I honestly don’t know what to say. I’d much rather be speaking in front of the Academic Appeals Committee and Tony Nowak. It isn’t because I don’t like writing, in fact I love it, writing helps me to think and escape. But, sometimes I feel it hard to write out my emotions the way they need to be conveyed and in this case it would be my sincerity and need to show you that what I say is not just full of meaningless and false excuses.
In order to make an attempt at explaining why I feel I did so poorly I will try and share a quick back story. My apologies ahead of time if I begin to ramble in places. As I’m sure you can see by looking at my grades from grade school and up I did very well. I’ve worked hard my school career to try and keep an “A”/“B” grade average and tried for “A”s all the time. I’ve been in accelerated classes most of my school life and it is not that I am bragging, by no means am I doing so, I am not the type to do so, honestly I tend to be very hard on myself and never feel good enough. I love to learn, I love to feel my knowledge grow and be able to go somewhere, read something, or see something and know how it works, why it was made, how to perceive it. I enjoy hanging out with people smarter than me in different subjects so I can learn what they can share. All I’ve ever wanted and worked toward was college. I yearned for the knowledge and experience I would gain in college, which ever major I chose. I hated homework most of the time, but was so excited for the challenge of college work, for the thought of working hard in the thing I wanted to do and that made me feel my hard work was worth something. So, even through the depression I was slipping farther and farther into since the age of thirteen, I was able to keep my school life separated from my problems. I was doing fine, I had a system going and then the summer before junior year in high school happened.
Summer brought to me a boy who for the first time in years brought a real smile to my face, one that I could feel warm through to my soul that lasted more than five seconds. I had someone who actually cared about me. He let me have a chance to show how weak I really was. I have always had to be the strong one to my friends and family, so showing too much weakness I guess scared them or they just didn’t care or think that maybe I need help too. And in this joy of finding someone who made me feel real happiness I was foolish and shoved aside the problems that needed work, healing, I carelessly let my walls go un-attended and crumble to nothing. But, when he was here nothing but feeling happy mattered and I didn’t know what I was doing to myself. The boy, Joel, and I were obviously in a relationship and when the school year came to a start he left for his first year of college two and a half hours away in Platteville. Now, yes I was sad my boyfriend would be so far away and that we’d only see each other maybe a weekend a month, but I knew that this was coming. What I didn’t know or think about once was that as soon as he was out of sight and on his way that everything I had been fighting back and building protective stabilizing walls for would come crashing down on me like a massive black wave. And it did, I remember the shock and the pain, how as soon as he had driven away I dropped to my knees and felt all the warmth and light in me slip away, follow him, like it wasn’t mine to keep and the cold crashed through me and I felt Darkness laugh as its deadly embrace surrounded me. I was stupid and didn’t prepare for anything; I was too swept up in a boy and in joy. I cried in my room for two weeks straight, barely leaving and most of the tears weren’t for Joel and that our relationship would be hard. I watched as if a part of me, the real me, wasn’t in control and was forced only to be able to watch what the rest of me did.
I had no drive for pretty much anything, no motivation. My best girlfriend, the only one I felt like I really had when Joel was gone, left me for strange made up reasons that everyone but her knew was a lie. She left me in the dust, left me when I needed her most. And even though it hurt so bad, sadly part of me was used to it, waited for it to happen. I used to be so proud of the mask that I was able to create and wear so perfectly that no one could see through it and see my real emotions unless I wanted them to. I had worn it for years for protection and false strength and I found myself with such a lack of drive that I couldn’t even keep that up. My breakdowns were coming closer and closer in time periods, I found myself eventually not being able to even start to build up my walls before they would tumble down. My breakdowns were coming faster and harder than they ever had and they terrified me. Along with that, all I would do is sit in my dark room and suffer. I would sit and stare at my homework, I tried so hard to get myself to do it, I hated that I was just sitting there watching all my hard work go down the drain, and yet it wasn’t enough. I would sit through being yelled at for being lazy because I guess my mother just saw me as being a lazy idiot who knows better and is hormonal. Maybe she just refused to accept that it was more, all I know is I hated her for telling me it’s just hormones. It killed me because she was my mom, one of my best friends and my mother, she should have been able to see I was messed up. That, and the fact that I was disappointing her and my dad killed me more.
For a very long time, or what felt like it, I had no one except Joel when he would call every night, when it seemed I would fall into a different world, like when he actually came to visit. I was different, I would get a break from my broken self and then he would leave and it would all happen all over again. And then somehow in my blind stumbling at school a friend became a best friend, Britni. And before that happened I had started talking more, online, with a church friend, William. And it was strange, but something told me to tell him things (I’ve had trust issues since the time in my life that I realized most of my friends use me) and we would talk and that got me feeling social enough to talk more with Britni. I had gained two new best friends and Joel, but that seemed to do so little. I crescendoed into my worst stage yet.
So desperate to find something as cold as me, I one day held a chef's knife to my throat when doing dishes alone at home. I walked away from the sink into the living room and at first the tears came because for a few seconds it was almost as cold as I was, and then I dropped the knife, fell to my knees and cried at the shock of myself doing that, not that I was going to hurt myself, but that I was so desperate, that that was so stupid and just a heartbreaking thing to witness let alone be the one doing it. Then the most terrifying thing happened about a month later. I was sitting at a desk in my house attempting homework feeling numb and having an okay day I guess you could say; when out of nowhere it hit me and I knew I had to run somewhere more private because I was about to breakdown. So I ran seven feet to the sun room, I wouldn’t have made it upstairs to my room in the small amount of time that I had and I prefer to hide my weakness . I managed to shut the door quietly and then it hit. This had never happened before, I could always feel them coming on. Panic set in first, my mind was all over the place, I scratched an itch on my arm and couldn’t stop, I was spinning in a circle, scratching harder and harder, then scratching and hitting my head because the wolf that I had dreamed about-personifying my darkness, was growling and snapping at me in the room. I knew it wasn’t real, but I could swear I could see it in the corner of my eye and hear it and I wanted it to stop. Then sobs broke out and the hole in my chest ripped open more, ripped open new healing wounds and I dropped to the ground and clawed at my heart trying to rip it out; I wanted it gone so I could finally give up and float in nothingness. If someone would have seen me they probably would have locked me up, and I knew this. Eventually it passed and I was able to sneak up to my room and cry myself to sleep all the while being even more terrified at what I had become and sobbing because I couldn’t do anything to fix this, I didn’t know how.
Around that time Joel and I had decided we wanted to always be together, a promise ring sort of thing, a secret engagement between the two of us. Along with that William and I were becoming amazingly close. We would talk most everyday and we found that we were two of a kind, twins. I helped him, he helped me. Joel helped me, but Will helped with what Joel couldn’t. I was finally starting to feel a little more in control of my life, of my demons. Finding someone who sees and thinks like me is something I have needed most of my life, since I was small, and in finding that with Will and having Joel and Britni, my walls were able to be touched and slowly began the process of rebuilding.
Summer came and brought Joel back to me and I worked on using the warmth he brought me to really start on building my walls. But then I had found out he had cheated on me twice in our first year of dating. I was stupid and me being me chose to stay with him because of the good in him, and he was changing into a better person. Eventually after getting engaged on our two year anniversary and my graduation, after getting my grades back up a little more and just starting to barely separate my school life from my personal life again, I was accepted into MIAD. I was given more hell to struggle through with Joel, but never stopped trying and doing everything for him, I always told him everything, even when I found myself falling for William and being very confused and fighting it he knew. And then on our third year anniversary I broke up with Joel, well we say it was mutual, but it was more me. I decided that if I couldn’t be 100% devoted to him I shouldn’t be engaged to him, it just wasn’t fair to Joel, even if we were going to wait at least two more years. You see, Will had left on a church mission two months prior to the break up and would be gone for two years and I wasn’t getting married without my twin being there. Anyway, this was the summer before my sophomore year at MIAD and it was a very hard summer. Joel dragged my heart all over the place, I was racked with guilt, still wanted to be his, still loved him. And on top of it all I was terribly confused with how I loved Will and he was gone. He and I were left to writing letters and emails once a week; that is hard when you’re used to having each other for help and advise the day you need it. I had felt like the only long lasting stable future in my life, a whole life, was ripped out from under me, crumbled to nothing, because it was. And then I realized that I at least would always have my twin to help me through anything.
When sophomore year arrived the worst started. Joel had a car and came back more often; he would treat me amazingly and be like the best boyfriend ever because despite what we said we practically were a couple and still loved each other. Yet this whole thing was wrong and I was depressed about Will being gone on top of the depression I was still battling. I found myself being used by Joel more and more, slapped around, lifted up then slammed back down and I felt my grip on my life, the small weak grip I had, slipping through my fingers…and then gone. I again helplessly watched as my grades slipped and the horror of me killing my college career wasn’t enough to gain any motivation. At random times I would find some and get really close to done with my projects, but then it would vanish and I’d be staring at a nearly done project or paper.
Finally something in me clicked, the words William had always told me clicked in, that all he wants in life is for me to be happy, to make the choices I need to be happy. I think that when I stopped feeling guilty over my breakup with Joel, especially when I realized he didn’t deserve it one bit anymore, I was able to take the step away from Joel that I needed. I realized that I needed to start doing things for me and not for everyone else like I always have, including for William. And to be honest, even through all of the things that I discovered throughout my life, I never realized until now that I wasn’t really living much for me. I found myself not stopping my crush on a classmate for a long time now despite my love for Will and I hated myself for that. It made me more confused about who I am. But, something was telling me to listen to Will and follow my gut. My gut said to take a chance, jump, tell that boy, Kevin, that you like him because when you’re with him you actually feel relaxed and trusting and comfort, things you haven’t had with someone since Will left. And I knew that if I did that one small simple thing of telling Kevin, even if I got rejection- which would have been perfectly fine- that I would be stepping onto a path that meant doing something for me. A path that I can’t predict how things are going to work out which is what I needed pushed in my face. To stop being so scared and trapped and make decisions I want and to let the consequences come as they may. So I did, and I was right, my gut was right; I felt a taste of liberation. I finally feel real drive now and it hasn’t left yet. I don’t feel as trapped anymore. Things that have been tormenting me most of my life are finally forgiven and let go, they’ve let go of me.
It was two weeks before the end of this past semester that I started to feel this way, and a week before the last day of school I truly felt better than I have in about eight years. I’m not afraid to let light in and, well, I don’t know. I knew that I wouldn’t be allowed to come back to MIAD and two weeks before the semester’s end all I could focus on was how I failed everyone, my parents, my teachers, the friends who cared, and myself. But, then I stopped myself because otherwise I would lose myself again. I realized more than ever that it is my life and if I screwed up I should worry about disappointing myself, because my fear of disappointing my parents I found, was more me living for them. Especially my mother, that I was doing so much for her and not myself. I’m still scared to tell them, but only because I know they won’t believe me when I tell them that now that I have failed school I’m now ready for it, and I just hate to disappoint them anyway they are my parents and they care and believe in me. I’m ready for school and for myself, for what life brings me. I’m still messed up, but for the first time I am truly living for myself and that has brought a drive and motivation that I have never felt. I know that I can be here for my friends and still be here for myself, that William and I will always be twins, that I’m starting to learn who I am and finally starting to be able to connect my two halves of me because I’ve always been split on everything, always at war with myself. Like I said, I still have a lot to work on, my best friend is still a year away, I will have to live with my parent’s disappointment, lack of trust and bad mood toward me, but even with that I feel so good now. I have a real chance at fixing me, of letting go and living, of finally, finally, starting to beat my depression. To not just build walls around my darkness, but to put in windows and work through it and let it out.
I hate that I have fallen so far that I am in the position of writing a letter to try and be allowed back into my college, I never thought this would happen, just like I never thought junior year in high school would get like how it did, that I would let myself down in such an important aspect of my life and not be able to do a thing. But now I can and I am. I’ve accepted what has happened and I’m not letting it send me back to being trapped. I have a firm hold on my life now for the first time and I will fight to my death to keep it, I will never let it go. I can’t say that if I was allowed back to MIAD that I would be a straight “A” student, but I can say that I will work as hard as I can and do my best because that is all I can give, I won’t fool myself into thinking I can do more and let it stress me out and feel constant failure. I’ve also realized that I don’t want to major in Illustration, I love doing it, but I originally came for animation and throughout my figure drawing class I learned how much I think like an animator and how much I love knowing how something was animated. I think back to the rotoscope I did and I feel all the passion that I’ve been missing. That is what I want, to have my illustrations come to life and I want to be the one to do it. I want to major in Animation, minor in Illustration, and eventually major or minor in Creative Writing. Perhaps it is my desire to live and not be chained down that fuels my desire to animate, but I know now that that is what I want to do. I am glad that I realized this now rather than earlier this past semester because even though not having as much passion in illustration didn’t help me, being in the classes I was able to learn that illustration isn’t my major no matter how much I love it. That, and that I got to have Tom Noffsinger as a teacher the whole year and he really helped me in a lot of ways, whether he knows it or not.
And to end this, still not knowing exactly what to say, I will say what kept running through my head the last two school weeks. “You know, it really sucks that during my chance to prove myself able to stay in school that I just did worse and lost what little motivation I had, that all of the worst things had to happen this semester and how I hate that everyone is having a hard time yet I am too weak to separate and push myself to motivate. And, now that I finally feel ready for school, after four years of not being able to handle school and my life, I’m not going to be able to come back.”
I would greatly appreciate being able to work something out and being able to attend MIAD in the coming semester.
Bonita Navarrete
