By the time I began secondary school id come to several conclusions:
1)there is some huge major thing wrong with me.
2)whatever this thing is is whythis stuff happens
3)I wasn’t intentional, thus unwanted
4)therefore its my fault, and I deserve it all so I can’t complain.
5)I have nothing to offer the world, and it doesn’t have anything good to offer me so I withdraw from it
6)I can trust no-one.
So I began secondary school with no friends, but moving from a school with 23 people in my year group to one where there would be 330 in my year group, id hoped that those 23 people would find them some friends and forget about me.
As it was 12 forms,it turned out that there were 2 people from my old schoo. in every form except for one, which was in the other half of the year. And in each form the word spread that I was the lurg. By this point I convinced myself that I didn’t care – I didn’t need anyone. In truth all I was doing was crushing all these things into my heart, sealing it with myself on the outside. Through secondary school, the balance shifted away from violence, and more towards verbal, which I couldn’t distance myself from in the same way as I could the violence. The other big difference was that in a school of 1600+ kids, the whole of my year, and the year above hated me based on my reputation. So I worked. I threw myself into my books, and my homework, my music, reading anything that would keep me busy, because actually what people said hurt. Yes I deserved it, but I didn’t like not being given a chance at all.
It was in Y7 that the silence began. Because of the way I saw myself and the world, it was obvious that actually I have no right to a voice, no right to be heard and no right to an opinion. My place was in the shadows, and that was okay, because that was what I was accustomed to and that was what I deserved. I didn’t speak unless I was directly addressed by a teacher, and then it was a minimal response to convince them that things were okay and nothing was wrong. Possibly the hardest thing about this was that no-one noticed something was not right, specially my parents, who because id been declared something of a genius in primary school were now pushing me to achieve, so they were well pleased that I was in my books all the time. It sounds slightly contradictory because I never intended for someone to notice. The whole point was that no-one DID notice my existance because my existance was the problem in my eyes.
The way that my school worked was two buildings, the north building, home to humanities, english, technology, languages and upper school science, and some P.E, and the south building, home to the maths, lower school and all biology, creative arts, home ec, and some P.E. A large field separates the two, with a very narrow path, which indupitably got very muddy in winter when the field was out of bounds. I grew to hate that path with a passion. Each time I had to walk it, which was 5 times a day sometimes, id get pushed or kicked or punched by someone. As before, this became routine, and I just accepted it as standard. I was, however, beginning to get an inkling that the way in which I had chosent to deal with this was not foolproof.
No matter how many times I told myself that I was okay, and nothing could hurt me, I was hurting. The defenses I had set up were inadequate. So I hunted for some more. I decided that maybe if I actively became what people said I was, they would leave me alone. The only way I could think of to do this was to convince myself that I was all those things, and to be utterly honest, I probably didn’t take that much convincing. I was still silent, but I was beginning to see why people thought what they did. I was succeeding. I didn’t realise the consequences of this though. I had no outlet for any of the anger or the hurt, I just continued to push it away, and seal it in there.
Then came the first signs of eruption. A P.E lesson in the summer term of Y.8. The field had just been declared fit for summer sports, so we’d ended fitness (which by this point I didn’t like as I could no longer distance run cause I knackered my knee in the year before, which put an end to my vaguely promising cross country running career as hills were a problem), and all 6 forms had been sent to the hall, to sort out who was going to do what. We were all sat in the hall,and 5 or six people decided to methodically kick me in the back repeatedly. I sat, and told myself that it didn’t matter, that I didn’t care, that I deserved it . But it didn’t work. I was just starting to get angry, and I hadnt been angry before because the price I paid for numbing myself to what was going on was that I numbed myself to my emotions as well, but now I was, and I didn’t want to be angry, if anyhting and im not sure on the logic of this one I was most angry at myself for being there to make them misbehave… but I sat and fumed, determined not to give in to the growing fire inside, and then people began to tease as well, and as hard as I tried I couldn’t stop myself. I turned and I flew at the people in question. I don’t know what I did, because I wasn’t there, my anger had broken through and taken over and all I remember was Mr Morgan and Mr Hill [both 6’ plus and ex professional rugby players] dragging me off them and carrying me out of the room to the corridor. They had seen what had been going on and had decided to intervene in the hope that my retaliation would have stopped it, but when everyone started to laugh they realised it wouldn’t, and had to intervene. They were great about it, and said that it wasn’t my fault and I hadnt done anything wrong, but I was devestated. I’d failed. Id made a promise to myself never to hurt anyone who was doing this because I obviously deserved it, and id broken that promise. I’d also failed myself, because I was weak, and I hadnt been able to dull myself to it. So I made a new promise. To feel nothing. To care about nothing. To care about no-one. To trust no-one. I was setting myself up for a fall, quite literally.
I was alone, and I liked it that way. I couldn’t be disappointed. But in doing what I had done, I had removed all purpose from my life, and I was beginning to wonder why I was still here and still causing a problem. And then one lunchtime a group of people asked me that very question. I didn’t know, but if I wasn’t here, then that would make things better surely? So 2 days before the end of the year I found myself climbing out of my bedroom window, determined to jump off there and land on the concrete 30 foot below. As it was there was an intervention. I lost my footing, and in the next few moments found myself on the porch 6 feet to the right of the window sill I had been stood on and 6 feet down… a jump I had made myself once or twice before, and had gotten there from another window many times, so no-one wondered what I was doing there. As that had failed, I came to the conclusion that I was here for punishment, so just resolved harder to lock everythign away, and just get on with things. This time I managed to kind of succeed. I was numb. To everything, good and bad, of my own, of other peoples. I just needed to stay hidden.
Year nine saw things begin to change though. I was still working very hard to account for my silence and social inabilities, and had been noticed for music the year before, leading to a large role singing in the school show. This meant that I couldn’t just stay in the shadows as I wanted to but figured that if I could just keep people from asking questions it would be okay… and then I met Abbie. She was different. She wasn’t against me. She said she wanted to be my friend. A concept which was impossible. I couldn’t have a friend. It was against the rules. But she persisted, and we began to get to know each other. We spent a lot of time talking, and I slowly realised that I wasn’t totally alone. Abbie was actually quite similar to me in some ways. She had been jaded. Her circumstances were different, but she had also taken some of the same decisions I had taken. She had also taken some different ones. She wanted to feel, and couldn’t. So she cut herself. I didn’t find out about this for a while, but when I did, I was shocked – she seemed so happy and she had loads of friends. She also wanted to make herself be loved, so she didn’t eat so that people would notice her. I was torn in two. It seemed that no matter what I did, I was going to be in the same position. If I stepped back into the world things still wouldn’t be okay, but I didn’t have to make that choice just yet. I had been out of it for so long that I couldn’t go back. But I had made a friend. And things were a little more bearable, even if I was filled with this thought that it was going to end as soon as she found out what I was really like, and how everything really is my fault.
At the end of that year, Abbie told me that she was going to a camp for a week so she wouldn’t be here. That was okay with me, and then a guy I’d come into contact with occasionally for several years, John, got in touch with me and asked me if I wanted to go on a week’s holiday, which happy coincidence was the same week that abbie would be away, so I figured why not. I could cope being away with people I wouldn’t know other than John for a week quite okay. So I arrived at the bus station with my ruksack that morning, and met Abbie, who said she was waiting for the coach. I then noticed someone else from my school, and a lot of other people, and John. It then dawned on us that we were going on the same week away. Abbie and John went to the same church. As did several of the other people on the coach. I knew that this week was a “christian” camp, and having been to church a few times for carol services and church parades didn’t necessarily disagree with the idea of God existing, and knowing that actually I can shut myself off in my little world if I don’t like it had decided to go anyhow. Abbie then proceeded to introduce me to the rest of her friends, Martin, andrew, ben, laura, alice, katie, michelle, nigel, and nick. I realised that I wasn’t going to be able to be silent. So I decided to go for it. I wasn’t going to see any of these people again apart from abbie, and if she didn’t like it it wouldn’t be the greatest loss in the world. These people, and the leaders were all different, and as I spent time talking to them I realised that they really believed what they said about god, and jesus, and so I began to listen to them. I began to think about everything, and agreed with a lot of what they said, and so on the fourth night, I went off and sat in the grass outside, to think about things and whether or not I could ever be like these people that id met and if god would even care. After a while Alistair, one of the leaders came out to walk his dog, and we chatted a bit, and he told me that I didn’t have to be sorted out or really cool, and those things would come later. I found myself thinking about Abbie. She was amazing, and the only person to have offered me friendship, but she wasn’t totally sorted out. She had her own problems but she had something. I still wasn’t sure that I could ever be a tenth of what she was, but I figured that if anyone was capable of helping me get there it would be God. So I prayed and said that I wasn’t sure whether god would even want me , or would want to help make me a better person, but if he did then I was willing to let him, and later that evening, Abbie came up to me and said “God does want you, and he wants you to know that youre great and he loves you.” That convinced me. I hadnt told anyone what had happened yet abbie had answered the question I asked God. So I told her about it, and we talked, and I said that maybe I should go to church and find out more, so I started to go to King Centre, and over the two years I was there, I began to learn the lesson that maybe not everyone hates me.. but my defenses were still up, but I was learning that amongst all of these voices in my head reminding me of who I was, and why everyone hated me, I was beginning to be able to discern another voice, telling me to stick with it, and not to give in. After around eighteen months though, I’d learned a lot about God and what he wanted, that there is a plan for everyone, and about love, and gods nature, but in making the decision previously to not feel I couldn’t accept that, and I couldn’t understand it, but I was beginning to see it with the people I had tentatively begun to call my friends. I had joined a cell group, led by Abbie, and martin, and with andrew and nigel these were the people I would consider my friends, and the others in the group certainly werent enemies. But then the unthinkable happened. Friendship was abused. This cut like a knife, as I had foolishly figured that nothing could go wrong, I felt betrayed and abused. I wondered how I could have been so stupid to have not seen it coming. Even with these guys the same things happened.
As school progressed so did what was going on. I stayed silent. Once or twice i looked to see what would happen if i didnt, and the results were unfavourable, so once again i retreated back into myself, where i knew it was safe and no-one could hurt me. But this became harder as i began to meet people outside of the school environment who urged me to try and change things.
Very slowly this began to happen. In the last 6 months of my school life at meadowhead, i began to talk of my own volition, at times when it wasnt necessary, but because i wanted to, and while i knew it was too late for meadowhead, i hoped that this would enable me to go to the next place with some confidence that this may well be a new start.
