Sonder: Youth Mental Health Stories of Struggle & Strength | Page 48

FINDING MY ROOTS CONT.
Confused and angry with the corrupt society I was displaced in, I began
experimenting with my identity. I went through a gothic stage where I rebelled
against the status quo. My finger nails were painted black and my hairstyle hid my
face, showing a hard exterior; thus hiding my empathic nature. This transformed to
a scene and emo style which was popular at the time. I began striving to be noticed
by others. Quickly people had my name in their mouths for one reason or the other,
and I gained my popularity not understanding the consequences of trying to fit
into a sheep herd while being a panther. Attention is always a double edged sword.
Although I craved to be noticed by my peers, jealousy is contagious like a disease and
rumors spread like wildfires.
My stylish days of being in the scene wore off as we moved to a new neighborhood,
one that was more ghetto and sparked a whole new flame inside of me. I was still
striving to be popular and hangout with the “cool” kids, but now they were gangsters.
I had to prove myself as tough and ruthless. My behavior lead to me getting in a lot
of trouble. I started feeling depressed and struggling with my mental health. I had to
survive this crazy time and keep myself hanging on to this rollercoaster that is life.
It was so odd. Here I was, a straight-A student with a peace-loving family, listening to
gangster music, slanging drugs, doing graffiti, and getting into fights. It was like I had
come from the tree of enlightenment but turned out to be a bad apple. Somehow I
maintained multiple images of who I was. On one hand, I was this athletic, healthy girl
on varsity, playing a sport every season of the year. I got straight A’s and impressed my
teachers by being so advanced. I was a jock and a nerd at the same time, an interesting
dichotomy. On the other hand I was also a rebellious gangster who rolled with the
wrong crowd and got into some very dangerous situations. “Pill-popper, jaw-dropper,
someone stop her.” Negativity began to suffocate me and I missed the positive energy I
was used to being surrounded by. I felt my psyche getting pulled in multiple directions.
No one on the outside knew what I was going through internally.
With each of these identities, none truly seemed to fit who I was beneath the surface.
I spiraled out of control. Things began to change when my actions caught up with me
and I got arrested. It wasn’t until after getting expelled from school that I realized
the truths that were laying in the depths of the ocean of who I was. I changed the
focus of the literature I was reading and dove deep into revolution. Things began to
46  Depression