Showing posts with label teen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teen. Show all posts

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Finding balance

"Hold still", the doctor said. "This won't be painful at all. I'll just be pumping water in to your ear".

A machine gurgled and hummed behind me as I held a dish up to my ear. I had been dreading this for the past day. The words 'ear syringing' had me conjuring images of oversized hypodermic needles being shoved in to each ear, before they slowly drained me of my life.

In reality, it was similar to a wet willy crossed with a very small tropical storm.

I was suffering - two infected ears, resulting in an infected throat. The last few weeks had been intense. As previously mentioned, I started college at the end of September, considerably later than my fellow classmates. Life before college involved ... Well, not preparing for college, that's for sure. I was diving head first in to a course I had wanted since I was a nipper, and a city I'd hoped to live in for as long as I can remember. So incredibly idyllic ... What could possibly go wrong?

College has been incredibly difficult so far. I completely underestimated just how monumental a change it is. I was going from a quiet country home with just my parents, to sharing an apartment with four strangers in the city. My first night had involved making awkward small talk in the hopes of convincing my house mates that I was a decent person - you could have smelled the desperation off me. By half 10, I was in bed watching kids TV shows on Netflix, wondering whether I was cut out for three years of this. I was uncomfortable and anxious and my fears were mounting.

I had always liked school. My mam told me that, even as a young child, it was just in me to study and to work. I never needed much encouragement. I thrived on doing well and succeeding - praise was the icing on the academic cake. I wanted to make my teachers and my family proud, (even now, I still feel like my intelligence is my only redeeming quality). Before college, I had never failed an exam. Starting college, I failed my first three or four assignments. Concentrating in certain modules was impossible. I would leave the lecture hall dazed and confused as to what I had just sat through. When I eventually started passing them, I only just passed. I felt like the rug had been pulled from under me. I wondered whether my old school would take me back, and keep me as a permanent fixture in the school.

Why was I complaining? I had made it to college! I had gotten my first choice! My parents had paid x amount of money to get me there and house me! I felt like grabbing myself by the scruff of the neck and giving myself a good shake. I had my mam on the phone constantly telling me that if I was finding it too hard, or wasn't enjoying the course, that I should tell her sooner rather than later.

But that wasn't it. I liked my course. It was hard, but I still can't imagine myself doing anything else other than journalism.

And another thing - why was I being such a moody sod to my friends about staying in contact, seeing as I was struggling myself to return calls and reply to text messages to myself? Why was I so surprised when they were busy themselves? Their lives didn't revolve around me, as much I wanted to believe that they did. To top it all off, I was constantly getting thick with my mam on the phone, as she tried to extract information from me about how college was going and how I was. Drawing blood from a stone doesn't even cover it, let me tell you.

It was during my reading week (essentially a week off), that things came to a head. Before and during my exams, I experienced very mild anxiety. I would get incredibly sad and anxious for no real reason, and this would be brought on by stress. I couldn't control my breathing, and it felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. Because I was doing little else but sleeping, watching TV and staying inside, my anxiety started to affect me again. I felt hopeless, alone and began agonising over things. I felt like I was swamped with work, when the reality of the situation I had finished all my assignments. I was painfully lonely, as my friends attended school or college.

When my mam found out (through Twitter, I might add - I am a horrible child), she was worried. But to be honest, she was my saving grace. I had found no solace in anything else. And then I spoke to her, and it felt like coming up for air. I didn't feel stupid talking about it. She brought me out, took me shopping and talked and talked and talked so I wouldn't have to. All my concern seemed to dissipate, my self loathing eased.

College has opened my mind to a lot of things. You can't assume any thing about any one. You don't know where they've come from or their walk of life. You will face challenges and struggles - some explainable, some not at all - but everything can be overcome. My mam's favourite expression is, "there's no such thing as a big problem; just a serious of little problems".

I lost my balance for a bit. But I think I've got it back. Being to able to spend time with my friends at home has been hugely important, and reaffirmed that I must have done something right to have them as comrades. My room mates have turned out to be fantastic people, and there's even talk of living together next year. The people on my course are like-minded and seek the same things as I do.

It's satisfying to know that I'm back on track. I'm terrified of what's ahead. I still think about whether or not I'm cut out for this; whether or not I'll be good enough. But every one falls down at some stage - be sure that you're the person that gets back up again.

"Wow!" the doctor exclaimed., "would you believe, that was my fastest ear syringe ever! Sometimes you can be hours at it trying to get the stuff out".

"I'm honoured", I smirked.

Read more from me at studenthandbookblog.wordpress.com

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Friday, July 5, 2013

This is not a test

"Graduation?" My mam snorted incredulously. "You graduate from college, not secondary school!"

For me, however, I felt the only way to describe this incredibly melodramatic transition from student to mere mortal as a 'graduation'. As we all sat in the dining assembly crying our eyes out, (No? Just me? It's not news to ye that I'm a massive loser anyway), I found it difficult to envision life beyond the classrooms, the teachers, the students and the school that had, essentially, made me who I am. Afterwards, I joked about asking if I could stay on permanently, hidden away in a supply cupboard, content with my life as a good student.

My graduation marked the end of an incredibly challenging year for myself and my fellow Leaving Cert students. It also marked the beginning of the exams themselves. From January onwards, the stress of school, as well as other factors, built up enormously. As someone who is renowned for putting herself under a great deal of pressure when it comes to tests, the Leaving Cert just didn't seem like something I would, in the end, be physically able to do. Months of exam papers, predictions, rants, oral examinations, practicals and scouring for universities would all boil down to a week's worth of exams for me. "These are the exams that will define you and decide your future!" they told us.

I'm sorry, but that is bullshit.

As much as the SEC, your teachers and the Department of Education wants you to believe that the world is going to spontaneously stop the day you and 1 get our results - it won't. Life doesn't begin after the Leaving Cert. It never has, and it never will. In that week in August, if it turns out that I have indeed fail Maths, there is no doubt that I will be exceptionally disappointed. But I know that life will go on, and in my final hours it won't be remembered that I failed Maths in my Leaving Cert. Sure, if you can tell me all the characteristics of a desert biome, I'm thrilled for you. But the Leaving Cert doesn't measure human qualities - how funny, nice, selfless or determined you are.

I am now at a point in my life where I believe I am facing an even bigger test than the Leaving Cert itself. I am approximately half a month into my summer break, and I have found myself teetering in the middle of some kind of emotional see-saw. I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen over the next few weeks. Summer is always given such an air of importance among people my age - between its temporary nature, the good weather and the freedom, it is truly a unique time where anything is possible. For the most part, my life is now limitless - no restraints such as exams, study or school work to hold me back. What am I going to make of myself? What am I going to become?

Scary prospect, isn't it?

I'm not asking much of this summer. I want to enjoy myself, after what can only be defined as 6 months of torture. I want to spend as much time with my friends as possible, as I will going to college in Dublin and they will be facing into exams themselves. I want to drink copious amounts and inevitably puke on myself - again. I wish to attend every concert under the sun, and travel: the thoughts of spending my summer in this small (and equally small-minded) shithole feels me with dread. I will work, and, in turn, waste spend all my money on frivolous items. I am not a person who buys into the idea of having 'no regrets'. My whole life is basically a tidy collection of regrets big and small. I can only hope that I won't add too many more to my list this summer. I want to laugh loudly and not have to be sorry about it. I want this summer to teach me more about the world and myself than 5 years of education ever could.

This summer will be the ultimate learning curve. As a 17 year old with a seven year old mind with a fantastic memory, but lacking in 'street smarts', I need to learn my place, and ultimately, make better decisions, in order to succeed in college and beyond.

Not entirely sure how I'm supposed to study for that, mind ...


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Sunday, February 24, 2013

Prologue (*)

This is the first piece of fiction I've written in a while. More importantly it's the first piece of fiction that I have been genuinely excited about. It's the prologue to a story that has been churning in my mind for some time - it's just a matter of putting pen to paper really, (or should that be fingers to keys? Hmm). Whether the entire story ever comes to fruition is another story altogether, (what a shameless, shameless pun), but hopefully it will. Maybe after school and exams ... Anyways! Enough nonsensical jabber! I hope you enjoy.



When I think of him, there's one particular memory that stands out above all the others ...



"I love it when you cut off my air supply like this. It's really attractive".

A voice beneath me murmured. I shivered. The wind was punishing me for wearing so little clothing, (nothing new there).

I began to laugh, and continued to do so. Uncontrollably. It hung in the air like cathedral bells, loud and boisterous, (nothing new there either, my signature laugh was infamous).

I lay there. surrounded by several other friends, the majority of whom were enjoying the wonders of underage drinking outdoors. My discarded Jones' bottles lay next to my equally jaded naggin bottle of Huzzar. One of the girls had gone down the other end of the field for a piss - you know, the usual.

"Hey Logan?"

"Yes dear?"

"Wanna know the difference between soda and vodka?"

"Of course".

"Two letters"

Logan laughed politely.

"Not that you'd know". I buried my head into his chest. "Too busy being a dry-balls to drink with me".

"Sorry. Next time. I promise".

We were silent for a few moments, the soundtrack of our friends' chatter in the background.

"Logan?"

"Hmmm?"

"... How do you please a man?"

Logan paused, pensive for a moment, before replying:

"Watch a lot of porn".

More cathedral bell/drowning donkey laughter.

"No but seriously", he said, stroking my hair, "you'll be fine. Honestly. You're perfect".

I looked up at him, struggling to keep focus as I did so. "Thanks", I smiled.

"Seriously though, I think one of my lungs has collapsed".

"Are you calling me fat?!"

"No!" Logan exclaimed, "I just - "

"You know Logan, it's time like these that I really think we shouldn't be friends. Because you're horrible to me. ALL THE TIME ... Don't look at me like that! I could revoke your friendship card like THAT!"

I rolled off of him and closed my eyes, filled with a warmth that only he could provide.



This isn't our story, nor is it my own.

This is his story that I promised him.


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Monday, February 11, 2013

Legacy

"Oh, you're the one who puked all over herself at Christina's!"

While I was doing my best to cheer up a girl I barely knew in the bathroom of a club at the weekend, she quickly remembers how it is that she knows me - being an absolute mess.

I have written about said-puking experience before - if you haven't read it, allow me to redirect you.

What she said got me thinking. You're probably aware having read previous posts that I am extremely conscious as to what people think of me and it affects me a lot. I stopped and asked myself at that moment - what will I be remembered for?

The saying goes that the good you do is never acknowledged, and the bad you do is never forgotten and I can't help but feeling this applies to me. I obsess over the things I have done wrong or am doing wrong. The good pales in comparison to the bad.

Didn't Beyoncé sing something about 'leaving footprints in the sands of time'? I mean, that's all well and good if you're Beyoncé, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm not actually Beyoncé. What about me?

Will I be immortalised as 'the girl that puked all over herself at an 18th she was invited to solely because of her boyfriend'? 'That girl that kissed too many boys in one night'? 'That attention-seeking girl who asked about ass tattoos on Twitter'? 'The one who bit that girl in Senior Infants, who broke someone's heart on New Year'a Eve, who constantly told lies, was an awful friend and who laid her dignity on the line for the sake of being liked by shallow spiteful people'?

Maybe not. Maybe I'll be 'the girl that got the highest results in her Junior Cert that one time'. Or 'the girl who loved people to the point of no return'. 'The girl who would do ANYTHING for her friends and family'. 'The one who sang Ave Maria, made stupid Batman impressions and never forgot anybody's birthday'.

Maybe.

Maybe it would just be better to be forgotten.

'The girl that never was'.

Friday, February 1, 2013

My Life In Pictures #2 - Shave Or Dye 2013

Earlier this month, my friend Cormac partook in Today FM's Shave Or Dye 2013 campaign, in order to raise money for the Irish Cancer Society. I was tasked with the job of rinsing out the dye. All in all, we raised €56. Not too shabby, eh?