I consider my two years in middle school the ‘dark years’. I’ll elaborate more in the third chapter of my life story, which I’m currently writing and editing.
Anyway, I can’t really put into words how much I hate thinking about my middle school years. The only reason I don’t wish the years would just somehow disappear from my life is because I met a majority of my current friends now in seventh grade. I know it sounds like I’m being overly dramatic but I really hated those two years, sometimes a little more than my year at the private Catholic school in the Philippines.
2005 was the year self-harm manifested from my depression, and that’s the main reason why I don’t like to think back to those years. I don’t quite remember what my trigger was… I wasn’t really bullied. I was made fun of by other kids for being fat, ugly, and/or studious. Sometimes it was behind my back – literally – and sometimes it was straight to my face. Simultaneously, I had a lot going on with my family so maybe that’s it.
But I was just completely miserable throughout those two years. I didn’t do very much to hide the scars from the blade I used so people thought I was just doing it out of attention. Actually, the last thing I wanted back then was attention. I simply wanted to disappear in the back of the class and pass through unnoticed.
Depression didn’t really ‘exist’ so to say in middle school. No one really knew what that was… you were simply just sad and needed to get over it. That, of course, just depressed me even more because no one really understood what I was going through and at the time I feared telling my dad about it. So, I unhealthily kept everything to myself.
And we all know how well that turned out.