I didn't realise my school was any different to anyone else's until I went to University. Then when I chatted about school with people there I realised that not everyone went to a school like mine and I was totally shocked. I'm going to try and keep this short and sweet because there are a lot of experiences that make up the first 18 years of my life, but I wanted to give an 'insider's' perspective to going to a faith school and what it's really like. Obviously I can't speak for other schools, but these are my experiences from going to a Catholic primary and secondary school.
The start of a new term (be it at school or uni or college) can be hella daunting. It's something that can cause a lot of anxiety and even a bit of a mental health flare-up. But, if you're in need of a little pick-me-up this week as you go back to school/college or prepare for university, I've got a list of good things about a new term that *hopefully* will help ease some of the concern.
1.) New stationery. Folders, pens, pencils, notebooks, the list goes on. There's SO much beautiful stationery out there to help get you motivated. Having a fresh start with a set of new things can really help to settle you into the idea that no matter what happened last year, you've got a fresh slate now.
2.) You get a routine back. It feels nice being away from having to do things in a set pattern every day, BUT, it means that you have to structure your own day, which can be quite draining. A new term means a new daily plan that you can stick to and keep your life in order.
3.) You're far away from exams. The beginning of an academic year = not having exams. You can take your time to adjust to the syllabus. Plus, the stress of examinations is not on top of you whilst you settle back in to an academic routine.
4.) It's a chance to start afresh academically. You've had a long break, and now it's time to get stuck in. Last year's results can always be improved upon, and you can leave them behind you. This is your year to shine.
5.) You've got your mentors back. Whether they're teachers, personal tutors, or members of a mental health team, you've got a support network back in place that you can see whenever you need them.
6.) Learning. I know, I know, this isn't *too* exciting, but if you're heading into your A-Levels or uni, you get to study subjects you love (and if you don't love them, you might need to think about what you're gaining from the experience).
7.) If all else fails, it's not too long until half term/reading week. I went through periods of really hating and really loving being in education. Sometimes going through a whole day seemed too hard, and crossing it off on my calendar as I edged towards a break felt like such a weight off of my shoulders. If you are really struggling with the idea of going back, then talk to someone about it, and see what help you can get.
What are you excited for?
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There can be a whole tonne of really good things about school, but it can also be really tough for a whole variety of people. Everyone seems to say that your teenage years are the best years of your life, but my opinion? That saying is utter bullshit. And not only because it's not always true. It makes your future life seem pointless and a thing of never-ending misery. I spent a lot of time in my teenage years asking myself just how awful adult life could be if I was currently in my 'prime of happiness'. The truth is that my adult life isn't awful. It's rocky, I have a tonne of responsibilities, but I have a far better time than I did as a teen.
Despite enjoying the academic side of school a lot, I really found the social and physical side of it to be a massive strain on my mental health. When I say physical here I don't mean having to do PE (although that was a challenge too), but more bringing myself to actually go into school every day was something I genuinely found hard. There were some really horrible periods, where getting through one single day seemed like an impossible challenge. So just know that if you feel like each day is unbearable you are not alone. I even remember going through a phase of ticking off each day three times on my calendar to motivate myself to get through it: I would tick the calendar for waking up, tick it for going through the school day and tick it before bed. That way I could count down the days until it was the weekend or a school holiday in a much more intense way.
This may seem 'crazy', but that's because we've all been taught that your expression of mental health problems makes you crazy, when in fact the very word exists to simply divide people from each other. I hate using the word, as it has so many negative connotations. So yes, my behaviour was erratic, upsetting and hard to understand at this time, but it was never crazy. 'Crazy' is just a construct.
Going back to school after a break, especially after the Christmas holidays, can be really hard. And a lot of people don't understand how or why. It's often perceived as laziness: just because you struggle to get out of bed early in the morning to get to school does not mean you're lazy. This kind of prejudice against how you feel when you return to school makes it so much harder for you to accept that what you're doing is brave and tough and it's okay to feel as though it's all a little too overwhelming.
I'm not saying I know what any of you are going through, but if you are struggling with the first week back at school, or with the idea of getting through a whole seven weeks before having a real break, then just know that you're not alone. The fact that other people struggle with it too does not however lessen your struggle.
I've thought of a few tips that either really helped me when I was at school, or I wish I knew back when I was there that could have helped me to cope with school when I was having a rubbish time with my mental health:
1.) Find yourself a 'comfort blanket' item. This one is a bit of a double-edged sword, but is something I find so helpful. Pop something small that helps you to feel calm in your blazer or backpack that you can pull out when you're alone and feeling anxious. I was kindly given an Irish worry stone as a little Christmas present by another blogger, and I'm going to put it in my main handbag so that I can rub it when I feel stressed.
2. Prepare for school the night before. This is something that everyone tells you anyway, but I find it stills helps me now to deal with work in the morning. Get your clothes ready and school bag packed whilst you're feeling fully awake so that you have less to do in the morning. It also minimises the chance of you forgetting something important for school, which can really set your anxiety off.
3.) Treat yo-self. This sounds like a silly one, but it's probably the one that I found to be most useful. Reward yourself for going to school and getting through the day with something special. It could be a favouite chocolate bar, a nice bath, or simply taking some 'me' time out to read a book. On really bad days I'd pop a little treat in with my lunch as something to look forward to having for getting through the morning. You could even have a big treat for the end of the week: a new book, popping into LUSH and buying a special bath bomb, or maybe even cooking your favourite meal are favourites of mine.
4.) Take time out when you need it. Sometimes it's really bloody hard trying to be sociable all day every day. It can all get so overwhelming that you switch off from everyone and go into a little spiral of anti-social behaviour. Instead of this, it's nice to take little breaks from people. Spend a break time in the library relaxing on your own, or if you really don't feel up to school, taking one day off isn't the end of the world. Take the time to re-coup, really think about what's bothering you and tackle it.
5.) Keep up to date on your work, and focus in class. I know I sound like an overbearing parent right now, but I found my general school-related anxiety sky-rocketed when I ignored everyone's advice. There's nothing worse than realising you're at a point of no return: you're so far behind that you possibly can't catch up again. Anxiety levels rise as school grades drop, and it's so hard to fix. Getting into a good routine of doing work at the start of a term can stop this showballing effect.
So, there we have it. Some tips that I really hope can help some of you that are struggling in the first week back. My twitter or email inbox is always open if you need a friendly face to talk to about your concerns. And remember: things get better, and school is temporary, even if it seems neverending.
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I really wasn't sure what to title this, and I'm really still not sure what I'm going to say. I had 90% of another post written for you guys, with pictures set up for it and edited. Then I found out a teacher from my secondary school had passed away and I found that I just couldn't continue with the post I had planned. I left school 4 years ago, so it begs the question: why the fuck would you really be that sad or that affected by the death of a man you haven't seen or spoken to in four years? And who you only saw during a few lessons a week? Well, let me enlighten you.
This man taught me for SEVEN YEARS. Imagine putting up with me for that long, right? He was the head of Latin in our school, a language that many people consider pointless, a thing of the past, or something for stuffy boarding school boys to learn probably whilst they doff their caps to the servants. Yet, this man brought such charisma to the subject that reams of people opted to take the language to GCSE over French, German, Spanish and even Japanese. He was possibly the largest man I've ever met (and I don't say that to be rude - he was tall and round and owned it, strutting around in his braces and sockless sandals).
He inspired such a love for the subject within me that I pursued it all the way up to my A-Levels, and even initially applied to do a combi course of English and Latin at University. I can safely say this man was the most intelligent person I ever met, before, during or after university. Not only did he know every little intricacy about the language he taught, but also the culture, and pretty much everything about any other topic you could ask him. He even had a copy of Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone in Latin and Ancient Greek to peruse when he fancied, and even let us borrow it. So, how could you not like him?
His intellectual influence upon me didn't end there either. I learnt more from his lessons about English grammar and structure than I ever did from my actual English lessons. He first taught me that quality is far more important than quantity, and regularly informed me to 'stop with the waffly bullshit and just write'; a phrase that stuck in my mind every single time I wrote an undergraduate essay, had to construct a cover letter, and even (sometimes) when I write these posts for you guys. So, sorry Mr B for the state of this post, but you've made me more than a little teary and the bullshit had to come back out.
Had his influence upon me ended there, then I would probably not be writing this post right now, but, like every good teacher, he had an emotional impact upon my journey through life as well. Hardly any of you will know this, but year 13 (when I was 17/18) was the start of the hardest few years of my life. Although I had suffered with doing it in the past, it was truly the time when my self harm started to get bad. At school he possibly had the biggest positive impact upon this, endlessly offering his classroom as a safe space, but one in which he would dole out the tough love (something I always need). My granddad died in the December (a man who I saw every day, and still think about most days), I was under masses of pressure from school, and I was simply unhappy in my home life. I remember coming in soon after my granddad had died and explaining to Mr B what had happened whilst I cried and he listened. From the beginning of year 12 onwards, when my class consisted of only 5 of us - who really wants to do a Latin A-Level?! - I remember this lovable, terrifying giant being the agony aunt of the group. He listened to our problems, didn't query them and offered realistic advice.
He also taught me so many life lessons. Coming from a Catholic school, he was the first person that taught me that people shouldn't have labels. One of the boys in the class asked if the poet we were reading (who was talking about anal sex) was gay. He was greeted with the question: why should we label it? He might like to fuck boys, or like to fuck girls, or like to fuck both. Does that mean we should give him a title that separates him from other poets? Why do we have this modern need to categorise everyone, and in this way, separate them from one another? This has seriously kept me thinking for years, and I'm so glad it has.
Perhaps my most touching memory of Mr B was just after his mother died. It happened on a weekend, and during our Monday morning class he announced what had happened, and asked if we could take the lesson easily as he was very much affected by it. Our 'little family' as it almost became during these two years in the classroom obviously agreed. So, we went on to discuss the stockings she made up for him at Christmas (containing one large gold coin and an orange), and how he was inheriting her dog. For the next few weeks he came in with pictures of little Max the dog, who was helping him to get through this troubling time. It was common for us to do hard work for the first half of a lesson and relax for the second half - doing such strenuous work for an hour would have gotten us nowhere. In one of the first lessons after the death of his mother, I remember him putting on some opera in one of these second halves, and weeping as it reminded him of his mother so much. That is an image that will never leave me.
Mr B was a man you could always come to to learn something: whether it was about modern politics, facts about ancient prostitutes, or simply the advantages of wearing sandals all year round, you were sure to come away better off.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is, goodbye Mr B, you will be sorely missed, and I feel sorry for all those individuals out there who never got a chance to experience your presence in their lives.
