Never Give Up

It is that time of year when South African high school students are finishing off their final year at school and the levels of stress amongst the students and parents alike are at an all time high.

This time of year always takes me back to 1984 when I was preparing for my final exams.

I am not sure which exam I was studying for that fateful, fortunate, strange (not sure what to call it) night when I was sitting on my bed studying and listening to the voices on the other side of my bedroom door.  It was the voices of my mother and siblings, and they were having a good old conversation and laugh amongst themselves.  It was at that point that I realised that it did not matter how hard I had tried over the years to get my mother's attention or did everything I could to please her, it was just never going to be enough or even ever happen.

I decided there and then that enough was enough for me, and that perhaps ending my life, would be the best thing to do.  I sat there looking around my room at what I could use to end my life and thought that maybe I should try stopping my blood from flowing and then I will eventually die.  Afterall, no one was going to notice I was gone, and there would be just one less person to worry about in this big family.

Grabbing my stockings, I wrapped them around my wrists and started pulling them tight with the hope that it was going to do the job.  (I am sitting laughing now about how silly I must have looked) but at the time it was no laughing matter.  I kept thinking about my high school years and how I participated in plays or sang in the choir and my mother was just not interested in seeing me perform.  I worked from age 12 part-time so I could help support the family because it was always thrown up in my face that the government grant did not include the first-born.  Yes my mother received a grant from the then "Coloured Affairs" all of R45 per month and believe it or not she was told that one of the conditions of receiving the grant was that she was not allowed to work.  Who in their right mind was going to adhere to that rule raising five children?  

Anyhow that was my reason for making sure I worked weekends and I religiously handed my salary to my mother every weekend.  By my final year of high school while my classmates were probably out partying weekends and having fun I was holding down three jobs.

Anyway getting back to that night.  All these reasons for trying to do the right thing by my mother and everyone else was suddenly getting me down and I guess it was at that moment that I felt most depressed and just wanted to end it all.

By now you must be asking the question so what happened that I did not succeed in ending my life?

The answer is not that I did not succeed, I chose not to end my life, and decided that hanging around and being a pain in their (family) proverbial you know what was going to be the best thing to do.  On making that decision, I loosened the stockings and carried on studying.

On looking back on this event in my life, I would like all parents with young teenagers to make the time to take an interest in what they are doing.  It might seem like they are happy but sometimes they are feeling at their lowest especially when they are faced with the stresses of growing up and having to face the adult world on the other side of high school.

To all the teenagers who are feeling like you are not worthy of being around, do not give up on life.  Speak up and say how you are feeling.  Not all parents are mind readers and most of them are still trying to find the handbook with all the answers to raising you.

Beyond this chapter of your life is a whole world of possibilities and if it seems like there are none, then go out and create them for yourself and others like you.