“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”
— Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
I look back at my first year of sixth form as the worst year of my (admittedly pretty-short-thus-far) life. However, it’s also the year that marked a turning point for me and my mental health. It was the year that I completely broke down – but this also began the process of putting myself back together again.
At school, I started skipping lessons when my anxiety or depression was particularly bad. Every hour sat in a classroom, feeling alone and broken and miserable, felt like torture – and sometimes, I just couldn’t bear it. But, unsurprisingly, I couldn’t get away with that forever.
In January 2012, a teacher confronted me about it. When asked why I’d been skipping classes, I just couldn’t hide it anymore. I completely broke down.
The relief that I felt when that teacher told me that she understood, and that she’d been there too, was indescribable. She held my hand as I cried and promised me I was going to get better.
I couldn’t even bring myself to nod back then, because I still didn’t believe that this was possible... But she was right. Things were going to get better.