When I began freshman year in high school I wanted out. There were too many annoyances with the people around me. Too many of my peers didn’t know who they wanted to be like or who they were. It was my first time being in a public school. During middle school I went to a private school where I was required to wear a uniform. My parents lost their home during the 2008 financial crisis. We had to move from Victorville, CA to Hesperia, CA. Not a far jump but I no longer was in the same school district to continue the private school I was going to. My entire family was depressed.
My father and mother commuted from Los Angeles to Hesperia, but the financial crisis was hard. Sometimes they couldn’t afford the gas money to come back home. So, they would sleep in their car for a week, and I would see them during the weekends. Don’t worry. My half-brother would take “care” of me. My parents had to do this. It was the only way to sustain a roof over our heads and feed us.
middle school us
Starting public school without my best friend Melissa, her along with her family wasn’t exciting. I didn’t have the chance to see them all the time anymore. They were always so good to me. They took care of me by feeding me, clothing me, and helping me flourish into a brighter young girl. I was alone, again battling the horrors of public school.
I wanted to focus on the school curriculum and do my best to get A’s. Everyone else was too busy gossiping, bullying, and fitting in to whatever cliques they belonged to. I was depressed. The reality of my household situation was harsh.
My mother and father were the first generation to come to the United States of America from Mexico. They slaved away as fruit pickers for 5-7 years to get their permanent residency. Then after being together for 6 years they finally had me in 1994. I was birthed in the City of Angeles. Hard work and planned out saving strategies allowed them to finally buy their home in Victorville, CA. We left at a great time. The peak of L.A. gang violence and drug activity was taking the lives of people in our neighborhood. They did not want their son in high school to be close to that or have their daughter grow up around that. We moved when I was in 4th grade. I was okay with it. I didn’t have many friends. I was too shy to make a great impression on anyone.
4th grade me before moving
We lost it all in 2008. The home that I would inherit to finish paying off in my late 20s. My dad’s college fund for me. The foundation my parents built for me; second generation first born in the United States of America…now broke, and I no longer had the luxury of having an easy life. I had to worry about how to be a home owner when I grew up. I also had to worry about whether we were going to be homeless soon if my parents got laid off due to the economy crisis. I cared too much about my studies to focus on who gave who a blow job that week, who jumped out of the closet, and came out as gay or lesbian. I just wanted to listen to everything my teachers were trying to teach me.
Too much background noise from people who never cared from the start annoyed me. Coming late into the middle of the school year and before a major holiday break was a bad idea. Too many people would want to know about the “new girl”. I wasn’t having it. I shut everyone out. People were quick in trying to have me join a clique. I just wanted to be myself. The financial crisis did not reach their households. I asked around without letting people know my circumstance if their parents were affected by the financial crisis. Everyone giggled and said, “No. I’m fourth generation or sixth generation. We’re fine!” I had no one to relate to. I felt fucked with a whole lot of depression. I tapped out.
After begging my parents to let me go to independent studies they let me. I swooped myself out of that noise. I hopped my way over to Options for Youth... Public Charters Schools. I was excited. Finally, a place for me to just focus on learning, and not deal with bullshit. I did well there I was a straight A student. I had a wonderful teacher there his name was Bob. He always would try to entice me on going back to public school. He’d say, “Hey, Raquel you’re a great student and all. I really enjoy teaching you, but you know you’re on track with your classes, and you can go back to regular school.”
I’d laugh it off and always tell him, “Thanks but no thanks.” He thought I was bullied. I guess he thought I was a “nerd” always picked on, struggled with not fitting in, and such. I let him think that. I learned in peace. Sometimes there was no food in the house, but I was happy knowing my G.P.A. was strong, because I knew I already had to start fighting now for scholarships for college. I enjoyed making cupcakes for Bob, the two years I was there, especially on his birthday. He had an unacknowledged life as a teacher in independent studies by his students (not by me). His face would light up so much when I would make him cupcakes especially on his birthday. When I went back home I had to face the dark realities of my family’s financial situation.
What did I do to numb the pain? I cut myself. What did I do to pass the time that seemed endless in insecurity? I abused sleeping pills. Time passed me by. From time to time Melissa would visit for sleepovers, I would spend time at her house during vacations, and it was lovely. I had a safe space at her house in her home. Her family was so welcoming and being under their home reminded me what normal was. Melissa knew about me cutting but she didn’t know about the sleeping pills. She stopped me when I was too out of control with depression with her sincere friendship. She reminded me how to smile, laugh, and alongside her I knew how to be at ease. Things I couldn’t tap into when I was home. At home my voice didn’t matter. My parents were gone. My half-brother was a drug addict who would be so angry with my existence. He would not feed me, take me to school (I had to scooter my way to school, no not with an electric one), and he would be so verbally abusive. Sleeping pills were a great way to also escape him.
Eventually, my parents couldn’t afford to rent, and we had to move to Whittier, CA. I said good-bye to Bob. He was sad to see me go but he appreciated the time we had together. I enjoyed coming to him for help on homework or to just chat about the economy. I said see you later to Melissa and her family because let’s face it, Melissa, she was family.
My parents and I were now renting a small room from a family friend at their home. My half-brother had moved out. I jumped back into independent studies for 11th grade at Sierra Vista High School. I stopped cutting when we moved and abusing sleeping pills. I matured I suppose from having dependency on things that did me harm in exchange for escapism. I still hung out with Melissa. I would visit her to spend spring breaks, summer breaks, holiday breaks, and winter breaks with her.
Being in Los Angeles County was so different than being in the desert of Hesperia, CA. People were always alive, rustling through the atmosphere of a big city, and there were so many places to go to. I loved being an independent studies student here. I had flexibility. I would be able to visit my local bookstore, write poetry, read my poetry at open-mics, and explore little thrift stores. I had another great teacher Mrs. Arlene Soto Smith. I would take her creative writing classes and I made friends there too. It was a good fix!
But my depression was coming back… my parents were still working to the bone to sustain the little space we had. It was a fight to not get into homelessness in our rented room. Now I was too far away from Melissa and her family’s help. There was this one time where I was in a bad place, Melissa’s mom drove all the way from Apple Valley, CA to Whitter to pick me up, and take care of me. She was another mother to me. I love her still.
In the middle of 11th grade I managed to go to prom at Melissa’s school with a permission slip. I was a third wheel to her and her boyfriend’s (at the time) date with each other, but an appreciated third wheel. 12th grade started, and Melissa and I got too busy trying to graduate, while juggling having a boyfriend. I got my first boyfriend (my now husband) so our schedules had bias. We didn’t talk as much but we still texted. My parents finally got an apartment and were financially stable again. I was starting to recognize happiness again.
Alright! Senior year :)
I decided to join a mentor program at my high school during the last semester of senior year. I had mentees who were freshman naive young girls who were so pretty. They just wanted to ditch school and kiss boys. I was responsible to motivate them to come to school. After realizing they were struggling with figuring out life but not opening up… I shared with them in class the challenges I overcame, this entire reflection you just read, and they cried. I realized if I wanted them to open up I had to open up so they won't feel scared about no one understanding. Why? Some of them were cutting themselves, taking drugs, and ditching school because of personal family problems as well. It touched them to know that they can figure it out sooner than I did too by just trying. Those girls did! I'll have you know they went back to normal public school and graduated well on time.
I want to share important life tips I learned by myself as a teenager that helped me battle through depression:
- Yes, there might be nothingness in you right now, but do not forget about the hope that is yet to come. There are so many people you have yet to meet, so many people you have yet to love, and so many people who will come to love you. Although, they are not here now they will come, and that is so exciting to know.
- Reach out for help. Don't be afraid to ask the ones around you that you trust and love for help. They will help you. It's not humiliating to need help from time to time. There is kindness in the hearts you've learned to know and love. Don't doubt that about humanity.
- One day you will learn to love yourself. If it's so hard to believe anyone can love you...then start by loving yourself each day a little more than yesterday. The day you wake up and realize that you accept yourself will be a glorious day. It may seem so far away from now but... it will come and it will be beautiful. Just keep working on finding your diffusion methods that stabilize your symptoms or minimize them.
- find a hobby: mine was poetry, open-mics, video games, and writing workshops
- exercise running is good for you especially when you're depressed
- talk to a professional
- journal keep track of your growth and challenges you've overcome
- eat healthy clean foods because bad foods rob you of vitamins that let you secrete serotonin
If you're in a rut and it's too late at night to reach out for help consider calling a crisis hot-line to follow through with professional help. However, please know the steemian community (this includes me), most of us are here to listen, or to be your friend. Let's all be kind to one another and trust me it will all get better soon. It just takes time. Our lives are so short that soon seems so far away from now but it's not.