For some of us, school was more than education. It meant escaping home and being away from the burdens that our young minds could not bear at home. For some of us it was the other way round. Going home meant escaping from the realities that we were too afraid to face at school. It meant not having to see the bully's face the next morning, not having to see the classmates you were not friends with and not having to walk in hallways and passages with our knees feeling like two magnets trying to connect. It meant not feeling the pressure to be like everyone else or not facing the consequences of being too different.
Some of us did not even think about these transitions because either ways, they made no meaning to us. Inside and outside of our minds may not have made sense too, so all we did was hide. Get smaller and smaller until we were not so obvious enough to be picked on. Where we hid may not have been clean, safe or appropriate but it accepted us more than everywhere or everyone else did. Where we hid got called names a lot. Attention seeking, stupid, depressed, lonely, attache(d), meaningless, sad, angry, weak... And it was hard to determine if these names were true or if we just wanted meaning so bad that we accepted anything that came our way.
For some of us, it was finding love or what we thought to be love that may not have been right. It was sitting behind in classrooms when school was over, palms woven together and eyes locked into space. For some of us it was losing ourselves, pieces of us shedding in classrooms, on the lips of those who gossiped about us, on the coating of canes that whipped us when we were wrong and on the minds of those that felt inspired by us.
For some of us it was all about surviving the moments because we were told that school was not forever. But is it true? For some of us, those moments cut through our skins too deep and no matter how far we went the blood trails, mark our footsteps. Our nightmares, insomnia, therapy session and regrets makes it easy for us to drown again and feel what we experienced and expected to survive. We wish surviving means wiping the memories. We wished surviving meant not having to write this some day.
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