Teen Angst
Ever the one to go into dramatics, I kept a journal throughout middle and high school where I wrote out my feelings. My very sad, mid-puberty, hormone-induced feelings. I forgot all about this journal, partly because it is so cringe-y, probably because my brain blocked the middle and high school trauma, and most likely because I stopped writing in it ten years ago. So when I stumbled upon it while cleaning and reorganizing my office, I decided to crack it open.
Boy, oh boy. I’m going to share, start to finish, an entry I wrote at a time I must have been feeling desperately depressed. Looking back, I am so glad that this was not the end of my story. I am blessed to say that the Lord delivered me from poor mental health, and if you or someone you know is struggling with it, know that I am praying for you.
Here it is: “Queen of Outcasts”
I am a pariah.
Not to be confused with pharaoh;
i am in no way a revered queen nor am i respected as such.
Pariah, i.e. outcast, or loser. Someone that is so socially rebuked to the point of wishing for nonexistence.
Because it is not enough that i must feel alone by my own standards but by their refusal of me additionally—
Like i needed an invitation to hate myself.
Often times we realize how well off we were when we reflect, but the past that so desperately grips your heartstrings like a gust of wind pulling your coattails along in any direction it so pleases does not feel like well off
Why let being the pariah upset you when you know you would rather be alone in the end anyways?
Why challenge your future that has been so elegantly laid out for you when you hate change?
Why fight society’s need to divide and conquer like a weak army with indescribable need for power?
So i’m the pariah
maybe I could one day become pharaoh pariah and take over the world of sameness
where everything unique or different is burnt up like the plagued.
Signed,
Queen of the outcasts
(December 6, 2017)
Okay, so little AP was a major try hard when it came to allusions, metaphors, and similes, but looking past how difficult it is to read this worship of self-pity (because ultimately that’s what I was doing, focusing all my energy on being miserable), let’s talk about why I, and a too large percentage of teens, felt this way.
Not only was I struggling with acceptance, relationships, and self-confidence, I was also surrounded by people in worse situations than I was. We were one big conglomerate of messed up situations and misery. I had a friend in an abusive household, another who self-harmed, and another that committed suicide my freshman year.
It’s okay if you cringed or even if you laughed at my poor attempt at poetry; I know its not winning any awards. But look at what myself and most of my “friends” were going through.
loser, rebuked, wishing for nonexistence, hate myself
This shouldn’t be language that our children can even associate with. This is why it is so vitally important for kids to have real friends that can lift them up, and real mentors who can speak life into their lives. As a new mom, I am so worried about those teen years with my son because I know how difficult they are!
I was baptized at 14, but I didn’t learn how to give this sickness to God and experience healing until much later.
All I have to say is, check on your kids! What you may be writing off as “teen angst” could be a real problem. We are all fighting in a spiritual battle; don’t let your kids forget that Jesus has already won the war.
Side note: I threw that journal away.
Matthew 16:23 “Get behind me, Satan!”
