Suicide in high school

I was just reading about the abnormal suicide rates in Palo Alto high school. High suicide rates among teenagers in affluent areas did not surprise me. Faced with high levels of pressure to succeed, and isolation from their intolerant parents, I'm pretty sure I would not find any will to live in this world if I were them. When I was in senior year in high school in New York, a couple of students in my school also committed suicide. Jump in front of the train was a common method. My school was grieving after the death, but I somehow find no difference compare to the atmosphere beforehand. To me, that school was always gloomy.

I was stalking one of my previous ex's friends on Facebook the other day. Because, who doesn't stalk their ex at some point in time? As I scroll through the pictures, one girl caught my attention. I clicked into her semi-public profile, and was stunned. She looks exactly like the girl whom bullied me back when I was in high school. It is like her identical twin. And she looked so happy. Scenes of despair flood up in my mind. After the goosebumps, chills, and upset stomach, I cleared my browser history, closed safari. I found myself in my weakest state of mind.

Ex dumped me, and his friend look like someone who used to bully me. What a terrible world I live in. Just another reason we shouldn't be together. He is just a clone of those people. People from affluent areas are all the same.

I let my mind dwell. My pain and disgust still remained in me. I'm pretty sure if I had asked my ex about her, he would probably say "so and so is a really nice person, she wouldn't do those things to anyone...they are not even the same person, they just look alike" As far as he could tell. Of course, people change through out the course of time. And as they grow up, they probably have loss their queen-bee throne that was dominating back in their teenage years. If they are good people now, does it exempt them from what they have done in the past? Does it not matter how much torment I went through when I was in the weakest, most senitive years? With my hands shaking, this intense physical reaction from just seeing a picture is indicative of something far more serious underneath.

But the real problem is not being dumped or I got hurt. The problem is that I still have not yet let go of all the bitterness in the past after all these years. I simply choose to ignore the past, and let the painful imprints fade away in my long-term memory. I was the happiest student in high school graduation, because finally I can get out of it. Out of sight, out of mind. So I used to think. But just because I ignore what I struggled, doesn't mean that I can escape from all the insecurity, harm, negative feelings I endured and internalized for four years.

Back in high school, I did not have the courage or the confidence to talk to any of my fellow classmates on the same level because my family was not wealthy enough to live in the district. Judy was in the same band practice as me. I can tell she is one of the competitive students that wants to get into Harvard or Yale. I was a beginner in flute, took a couple of classes, and thought that playing some band music can really help enhance my skills. My counselor placed me in Band II by accident, a class for the highly accomplished musicians. I remember the first day I had no idea what I was doing. I had no sheet music, and was not familiar with any of the songs. There was a lot of catching up to do. Judy sat next to me. After the class, she told the teacher that I did not play my flute during class. My teacher was a Ph.D. We addressed him as Dr. He said to us, since my schedule was having conflicts, I can stay in Band II and will be fine. Judy apparently did not think so. She told everyone that I did not play my flute in class, publicly ridiculed me, and pointed fingers when encounter me in hallways. I was scared. I spend most of my time that year practicing flute, I just cannot get to be as good as Judy. Hence, I thought, Judy had the right to make fun of me, simply because I sucked. I did not belong in that class. After that year, I threw my flute away, never wanted to see it again.

I tried talking to therapists about this. I was acknowledged that I can blame everyone around me for the things that happened, the teacher, Judy, her friends, and myself. I was told to learn to love myself, even through everything I went through opposed such idea. I was embarrassed to talk to anyone about this, even more so to people closest to me. As I find more answers to treat my disease of insecurity and low self-esteem, I came to the idea to just--- talk to her about this. It's been so many years, and there is nothing I can loose. Maybe she has a different opinion of the situation, and my interpretation of the situation was just off. Maybe she tell her argument for what she did, and I simply misunderstood. Confrontation, even just a tiny bit of words in exchange, can catalyze healing process of my mental wounds. Maybe, just maybe, I will contact Judy on Facebook, and write her a letter about how I felt. Maybe she will listen, maybe she will not, or maybe she was not even aware. And maybe that identical twin I saw on Facebook in my ex's profile is the good twin and Judy is the evil sister.