I'm Just a Kid and My Life is a Nightmare

"What's the point of shaving your armpits during the winter? You don't sweat as much anyway", I asked/explained.

by candygreen on deviantART

"Ewww!", was the chorus I received from my oh-so progressive peers, as it bounced off the mustard walls of the girl's locker room. I was only thirteen and the only time I had ever touched a shaving razor was when I had bought one for dad on Father's day. I peeked underneath my arms as I changed back into my itchy cotton polo shirt, (which to this day I still curse at my school for forcing us to wear) hoping my little girl hairs didn't peek back at me. Later in class, I kept my hands low on either side of my chair even though I knew exactly why George shot Lennie at the end of Of Mice and Men.

"That's why they don't like me", my epiphany, my final reason as to why I was a social outcast in high school. "Maybe if I shave they will like me. Me and my hairy pits."

To my surprise, my classmates didn't like me any more or less after I had murdered my follicles with mom's leg razor. The following week, there was something else I’d find out my peers hated me for. The same went for the week after, and the week after that.

I spent the bulk of my teen years feeling angsty about how I fit in with other people. I knew I didn’t fit in, which was the problem, because it made me want to look for a Why. Looking for Whys as a child is a risky hobby due to one’s ever-blossoming imagination. This week it was my sprouting woman fur, the following week would be my dotty pizza face, and after that it’d be because they’d found my secret military base and wanted in on all the dough I was raking in with NASA and the CIA. It was even more dangerous considering it was such a personal subject; myself.

At some point, I felt like the whole thing was ridiculous. I still couldn’t figure out why no one seemed to like me, and I think I also stopped caring. I started wearing the outcast fashion that was popular (oxymoron?) at the time: striped hoodies and fishnet fingerless gloves. I wore studs around my wrists and borrowed my best friend’s band tees, even though she had gone to those concerts and I never could have. My mom said I’d get lost in the crowd and I wouldn’t find my way back home without someone’s heroin needle getting stuck inside my arm. She’d never give me enough money to buy tickets, to avoid the tragedy.

Outside of trying to find my spot on the social map, I was also struggling with finding myself. If you had asked me such questions as, “What are your hobbies?” or “What are you skills?”, I most likely would draw a blank for a long time before I could answer anything sensical. I didn’t know who I was, and although I have a much better idea of who I am now, it’s still a bit of a blur. All this searching and questioning caused a lot of emotional turmoil and perilous distraught that I could only sum up properly in two pithy words:

TEEN ANGST

The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)

According to all my online friends and every episode of Degrassi I’ve seen so far, teen angst is absolutely and undoubtedly a defining feature of the coming-of-age process. The entire idea of having to find out who you are and where you fit in in such a short amount of time, while also being bombarded by new and oft tiring responsibilities, already sounds like it will be met with hard depression and full anxiety. Now imagine actually having to live that, but as a 90’s or millennial kid. The “Me Me Me” generation has received the most flack from adults I’ve ever seen, which is incredible considering those adults are all Baby Boomers. Yes, those same baby boomers who are taking all those “lazy youth”’s jobs before they even have a chance to apply. Teenagers are also the most likely to be affected by depression or other mental illness affecting emotional stability over every other age group, and suicide is the second leading cause of death in 15 to 24 year old Canadians. Coupled with the fact that 80% of youth who require mental health services do not receive adequate care, it’s safe to say angst is a characteristic of adolescence and puberty.

Those statistics probably scared the heck out of you, and I’m pretty glad if they did. A lot of people don’t seem to realize just how much pain and suffering teens go through during their formative years. It’s important to remember that negative emotions are normal and it is okay to feel them. Once they get out of hand, or are impeding someone’s ability to function, that’s when they need to seek professional help or even just seek a familiar and friendly shoulder to cry on and let their worries out in the open. The great thing about this is that literally anybody can help. If you know a teenage human being, maybe even two or three, ask them how their day was. Make sure you make it clear that you’re really interested in knowing how it went. Let them know it’s safe for them to tell you if things are going badly. Be that person someone can rely on.

Title credit to Simple Plan, song is "I'm Just a Kid".