College used to feel like a constant struggle for air. There were times I felt I was swimming up for air, but the deep abyss just continued to envelop me. High school was not the happiest of memories of me. I spent most of my life in a semi-international school full of rich kids with their daddy’s Porsche bringing them to school in the morning. I always felt like I never fit in there. While most of my classmates were talking about the latest Hollywood gossip and comparing Presto shoes (that was the in thing back then), I was busy imagining a life far, far away buried in one of Blyton’s many stories. That was my escape back then. Needless to say, I never really fit in with the “cool” kids. I found that competing for the book worm award was fun for goodness sake. I used to write a lot too, lately Ive been doing less and less of both. Who am I kidding, its been years since I’ve written anything of depth or importance. I remember back in grade school, I used to make short stories for my friends. (That was my weak attempt to fit in) I remember always being asked to make love stories. The moffats and the BackStreet Boys were the most popular band back then, and naturally my classmates were swooning over them. I would make short stories about them and the boy band and they’d eat it up like candy. I never really saw the allure those boys gave. It just didn’t do it for me. I would get more tickled pink with the nameless princes in fairytales.
My parents past away when I was in middle school. That meant I had to transfer homes and high school. As if that wasn’t awkward enough, I had to chose between a snotty Spanish speaking “elitista” all girl school, or a conservative and traditional all girl school up in the “bundoks”. I had heard horror stories of the first, and since I really wasn’t into buying my way into people’s hearts (literally), I chose the latter. Again I felt like a fish out of water. On my first day of class I was lost in the huge campus. My old school was composed of one section per batch, made up of 15 students at the most. This school had at least four sections to a batch with 40 students or more per section. Everyone knew each other from grade 1 to fourth year, it was impossible to know everyone in this school of almost a thousand students. I came from a co-ed Montessori school composed of foreigners, my new school was composed of hard core, malulutong magmura at manapak na puro babae. I remember asking for directions in English on my first day to some random student. She replied to me by asking me if I was from the States. I replied, “No, I’m not why do you ask?” And she replies by saying, “Ang conyo mo kasi eh. Wala lang”. Naive me thought it was a complement and said “Ah, thanks! So where’s the high school building?”. The girl gave me this blank look and just walked away.
I must say I have never cried so hard in my life than when I was in high school. I was constantly bullied for one reason or another. Being too confident in front of a guy made you a flirt. Being not confident enough made you fake. Putting make-up made you look like a streetwalker, but putting none would make you the butt of jokes. Girls would just poke fun, make rumours, make each other cry day in and day out. Today your friend, tomorrow your enemy. (have you seen MEAN GIRLS the movie? ITS ALL TRUE.) It was CRAZY. I tell you, you have not seen hell til you have spent a year in an all girl school. In fact these girls made Hades look like a saint! Needless to say, I kept in contact with a selected few after college. Funny, we recently had a reunion, and it was like no one knew each other. I found out later on that through the years, these girls never stopped trying to kill each other, alliances were made and broken, til finally there were none.
When i stepped into college, I really thought things would be more sane. My first two years were pretty tame til I met my first boyfriend. Like most first relationships, I dove in head first with my eyes shut and hands tied. My heart was broken to pieces and I rushed to friends for comfort. The thing was, they weren’t exactly the most, how do I say this, “well behaved” friends in the world. My first boyfriend had forbidden me to talk to anyone especially guys (I know what you must be thinking and I agree with you wholeheartedly), so when this crowd came along and offered me shelter, I readily accepted.
Following this is a whirlwind of trouble, trouble and more trouble. I completely lost myself with these people. You could consider them the “cool crowd”, and they showed me all different ways of escape from my reality. They let me be whoever I wanted to be, whenever I wanted, no reasons asked. I was trapped in my own poison.
I remember hitting rock bottom and thinking that I was going to die. There were so many times I actually considered taking my own life, because everything seemed so pointless and empty. I felt I had wasted away my life and my soul in a span of two years, and there was no way to get out of this prison. One day a friend of mine brought me to church. I had been baptized as a Christian very early in my life. I was even part of the church choir and was involved in medical missions as a child, but I started backsliding soon after the death of my parents and certain events following that. I remember entering church and just feeling overwhelmed by the situation. A part of me had been craving for God’s love, but I just didn’t know how to pull myself out of the hole I had dug so deep for myself. I realize now that no matter what I did, I could have never gotten myself out of that hole until I had completely surrendered everything to Him and admitted I was weak.
It’s been almost 2 years since that fateful day. I still cry when I go to church, but its tears of happiness and thanksgiving, rather than of repentance and regret. Im happy to say I have a new set of friends and a new boyfriend. Both mentioned are Christians. J I have a good job which is letting me pay for college, and most importantly, I have God back in my life. Im still a work in progress, my past has consequences which I deal with daily, but this time I have a good support group keeping my head above water. To God be the glory.
