But I much rather be the happy, funny friend then the one who rains on everyone’s parade with her sad, shitty life. So what if it’s shit…I can still get my smile in.)
Note: Therapy is actually the reason I started this blog. I told my therapist I felt I was using time to bitch about school when the point of the sessions was to talk about being sick and possibly never having children. At least that’s what they told me to do. But I feel as if I still bitch about school there. Hey, maybe I’ll bitch about my possible sterilization here.
I don’t know how this post went from this oddly specific show about suicide to my current medical issues but damn, the show does make me happy that in my depression I never took any action on my dark depressing thoughts. Because in that darkness, your own mind turns on you.
Seeing now what I have been through, I have no regrets.
Did it suck major dick? HELL YES. Would I want to go through it again? FUCK NO. But I still have that lonely, helpless suicidal high school girl deep inside. I suspect she’s the one who gets me all anxious about math and makes me doubt myself. But we’re working on that.
And that is what keeps me going. To just work on it.