Dear Editor,
I’m a young adult with a story to tell. I’ve always been the worst at expressing my feelings. At a very young age I learnt to suppress them to the point where I hurt people by being silent, but I bet there is no point keeping it in anymore. I grew up in a very poor family, where the older I got, life got even tougher. When I started nursery school, I didn’t even know the beginning of the alphabet, I went to school without any fancy shoe or bags. I wasn’t privileged with any money to go to school. For 8 years I walked to and from school every day (Nursery and Primary). I began to struggle with depression and nightmares at a very young age because I had a dysfunctional family. I was a victim of domestic violence. My childhood was filled with fear and pain but I kept hanging on, praying and believing it would get better. I hoped to grow up someday and become someone with a purpose but reality kept coming back. I was born as a dark-skinned girl which seem to be one of the biggest mockeries of today’s society. I was mocked and laughed at several times as a child because I was black (they said). I didn’t have any friends or anyone to talk to. I was called several nicknames and even some of the teachers looked down on me because I was firstly, dark-skinned and secondly, poor. I was strong and never broke down in-front of anyone.
Every night I would cry myself to sleep, hoping tomorrow would be better. I went to school with one uniform and one shirt. I never knew what an iron was until I was a teen, I started to wash my own clothing at the age of 5. I however, worked hard with my studies and was the top student for the various levels of education. While everyone was happy with it, I was still struggling within my head, mainly because my situation didn’t change. I said maybe if I keep doing better people would start liking me but it only lasted a while before people started looking down on me again. Then came adolescence and I started high school. My parents were poor but they tried their best to get me clothing and books to go to high school which I’m very thankful for since my other siblings never had the opportunity to finish high school. I had one uniform and one shirt again with one pair of socks and shoes. Every day I would wash my clothing after school hoping it would dry the next morning, but it didn’t
always. Hence, I wore wet and dirty clothing many times. I didn’t iron my clothing at times and my parents never had the interest to either. At times teachers would ask what happen to my clothing and I would lie and say it got mashed up in the bus because of too many persons sitting in one seat, the kids often laughed at me. My hair was always messy, since I never had any fancy hair product or oil to put in it, so people started judging me by my physical appearance.
School was a handful but being home was even worse with all the chores, parents nagging at you, hate from sibling because I wasn’t their biological sister. It got to a point where suicide was my answer but I remember my dreams and kept going. I kept fighting my depression and nightmares. I don’t remember if my mother hugged me, I don’t remember the time she ever said it would be okay, I never express to my parents because they never had the time, life was such a struggle words aren’t enough to explain. I wrote nine subjects at CSEC and became the valedictorian of my school. I often heard I couldn’t do it, I was pulled down and discouraged more times than I was encouraged, but I worked hard enough to prove I can, as well as hoping the end results will change my life. I believed that my success at secondary would’ve made my life better but it just got worse. I started looking for jobs since I couldn’t afford to go to any university, nor be supported. It has been years since I graduated and I’m still jobless. I’ve applied to so many private and public places but no one ever responded. They say people often break through the struggles and become successful, so again I kept holding on, hoping to see the light through my darkness. I’m often seen as a burden to my parents because I’m a girl child. There are so many bitter parts of my life that I can’t even put into words. I’ve always had dreams of being independent, so I decided to reach out the to the ones in higher authority because I couldn’t handle it anymore; Minister of Education, Minister of Agriculture, Managers of various institutions, MP of my region, Chairman of my region and many others. I’ve wrote endless applications and literally begged to have a job to support myself and not being forced into marriage and being subjected to domestic violence all over again, but I kept getting no as an answer or no response at all.
I felt dejected, hopeless, my depression took a hit for the worst. When I heard the Government announced the GOAL initiative, I felt happy and got my hopes up again and I applied and waited to see if I’ll be one of the awardees. When the list was released, I eagerly searched for my name, but there again reality broke me into pieces; my name wasn’t on the list of awardees. I felt like a failure again. I wasn’t able to break through the darkness and decided to choose suicide because I didn’t want to go through this suffering, but one person kept pushing me, kept saying it would be okay, kept saying the light would shine, keep holding on. I’m thankful for that individual who always listened and understood me. I’m still here today struggling with depression, without a job, with my dreams becoming just dreams every passing day. Sometimes it’s our expectations which breaks us. Some of us choose to be patient and believe in the system, but day after day, week after week, month after month, the very system we believe and had so much faith in, keeps failing us. My heart yearns for other females out there, who like myself keep doing every possible thing they can; keep trusting and believing in the system; hoping that one day, they’ll be blessed with an opportunity to change their life. Life isn’t always fair, and like life, the system will only cater for a select few (those who have links, as we say), but don’t lose hope, maybe one day, things will change for the better. If you’ve read this far, I thank you for time and hope that my story inspires you to not give up. Below is a piece I wrote in one of my darker days:
“She the type of girl that will give you the whole world but her mental health makes her want to die sometimes. She is the type of girl that forgets about herself. She always tries to smile even when she wants to cry. She is the type of girl that will never ask for help but she will always give advice if you’re talking suicide. She is the type of girl that wants to be someone else. So, she covers all her scars now, she’s ready for the fight. She takes a lot of selfies but she doesn’t know herself. She’s very down to earth but she wants to leave the world. She feels like life is over because she’s always overwhelmed and I just hope she gets help. People see her scars but they don’t understand the battles, just like people see the stars but they don’t know how far they travelled.
From a kid, she was an adult, she had to learn to battle. She’s hiding in the shadows of the trauma she can’t handle. Smiles on all her socials but cries behind her photos. If only you could see the things that she doesn’t post, but look a-little closer you can see that she is broken. Always posting like she’s coping but inside she’s dying slowly. ‘Cause she hates the way she feels, overthinking makes her ill, now she’s drinking every weekend cause she’s trying to numb the feels but nothing seems to work, nothing numbs the hurt because when she wakes up in the morning every day, she’s still her. She’s got a heart of gold but she suffers in her soul. Self-esteem is broken but she fights it on the low, she’s always on her own or she’s always on the phone but she just doesn’t say hello.
She can’t do this by herself, she’s not rude, and she’s just not well, she’s just afraid to get help. There isn’t anyone she can tell, not even the girls, so she keeps it to herself and she smile to the world. She’s tired of all her flaws and insecurities that haunt her. Trying to deal with trauma in her head, she’s got some walls up. Family don’t support her but support their other daughters. She’s alone inside her mind and she just doesn’t feel important. Depression in her mind, poison in her blood, anxiety in her heart and she’s screaming to be loved. She ain’t got no self-esteem and what you see is just a front. She’s always on the run but she doesn’t know what from, but help it hurts!”
Sincerely,
Name and Address Provided
