My A/P began at 10, and went undiagnosed until 14, when i had a nervous breakdown. as a 14yr old, this was traumatic for not only me, but for my young friends, who didnt know how to help, or what to say, because just like me, they didnt know what was wrong and why i was terrified of everything, bordering on hysteria. my school counsellor rang my parents and had me picked up-i didnt go back for 3mths as i went through some of the darkest moments of my life.
my 2nd day at home, practically catatonic, i saw a car drive up my driveway. it was my best friends mother, and she came bearing a gift. my friend sarah was pretty and popular and awesome. she struggled academically, particularly with literacy and dyslexia but very few people noticed because she was just so charismatic. she had been with me, and watched me slowly disintergrate at school- she knew something was wrong, but didnt know what.
her mum hugged me, said a quick prayer and handed me a rolled up scrolled, tied with ribbon. sarah had sent me this scroll via her mum, because she wasnt sure if i was up to visitors and wasnt sure she would say the right thing- i mean this was daunting in yr8.
After sarah's mum left, i opened the scroll- painted gold, with flecks of glitter and a fairy etched into the right hand corner. on this piece of paper was a poem sarah wrote for me. i have moved alot since then, and it ALWAYS takes pride of place in my room. someone who hated writing, reading, poetry etc, had put her feelings for me into a poem, something she knew i would appreciate. the poem is simple, the sentiment is strong. she was extremely perceptive for a 14yr old who was freaked out about her best friends mental health.
Here is the poem.
'For You'
Dying on the inside,
smile is all i see
hoping this will come and go,
hoping for release.
Two seperate lives you live;
one of work and one of play.
I question about another one,
number three, which leads you astray.
Panic stricken, thrashing tears
dying hopes, many fears.
A day to let this go would be
the day to be free;
the third life gone- found another home.
Its crumpled and creased and torn but i have kept that piece of paper, all pretty and gold for over 14 years to remind me that people may not always understand, but they will always try, and love me regardless. my closest friends had got together during my absence from school and researched Panic Disorder on the net so they would have an idea of what i was facing. how awesome for a bunch of barely teenagers to care enough. i will never forget sarah's impeccable timing and the words she wrote so long ago. the way she saw my life in 3 seperate parts- the facade, the mask, the pain i hid, the panic that taunted me. I dont have many positive memories from that period of my life, so its lovely that i do have this one, a tangible reminder.
Im blessed.
Maz XX