Memories

Most of the times when I look back at high school, I would usually dismiss those four years of my life as somewhat of a blur. Memories of nothingness usually jumble together to become a muddle of things I try not to think back to anymore. But recently, probably because I came back home for the holidays, and I was just so bored I had nothing else to do other than think back to those times, I’ve  began to look back to those memories I’ve tried to suppress. And in thinking back, I realized why high school was such a “blur”  - I was lost. I mean I still find myself lost in life occasionally, but back then, I realized I was lost in who I was. I had no idea who I was. I had no idea what I liked, what I wanted in life, what I was passionate about. And that, inherently, developed into apathy, and soon after that, it became lethargy – not just in school, but in life.

This dawning realization, along with the pressure of college applications, made my senior year in high school one of the most depressing times of my life. I began to not care about anything. I half-assed most of my college essays, my homework, and almost everything I did. I constantly lied to my parents, telling them that everything was fine, when in fact none of it was. My grades were slipping, but I tried covering it up by trying to intercept the mailman whenever report card would be sent home. I remember fidgety hours I would spend in my living room, trying to peek at when the mailman would come, and sneaking away my report card into my room. And when my parents finalized asked where the report card was, I panicked. I could not face the humiliation of letting them see a “B” in my grades. Especially not that “B” in math. My parents would be devastated. So I sneaked upstairs to my room, and photocopied my report card onto my computer, and painstakingly photoshopped the letters to change them into “A”s. I did that to every single one of my report cards that year.

Looking back, I cannot say why I did what I did. I cannot comprehend how my mind might have warped to thinking that by changing those Bs into As, I could lie not just to my parents, but to myself as well. It was as if, by photoshopping the A in place of the B, I even made myself believe I had gotten an A. And that was how I spent the majority of my senior year – running away from the truth, and lying in order to cover up the truth.

But the lies caught on fast. By the end of the year, when the valedictorian and salutatorian were announced, my name was not called. I remember there was a moment when time seemed to stand still. I was humiliated. I knew that everyone in the auditorium were wondering why I wasn’t announced as the salutatorian. Everyone in my class was so sure that I would be salutatorian, I was even interviewed by the school newspaper a week before as the salutatorian. Everyone was so sure that it even made me believe that I had the rights to the title. But looking back, I knew deep down that I was just lying to myself again. I had known that my GPA fell hard that year, but I kept telling myself, and my parents that they had nothing to worry about – everything would work out eventually.

But things didn’t magically work out. And at that moment, when my name wasn’t called, I realized my lies crumbling down in front of me. My heart sank deep, and I could feel tears starting to build from behind my eyes. And the first thought that came to mind then, was my parents. I could not let them know. My lies had to go on.

Those months before graduation were a blur to me. I lived each day hoping for the day to end. I avoided my parents at all costs. I holed myself in my room not doing anything. Sometimes I would cry silently, feeling sorry for myself. But I made sure that my parents would not know about me not being the salutatorian at all costs. I constantly hounded the front door, waiting for the newspaper to come so that my parents would not have to see on the newspaper that instead of their daughter’s picture next to the work “salutatorian”, it was someone else’s.

And somehow, this game of constant dodging and hiding lasted till the day of graduation. My mother had already gone back to China with my sister, so it was just my dad and I in my house. It was just a couple of hours before graduation. I was standing in the doorway, about to go back to my room so that I could avoid my father. But just as I was about to go up the stairs, my father walked down. He asked me, “Aren’t you supposed to write a speech today? I remember last year, there were speeches.” I looked down, not knowing what to say. “I – I” I managed to sputter out, “I’m….not the one giving a speech today.” There was silence. “What do you mean?” My father asked.

“It’s Emily. Not me, giving a speech.”

SMACK. My dad hit me in the face. I looked up. His face was red with anger. I immediately started crying, which only made him even more angry. He started throwing things on the ground, all the time yelling at me about how he always knew I was a failure and a disappointment for him. “After all the money I spent on you, this is how you repay me?”He yelled, “I cannot believe I have you as a daughter.” I could only stand and cry as he went around the house yelling at me. When he finally came back to where I stood and faced me. He looked me squarely in the face, and said, “I’m not going to your graduation.”

So that night, I had to go to graduation with my friend’s family. I lied and said my father was working. And as I walked down the football fiend to receive my diploma, I knew my father would not be in the sea of parents taking pictures of their children. And when the ceremony ended, when everyone else went to hug their parents, I just looked around the crowd, craning my neck, searching and hoping my father might miraculously show up.

He never did.

Looking back, I realized that aside from being miserable, all I did that year was running away. I ran away from my problems, afraid to confront my shortcomings and afraid to face the truth. But what I learned at the end of the day is that you can never run fast enough. Problems will always catch up to you. No matter what. Looking back, I wish I had stopped running before everything snowballed into a gigantic mess I did not stop until it was too late. I wish I could have had the courage to face my issues, and had the guts to try to fix those problems.

But of course, all that is in the past. Yes, I still find myself wanting to bolt away and run as fast as I can whenever I come across a problem. And no, I cannot say I’ve come to terms yet with who I am and what I want. I still have days when I feel my world falling apart, when responsibilities, feelings, and everything seem too overwhelming for me to bear.  There’s still days when I think I have no idea what I am doing. But now, instead of shutting myself in my room and crying in silence, I try to deal with each situation, head-on. That, I realized, was the only way I could ever stop myself from sinking into the black hole of lies and depression I fell into during senior year.

So, in light of this new year, here’s to new outlooks on life, and a better me. A happier me.