My day started off horribly: I didn’t get the work sent to me for French so I had to run back to the “unit for us blind people” as I call it, and then I wanted to sob insanely because I got overwhelmed. I got really upset, because I have to do so much work: both to catch up and work outside of school to help me understand the subject.
But you know what? Now, I’m HAPPY. There are a few reasons why.
I panicked a bit earlier. I walked into the common room – for some reason I thought it was a great idea to go there, despite not knowing where my friends were. I felt everything go numb, I walked straight back out and leaned against the wall, trying to reconcile with myself that my breathing was too shallow and that I was getting frantic. A girl who I always thought thought I was stupid came up to me and asked if I was okay: not the patronising tone of someone who doesn’t care, but of someone who genuinely wants to know. “Are you waiting for someone?” she asked, and I said “Probably.” I knew she cared, even a little bit, which made me more happy than I can say because my classmates aren’t actually awful people.
After my French lesson from hell, I felt as if I was going to burst into tears. I went to the unit, met the other VI guy in my year (coincidentally we’re friends) and we chatted a little. I explained to him that in order to be able to stop myself from panicking, I had to DO something: that French homework, reading a book for English, anything that’ll make me feel productive. He didn’t quite get it, and asked if I practiced mindfulness – I don’t and I told him that it didn’t really work for me. Him trying to understand really made me feel better, because I was talking through my thought processes.
The head of VI (what we also call the unit) then came into the room and talked things out with me. She helped me to realise that I couldn’t do everything and it WAS hard, that I didn’t have to put so much pressure on myself but that she understood. That, coupled with Oak’s understanding, made it seem not so terrifying. I think I feel more positive now; I’ll have to catch up with French, plus do all the other extra work for my subjects, but I can do it. No crying, no fear; the only problem I’ll have is telling teachers I’m struggling. I still can’t do that much.
Every Friday since about midway through Year 11, a lot of my friendship group and I go to something we affectionately call ‘gay club’ – where LGBTQ+ people go to a classroom. I mean, we literally just hang out and yell a lot, but it’s great. Today, Wren brought cake and so 20 or so people turned up – some of which were straight but that didn’t matter – and there was the usual shrieking and I have no idea what most of the people were actually doing.
What was different about today was that someone knew turned up. She’s repeating year 12, and is friends with the year 13s that originally started the club (we’re all connected through various friendship groups) and she and I spent ages talking. She’s lovely, and we spoke about sexuality and how I call myself bisexual, but really, it’s not as defined as all that and it’s okay. She says it’s doubtful she’ll be coming back next week, but that we’d definitely see each other again; talking to someone new amongst people who were my friends was the greatest feeling because I was showing someone, who didn’t know before, who I was. I walked around the room a bit, mystified as to why my friends were piggy-backing each other across the floor and literally screaming, but then I returned to talk to her, Wren and a few others.
On the way to form, I laughed so hard that I nearly sobbed. I was walking with a friend – I called her Swan once so we’ll stick with it. She’s the type of person who you think is brilliantly insane, with crazy ideas that people look at her strangely for. However, she’s a really lovely person and has become a good friend to me the past few months: she laughs like a seagull, screams about Karl Marx, writes pisstake fanfictions about Donald Trump – but she’s ridiculously intelligent. We were walking to form, and I crashed into someone by accident. Because I’m cool, I full-on screamed (I was shocked okay!) which prompted so much laughter that I could barely stand up. It was just what I needed, honestly.
Today was also eventful (I sound like a news reporter ARGH) because I trusted someone with the fact that I had a blog. Pretty much the only friend I have in my form, he’s very thoughtful and just generally nice, though he was a bit of a dick to Willow so I’m not too happy about that. However, I was chatting to him about my difficulty with accompanying myself on piano when I sing, and we had the most lovely conversation. This is a paraphrase of what he said:
“You don’t write songs just to write them. Write them so that it’s genuine, so that people can tell it’s just from you rather than from just anyone. You can start simple, because sometimes, simplicity is the better option. Don’t try and overcomplicate things.” As always, he’s so right; I told him I had a blog because he’d said he doesn’t show anyone his songs, because of how personal they are. I can relate, with my songs and blog, and I told him that. It was lovely, because he just wasn’t bothered: he treated it like it was worth talking about, and didn’t dismiss it.
Despite the shitty start, my day ended amazingly. Laughing in history with Red, getting home and reading, and not feeling like the whole world is collapsing in on me like I did this morning. I mayh too much work to do, but that can wait for now; I’ll concentrate on myself for now.
If you’re having a bad day, try and look at the positives. Yes, it may just be one thing in a sea of negatives, but let that one thing make you happier. Some days are just awful, but in every day, there can be a reason to smile and bloody well be happy: I learnt that today. And if you can’t find a reason, you can make one.
Sometimes, days that you think will end up with you crying in a corner can, really, end with you remembering laughter.
From Elm 🙂