Jessica Belmosto

This is going to be a long one.  This is a testimony to the fact that things do get better. It does not happen over night, but it happens. There are mentions of depression, suicide and abuse so if those bother you, please don’t read on.

I came to a realization last night. I have come really far. I’ve never reflected on it like this before. Let’s rewind to maybe ten or eleven years ago. I was sitting in my guidance counselor’s office, sobbing about being bullied. I was begging for help. This woman ( who I won’t name ) looked me dead in the eyes and said, “You’re doing this for attention.” She proceeded to tell me I was on a path where I would be lucky to make it out of middle school. A grown woman, with some sort of psych background said that to an eleven or twelve year old girl who was clearly in distress. Think what you’d like about that but it’s a moment I will never forget.

I was diagnosed with depression and a slue of other things the year prior. I was on the school’s radar as a problem child. They didn’t like that my mom was involved and demanded my educational needs be met. There were issues at home going on and I won’t get into those but they certainly played out at school. I never lashed out or asked for attention. The bullying just sort of happened. I’m sick to my stomach just thinking about the bus ride homes. The volume on my blue iPod Nano couldn’t go high enough to drown out the names being thrown at me. The worst part of this entire thing was that the ring leader’s mother drove the bus. She made sure she never saw her kid throw Monster energy drinks at me. Anything to protect your kid, I guess.

I was missing school left and right. Different reasons kept me home or away from school. I never failed a class or stayed back.  In fact, I was a pretty decent student. I loved learning. I enjoyed being in a classroom where I could learn. I felt protected by a teacher giving a lesson. There was no way a student could target me.

I spent the majority of my adolescence was spent in a very dark place. I was very depressed. There was a lot of emotional and physical abuse going on. Between that and the bullying, all of my self esteem vanished. Everything I did was picked and torn apart. Because of this, I’ve learned to doubt just about everything I put my name on. I didn’t see myself ever escaping that horrible place. I saw it all ending on my terms. I’m forever thankful for my dad who as able to talk me off the metaphorical ledge on several occasions.

Alright enough of the negativity. Enough was enough and I transferred schools. I was placed in an environment that allowed me to thrive. I had proper attention from teachers who could assist me with math or whatever else I struggled with. I acquired skills that helped me cope with my depression and anxiety. I was pushed out of my comfort zone in the most supportive way possible. My tolerance for any sort of disruptions were incredibly low. My school therapist helped me overcome that. Outside of school, I was  doing therapy and lots of it. My parents were very supportive and took me wherever I needed to go. I was learning to live a normal life. I wasn’t bombarded by negativity on a daily basis. I was learning to develop a self esteem.

If you’ve read “My Reflection Isn’t Me” you know that my perception of myself is a little warped. I was belittled by someone I thought loved me. I never had a real chance to develop a self esteem. Every time I went to do so, it was crushed. There are still times when I hear his words play in my head. These past few months it’s been bad. It’s not always going to be sunshine and rainbows. I still let his words get to me. The only difference now is the fact that I have accomplishments to reflect on. At 12 and 13, I had nothing. Now at 22 I can look back and see everything. I wish this person could see me now. Part of me wants to rub it all in his face. I’ll stick to being the bigger person though.

I’ve repressed most memories from my days at Raynham Middle School. The memories I do have aren’t pleasant. There was once a point where I couldn’t go to my brother’s Rec league basketball games because I would get sick to my stomach and sob as soon as I’d walk in the door. I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth. My mom forced me to keep going even when I wanted to let the depression win. I won. Today I’m enrolled in classes at a community college. I had a talk with my advisor last week and she said it’s time to think about transferring. It’s another chapter I never thought would be written.  I’m proud of myself. For the first time, I can sit back and say that I know I’m on the right path. My point in all of this is the fact that things do get better. I would’ve laughed if someone told me this is what my life would be like now. Time has the power to change things. You have the power to change things. Hang on, you can do this.