Depression for starters
Hi. I want to write in this blog about depression. I lived through a couple of periods of depression, and I'm currently standing in the middle of one, just not mine. Depression is a f*cking b*tch, no respect for anyone. It blinds us in a path of darkness where anything you do, go or expect take us down.
Please don't expect to find answers on how to deal with depression, yours or your partner's, these are only my own thoughts about it. Some may help, some will certainly not.
When I was a young kid I was bullied at school. My dad had to travel to Central America because of his work, my mom and I went with him a few months laters. I was on third grade. Life on Central America wasn't so hard for me as a kid, but on sixth grade we came back to Chile with my mother.
We arrived on winter, no school was receiving new students so I stayed at home for about a month, until my mom spoke to an old boss, and he managed to get me studying on a only-boys school.
I came from another country, with a strong Central American accent, didn't know about the Chilean culture and arrived in a social-political time of changes, 1985 was the year when Pinochet lost the plebiscite, democracy was on it's way. And boys in that age, I'm talking 12-13 year old teenagers, are rude. Their friend groups where already formed, I was simply an outsider that spoke English as a second language.
When I first presented myself in class, first of all I was cheated, a teacher who received me, told me to stand on a students row and "wait for him". He never came back, and the former teacher of that class, pointed me to follow them to the classroom. In the classroom I had to present myself, saying my name, where I came from, what did I know, what did I need. I went back to my desk and everyone began asking the same questions I already answered. Of course other kids had a couple of nicknames for me "Speedy Gonzalez" was one they never used.
I asked for orientation on Chilean history, but I didn't know that on the sixth grade my classmates knew less history than myself. I came from a school with high math and science formation, that made my way through that half of sixth grade far easier for me. It was supposed to be an adaptation period, but I was still an outsider. I also had my first fight, on Chile (I punched myself with an old friend of mine when I was living on the Dominican Republic). Don't remember why, but after a couple of punches a teacher appeared, and stopped the fight.
A year after our school moved to another place, I had already lost my foreign accent and spoke like a native Chilean kid, but there was a huge cultural difference between me and my classmates. I blame it on growing up on a different country, ther people, other family and personal values. I also partly blame the school social status, it was a high-salary family Catholic school, and sadly (it still is that way) more money doesn't make you a good person.
Teenagers on the turkey-age, as we say it on Spanish, are rude. there's a lot of competition on popularity and leadership. As an outsider I never felt myself as a leader, so I decided to do my best on studying, I became a nerd, and I still am. No followers, not to many friends, and almost all the other kids bullied me. I cried a lot, and even though I came to hate my life at school, I never said a teacher that I was crying because of a classmate bothering me.
Kids can be cruel, I was raised by my mother, my father was still abroad, and when he came back to Chile, our family was already divided. My classmates mocked me about that, and it hurted, a lot...
Life passed at school, I had a couple of more fights, leading to nowhere, just stating that I could punch faces if they bothered me over my limits. But I was still an outsider, I was never invited to parties or vacation or anything, I was just to different in every way. It didn't matter anymore, it was just life and school had to finish someday.
I remember one of my last interaction with people on my school. We had two graduation parties, one by our school and one by our parents. A classmate's father called to my house asking if I would go to the party. I tried to excuse myself saying, "No, I don have a girl friend to go with", but he was already finding aother classmate's sister to go with me. I had to be plainly honest and say "I'm not going because I don't want to know anything about the class."
School in Chile was a PITA for me. I fell on depression, started a treatment, went to therapy, and took medication. It was hard, actually, depression is hard, but I survived.
Nowadays bullying is treated on a completly different way, there's a lot of exposure due to social networks, and punching faces has been never the right way to solve any problem (even though it helps a bit). I know that some former classmates have their childs with bullying problems, and no, I don't feel that fate is balancing things. As an Uber driver said to my wife and I, "People do not care about people".
Please don't expect to find answers on how to deal with depression, yours or your partner's, these are only my own thoughts about it. Some may help, some will certainly not.
When I was a young kid I was bullied at school. My dad had to travel to Central America because of his work, my mom and I went with him a few months laters. I was on third grade. Life on Central America wasn't so hard for me as a kid, but on sixth grade we came back to Chile with my mother.
We arrived on winter, no school was receiving new students so I stayed at home for about a month, until my mom spoke to an old boss, and he managed to get me studying on a only-boys school.
I came from another country, with a strong Central American accent, didn't know about the Chilean culture and arrived in a social-political time of changes, 1985 was the year when Pinochet lost the plebiscite, democracy was on it's way. And boys in that age, I'm talking 12-13 year old teenagers, are rude. Their friend groups where already formed, I was simply an outsider that spoke English as a second language.
When I first presented myself in class, first of all I was cheated, a teacher who received me, told me to stand on a students row and "wait for him". He never came back, and the former teacher of that class, pointed me to follow them to the classroom. In the classroom I had to present myself, saying my name, where I came from, what did I know, what did I need. I went back to my desk and everyone began asking the same questions I already answered. Of course other kids had a couple of nicknames for me "Speedy Gonzalez" was one they never used.
I asked for orientation on Chilean history, but I didn't know that on the sixth grade my classmates knew less history than myself. I came from a school with high math and science formation, that made my way through that half of sixth grade far easier for me. It was supposed to be an adaptation period, but I was still an outsider. I also had my first fight, on Chile (I punched myself with an old friend of mine when I was living on the Dominican Republic). Don't remember why, but after a couple of punches a teacher appeared, and stopped the fight.
A year after our school moved to another place, I had already lost my foreign accent and spoke like a native Chilean kid, but there was a huge cultural difference between me and my classmates. I blame it on growing up on a different country, ther people, other family and personal values. I also partly blame the school social status, it was a high-salary family Catholic school, and sadly (it still is that way) more money doesn't make you a good person.
Teenagers on the turkey-age, as we say it on Spanish, are rude. there's a lot of competition on popularity and leadership. As an outsider I never felt myself as a leader, so I decided to do my best on studying, I became a nerd, and I still am. No followers, not to many friends, and almost all the other kids bullied me. I cried a lot, and even though I came to hate my life at school, I never said a teacher that I was crying because of a classmate bothering me.
Kids can be cruel, I was raised by my mother, my father was still abroad, and when he came back to Chile, our family was already divided. My classmates mocked me about that, and it hurted, a lot...
Life passed at school, I had a couple of more fights, leading to nowhere, just stating that I could punch faces if they bothered me over my limits. But I was still an outsider, I was never invited to parties or vacation or anything, I was just to different in every way. It didn't matter anymore, it was just life and school had to finish someday.
I remember one of my last interaction with people on my school. We had two graduation parties, one by our school and one by our parents. A classmate's father called to my house asking if I would go to the party. I tried to excuse myself saying, "No, I don have a girl friend to go with", but he was already finding aother classmate's sister to go with me. I had to be plainly honest and say "I'm not going because I don't want to know anything about the class."
School in Chile was a PITA for me. I fell on depression, started a treatment, went to therapy, and took medication. It was hard, actually, depression is hard, but I survived.
Nowadays bullying is treated on a completly different way, there's a lot of exposure due to social networks, and punching faces has been never the right way to solve any problem (even though it helps a bit). I know that some former classmates have their childs with bullying problems, and no, I don't feel that fate is balancing things. As an Uber driver said to my wife and I, "People do not care about people".
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