I'm stuck in my last few months in school. The one person I know who truly cares about me is over 800 miles away. I have friends, but I know I dont make them smile when they see me. I know they don't miss me when I don't see them for weeks. Most don't make any effort to make any contact with me apart from my best friend.
She wasn't in school today and I genuinely felt rather disliked. I felt like I was just intruding on other people's space and inconveniencing them. Forced laughs and smiles ensued. Details of social gatherings came out. I smiled, nodded, asked questions.
But in my head, I asked,
Why was I never invited?
Yes, my friends know I struggle with anxiety and being social, but that doesn't mean I don't want to go out. It doesn't mean I don't want to talk to people, to see friends, to feel part of something.
How will I ever cope with social events if I'm never given the chance?
I don't know what I do wrong. What about me is so unlikable? I try my best, and I'm always kind to people. Perhaps my anxiety and awkwardness just makes people feel the same way. Perhaps I was just destined not to have many friends.
Not that I want thirty eight thousand friends. I want real friends, genuine friends who care about me. I just don't understand that people I care about, who call themselves my friends, don't really care about me.
What makes me such a third wheel in life? How come I either connect completely with people, or make them feel so uncomfortable they avoid me?
An organisation set up by Jim Breen, where thousands of people cycle through Ireland every year, to break the cycle of suicide. Cleverly placed pun. Today, the lovely Mr Breen came to my school and talked to all seven hundred plus of us. In the back, wearing a disgustingly bright orange shirt in support (and feeling decidedly Dutch), I was struggling not to cry. Not that he was being morbid. He didn't delve into details of his depression, or any gruesome details of suicide. He spoke in such a way that was amazing. He spoke to us in a way that reached all levels of understanding in relation to mental health. He was able to educate those who have never experienced a mental monster, without boring them, or frightening them off the topic. Though, even with such sensitivity, he was able to touch those who had suffered mental illness. It was like a little nod to us. We knew we were understood, that he understood. For me, that is always extremely emotional. For someone to understa...
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