My Low Point

My Low Point

Published and Distributed by Lisa Miller Printed in the United States of America First edition, first printing 2017

Original text by Lisa Miller Edits to original text by Tom Miller Text Design by Lisa Miller

Print and Production by Harlan Graphic Arts Service, Inc.

For my family,

Because you have been my constant companions. I didn't appreciate you enough then and I certainly don't appreciate you enough now. Thank you for the continuous love and support.

What’s the Issue? Among millennials, deep, abiding friendships are not nearly as common as they were for previous generations. Communication tools like texting, emailing, and social media have profoundly affected the way we interrelate. We censor ourselves by talking less — limiting what we reveal. We like to keep the stories of our lives comfortably controlled through various screens.

What’s the Project? This is one book within a series that tells my most significant life stories and shows how I censor myself when telling them. This particular book describes the lowest point in my life. You will find that what I reveal depends on my closeness to the person I’m telling as well as the time and energy I'm willing to spend telling it. This story contains a lot of loneliness and despair, which I am hesitant to share with anyone. My hope is that as I progressively disclose the details of my story, you might reflect on how you do the same in the telling of your life stories.

Getting Acquainted

Is high school difficult for everyone? I’m not referring to the coursework or the teachers. I think that emotionally, high school is hard. There are all these hormones swimming around – all this pressure to figure out what you want for your future. I never trust anyone who describes high school as the “glory days.” 1

I’m not suggesting that there weren’t some bright spots during the whole “high school experience.” I’m just pointing out that overall, high school sucks.2

In the grand scheme of my life thus far, my absolute lowest point came when I was a Sophomore in high school. In looking back on it, perhaps I handled the whole situation poorly, but it’s hard to navigate these life-moments when you’re distracted by your own distressed thoughts.3

Here’s what happened.

I was 15 years old. My hair was a frizzy mess. I was in the marching band and on the math team, and my favorite weekend activity was having board game parties with my friends. I attended Marist High School, a private Catholic school located in the far southwest side of Chicago. I had only attended public school through junior high, so the transition to a private high school forced me to make a whole new set of friends. Fortunately, I was able to do just that! I met some amazing people. We were a tight group, but no two of us were tighter than Kristen and me. She and I would text all evening and work on homework together over Skype. We shared all of our secrets.4

Throughout Freshman year, Kristen was in love5 with our friend Dennis. She knew his entire schedule and would plan to “accidentally” run into him throughout every day. When our group hung out, she would

1. This person is either A) lying to me or B) someone I would have hated in high school.

2. Perhaps I’m biased.

3. I’m getting a little ahead of myself though.

4. Every little thing our teenaged hearts felt

5. I do not say “in love” flippantly.

3

always go right to him. Dennis was more than a little overwhelmed by Kristen. He had no interest in being anything more than just friends, and eventually told her as much. Kristen was heartbroken and shattered.

Some time later, on a December evening, Kristen shared with me her love for another mutual friend, Jake. I expressed my concerns to her. Having dealt with the aftermath and pain of the Dennis Debacle, I didn't want to let her embarrass herself or be hurt again. I told her I thought she should “back off” Jake a little,6 and not engulf him with her feelings. Kristen abruptly announced that she was going to bed and didn’t want to talk anymore. I could tell she was upset, but she ended the conver-sation before allowing me to say anything more. I later sent her a text to apologize for hurting her feelings, and reiterated that I just wanted to see her happy.7 I expected her to have forgiven me by the next day at school. I was wrong.

I walked into my first class that day and found it odd that none of my friends would chat with me before the bell. No one would even really look at me directly. I noticed a lot of side-ways glances and heard a lot of hushed whispers. By the end of class I was anxious to learn what was up. I asked the group what was going on. They all looked at each other nervously before Shannon turned to me and explained.

“Kristen and Jake have started dating. She told us that you were jealous and tried to talk her out of it, and that it would be best if we all didn’t continue hanging out with you.” Before I could respond, the bell rang and everyone dispersed, heading off to the next class.

That’s all I really remember of the encounter.8 The group carried on as if nothing had changed, but I was no longer a part of it. I wasn’t invited

to the board game nights or the bonfires or anything else for the next year. I got used to being alone.

I would go home from school and then work out for hours before doing homework. I felt I had to dedicate myself to something, so exercise and calorie counting became my obsession. I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw so I strove to change it.

My routine became:

Wake up. Go to school. Come home. Work out. Cry in the shower. Eat as little as possible. Do homework. Go to bed. Repeat.

It was a miserable ritual. Occasionally, someone would talk to me when we were apart from the group, but the ostracism clearly remained. Shannon would give me books9 to help me occupy my open schedule. This was how I acquired the book that left me numb.

“Thirteen Reasons Why” by Jay Asher is the story of Hannah Baker and the thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. These “reasons” were actually thirteen specific people, and the things they had done that contributed to her deep sense of anger, loneliness, and despair.

I could relate to Hannah.

6. Perhaps my own Freshman year crush on Jake might have influenced my use of the phrase “backoff” but I prefer to think that this didn’t play a role in my effort to dissuade Kristen from her pursuit of Jake.

7. I honestly can’t remember if I ever got a response.

8. It’s odd, because sometimes you just don’t realize you’re at the end of something until you’re already on the other side of it, looking back.

9. I suppose these were acts of kindness

4 5

Like her, I was bitter and I was mad. As a generally intelligent and logical person, it frustrated me that I was so miserable. I lived in a nice house, went to a good school, and had a loving family. It didn’t make sense that I could let someone do this to me.

What did make sense, in my mind, was to start my own list. What names would be on my list? Who had caused me to feel such pain? Who would I hold accountable for my death?

I don’t remember specifically feeling like I was going to kill myself. I think I just wanted someone to blame for all that I was feeling, and all that I wasn’t feeling.

Eventually, my parents recognized that I wasn’t “right” and they just observed my general melancholy. My mother went into my room one afternoon when I wasn’t home to see if my journal could shed light on my state of mind. It did. She found the list I had started.

Shortly after reading my journal, my parents arranged for me to start a relationship with a therapist. It worked. She helped me realize that I needed to let go of the loneliness and pain, as well as the people and circumstances that caused it. “Letting go and letting God” became my mantra. It has continued to serve me well since.

6

Is high school difficult for everyone? I’m not referring to the coursework or the teachers. I think that emotionally, high school is hard. There are all these hormones swimming around – all this pressure to figure out what you want for your future. I never trust anyone who describes high school as the “glory days.” 1

I’m not suggesting that there weren’t some bright spots during the whole “high school experience.” I’m just pointing out that overall, high school sucks.2

In the grand scheme of my life thus far, my absolute lowest point came when I was a Sophomore in high school. In looking back on it, perhaps I handled the whole situation poorly, but it’s hard to navigate these life-moments when you’re distracted by your own distressed thoughts.3

Here’s what happened.

I was 15 years old. My hair was a frizzy mess. I was in the marching band and on the math team, and my favorite weekend activity was having board game parties with my friends. I attended Marist High School, a private Catholic school located in the far southwest side of Chicago. I had only attended public school through junior high, so the transition to a private high school forced me to make a whole new set of friends. Fortunately, I was able to do just that! I met some amazing people. We were a tight group, but no two of us were tighter than Kristen and me. She and I would text all evening and work on homework together over Skype. We shared all of our secrets.4

Throughout Freshman year, Kristen was in love5 with our friend Dennis. She knew his entire schedule and would plan to “accidentally” run into him throughout every day. When our group hung out, she would

1. This person is either A) lying to me or B) someone I would have hated in high school.

2. Perhaps I’m biased.

3. I’m getting a little ahead of myself though.

4. Every little thing our teenaged hearts felt

5. I do not say “in love” flippantly.

11

always go right to him. Dennis was more than a little overwhelmed by Kristen. He had no interest in being anything more than just friends, and eventually told her as much. Kristen was heartbroken and shattered.

Some time later, on a December evening, Kristen shared with me her love for another mutual friend, Jake. I expressed my concerns to her. Having dealt with the aftermath and pain of the Dennis Debacle, I didn't want to let her embarrass herself or be hurt again. I told her I thought she should “back off” Jake a little,6 and not engulf him with her feelings. Kristen abruptly announced that she was going to bed and didn’t want to talk anymore. I could tell she was upset, but she ended the conver-sation before allowing me to say anything more. I later sent her a text to apologize for hurting her feelings, and reiterated that I just wanted to see her happy.7 I expected her to have forgiven me by the next day at school. I was wrong.

I walked into my first class that day and found it odd that none of my friends would chat with me before the bell. No one would even really look at me directly. I noticed a lot of side-ways glances and heard a lot of hushed whispers. By the end of class I was anxious to learn what was up. I asked the group what was going on. They all looked at each other nervously before Shannon turned to me and explained.

“Kristen and Jake have started dating. She told us that you were jealous and tried to talk her out of it, and that it would be best if we all didn’t continue hanging out with you.” Before I could respond, the bell rang and everyone dispersed, heading off to the next class.

That’s all I really remember of the encounter.8 The group carried on as if nothing had changed, but I was no longer a part of it. I wasn’t invited

to the board game nights or the bonfires or anything else for the next year. I got used to being alone.

I would go home from school and then work out for hours before doing homework. I felt I had to dedicate myself to something, so exercise and calorie counting became my obsession. I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw so I strove to change it.

My routine became:

Wake up. Go to school. Come home. Work out. Cry in the shower. Eat as little as possible. Do homework. Go to bed. Repeat.

It was a miserable ritual. Occasionally, someone would talk to me when we were apart from the group, but the ostracism clearly remained. Shannon would give me books9 to help me occupy my open schedule. This was how I acquired the book that left me numb.

“Thirteen Reasons Why” by Jay Asher is the story of Hannah Baker and the thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. These “reasons” were actually thirteen specific people, and the things they had done that contributed to her deep sense of anger, loneliness, and despair.

I could relate to Hannah.

6. Perhaps my own Freshman year crush on Jake might have influenced my use of the phrase “backoff” but I prefer to think that this didn’t play a role in my effort to dissuade Kristen from her pursuit of Jake.

7. I honestly can’t remember if I ever got a response.

8. It’s odd, because sometimes you just don’t realize you’re at the end of something until you’re already on the other side of it, looking back.

9. I suppose these were acts of kindness

12 13

Like her, I was bitter and I was mad. As a generally intelligent and logical person, it frustrated me that I was so miserable. I lived in a nice house, went to a good school, and had a loving family. It didn’t make sense that I could let someone do this to me.

What did make sense, in my mind, was to start my own list. What names would be on my list? Who had caused me to feel such pain? Who would I hold accountable for my death?

I don’t remember specifically feeling like I was going to kill myself. I think I just wanted someone to blame for all that I was feeling, and all that I wasn’t feeling.

Eventually, my parents recognized that I wasn’t “right” and they just observed my general melancholy. My mother went into my room one afternoon when I wasn’t home to see if my journal could shed light on my state of mind. It did. She found the list I had started.

Shortly after reading my journal, my parents arranged for me to start a relationship with a therapist. It worked. She helped me realize that I needed to let go of the loneliness and pain, as well as the people and circumstances that caused it. “Letting go and letting God” became my mantra. It has continued to serve me well since.

14

Is high school difficult for everyone? I’m not referring to the coursework or the teachers. I think that emotionally, high school is hard. There are all these hormones swimming around – all this pressure to figure out what you want for your future. I never trust anyone who describes high school as the “glory days.” 1

I’m not suggesting that there weren’t some bright spots during the whole “high school experience.” I’m just pointing out that overall, high school sucks.2

In the grand scheme of my life thus far, my absolute lowest point came when I was a Sophomore in high school. In looking back on it, perhaps I handled the whole situation poorly, but it’s hard to navigate these life-moments when you’re distracted by your own distressed thoughts.3

Here’s what happened.

I was 15 years old. My hair was a frizzy mess. I was in the marching band and on the math team, and my favorite weekend activity was having board game parties with my friends. I attended Marist High School, a private Catholic school located in the far southwest side of Chicago. I had only attended public school through junior high, so the transition to a private high school forced me to make a whole new set of friends. Fortunately, I was able to do just that! I met some amazing people. We were a tight group, but no two of us were tighter than Kristen and me. She and I would text all evening and work on homework together over Skype. We shared all of our secrets.4

Throughout Freshman year, Kristen was in love5 with our friend Dennis. She knew his entire schedule and would plan to “accidentally” run into him throughout every day. When our group hung out, she would

1. This person is either A) lying to me or B) someone I would have hated in high school.

2. Perhaps I’m biased.

3. I’m getting a little ahead of myself though.

4. Every little thing our teenaged hearts felt

5. I do not say “in love” flippantly.

19

always go right to him. Dennis was more than a little overwhelmed by Kristen. He had no interest in being anything more than just friends, and eventually told her as much. Kristen was heartbroken and shattered.

Some time later, on a December evening, Kristen shared with me her love for another mutual friend, Jake. I expressed my concerns to her. Having dealt with the aftermath and pain of the Dennis Debacle, I didn't want to let her embarrass herself or be hurt again. I told her I thought she should “back off” Jake a little,6 and not engulf him with her feelings. Kristen abruptly announced that she was going to bed and didn’t want to talk anymore. I could tell she was upset, but she ended the conver-sation before allowing me to say anything more. I later sent her a text to apologize for hurting her feelings, and reiterated that I just wanted to see her happy.7 I expected her to have forgiven me by the next day at school. I was wrong.

I walked into my first class that day and found it odd that none of my friends would chat with me before the bell. No one would even really look at me directly. I noticed a lot of side-ways glances and heard a lot of hushed whispers. By the end of class I was anxious to learn what was up. I asked the group what was going on. They all looked at each other nervously before Shannon turned to me and explained.

“Kristen and Jake have started dating. She told us that you were jealous and tried to talk her out of it, and that it would be best if we all didn’t continue hanging out with you.” Before I could respond, the bell rang and everyone dispersed, heading off to the next class.

That’s all I really remember of the encounter.8 The group carried on as if nothing had changed, but I was no longer a part of it. I wasn’t invited

to the board game nights or the bonfires or anything else for the next year. I got used to being alone.

I would go home from school and then work out for hours before doing homework. I felt I had to dedicate myself to something, so exercise and calorie counting became my obsession. I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw so I strove to change it.

My routine became:

Wake up. Go to school. Come home. Work out. Cry in the shower. Eat as little as possible. Do homework. Go to bed. Repeat.

It was a miserable ritual. Occasionally, someone would talk to me when we were apart from the group, but the ostracism clearly remained. Shannon would give me books9 to help me occupy my open schedule. This was how I acquired the book that left me numb.

“Thirteen Reasons Why” by Jay Asher is the story of Hannah Baker and the thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. These “reasons” were actually thirteen specific people, and the things they had done that contributed to her deep sense of anger, loneliness, and despair.

I could relate to Hannah.

6. Perhaps my own Freshman year crush on Jake might have influenced my use of the phrase “backoff” but I prefer to think that this didn’t play a role in my effort to dissuade Kristen from her pursuit of Jake.

7. I honestly can’t remember if I ever got a response.

8. It’s odd, because sometimes you just don’t realize you’re at the end of something until you’re already on the other side of it, looking back.

9. I suppose these were acts of kindness

20 21

Like her, I was bitter and I was mad. As a generally intelligent and logical person, it frustrated me that I was so miserable. I lived in a nice house, went to a good school, and had a loving family. It didn’t make sense that I could let someone do this to me.

What did make sense, in my mind, was to start my own list. What names would be on my list? Who had caused me to feel such pain? Who would I hold accountable for my death?

I don’t remember specifically feeling like I was going to kill myself. I think I just wanted someone to blame for all that I was feeling, and all that I wasn’t feeling.

Eventually, my parents recognized that I wasn’t “right” and they just observed my general melancholy. My mother went into my room one afternoon when I wasn’t home to see if my journal could shed light on my state of mind. It did. She found the list I had started.

Shortly after reading my journal, my parents arranged for me to start a relationship with a therapist. It worked. She helped me realize that I needed to let go of the loneliness and pain, as well as the people and circumstances that caused it. “Letting go and letting God” became my mantra. It has continued to serve me well since.

22

Is high school difficult for everyone? I’m not referring to the coursework or the teachers. I think that emotionally, high school is hard. There are all these hormones swimming around – all this pressure to figure out what you want for your future. I never trust anyone who describes high school as the “glory days.” 1

I’m not suggesting that there weren’t some bright spots during the whole “high school experience.” I’m just pointing out that overall, high school sucks.2

In the grand scheme of my life thus far, my absolute lowest point came when I was a Sophomore in high school. In looking back on it, perhaps I handled the whole situation poorly, but it’s hard to navigate these life-moments when you’re distracted by your own distressed thoughts.3

Here’s what happened.

I was 15 years old. My hair was a frizzy mess. I was in the marching band and on the math team, and my favorite weekend activity was having board game parties with my friends. I attended Marist High School, a private Catholic school located in the far southwest side of Chicago. I had only attended public school through junior high, so the transition to a private high school forced me to make a whole new set of friends. Fortunately, I was able to do just that! I met some amazing people. We were a tight group, but no two of us were tighter than Kristen and me. She and I would text all evening and work on homework together over Skype. We shared all of our secrets.4

Throughout Freshman year, Kristen was in love5 with our friend Dennis. She knew his entire schedule and would plan to “accidentally” run into him throughout every day. When our group hung out, she would

1. This person is either A) lying to me or B) someone I would have hated in high school.

2. Perhaps I’m biased.

3. I’m getting a little ahead of myself though.

4. Every little thing our teenaged hearts felt

5. I do not say “in love” flippantly.

27

always go right to him. Dennis was more than a little overwhelmed by Kristen. He had no interest in being anything more than just friends, and eventually told her as much. Kristen was heartbroken and shattered.

Some time later, on a December evening, Kristen shared with me her love for another mutual friend, Jake. I expressed my concerns to her. Having dealt with the aftermath and pain of the Dennis Debacle, I didn't want to let her embarrass herself or be hurt again. I told her I thought she should “back off” Jake a little,6 and not engulf him with her feelings. Kristen abruptly announced that she was going to bed and didn’t want to talk anymore. I could tell she was upset, but she ended the conver-sation before allowing me to say anything more. I later sent her a text to apologize for hurting her feelings, and reiterated that I just wanted to see her happy.7 I expected her to have forgiven me by the next day at school. I was wrong.

I walked into my first class that day and found it odd that none of my friends would chat with me before the bell. No one would even really look at me directly. I noticed a lot of side-ways glances and heard a lot of hushed whispers. By the end of class I was anxious to learn what was up. I asked the group what was going on. They all looked at each other nervously before Shannon turned to me and explained.

“Kristen and Jake have started dating. She told us that you were jealous and tried to talk her out of it, and that it would be best if we all didn’t continue hanging out with you.” Before I could respond, the bell rang and everyone dispersed, heading off to the next class.

That’s all I really remember of the encounter.8 The group carried on as if nothing had changed, but I was no longer a part of it. I wasn’t invited

to the board game nights or the bonfires or anything else for the next year. I got used to being alone.

I would go home from school and then work out for hours before doing homework. I felt I had to dedicate myself to something, so exercise and calorie counting became my obsession. I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw so I strove to change it.

My routine became:

Wake up. Go to school. Come home. Work out. Cry in the shower. Eat as little as possible. Do homework. Go to bed. Repeat.

It was a miserable ritual. Occasionally, someone would talk to me when we were apart from the group, but the ostracism clearly remained. Shannon would give me books9 to help me occupy my open schedule. This was how I acquired the book that left me numb.

“Thirteen Reasons Why” by Jay Asher is the story of Hannah Baker and the thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. These “reasons” were actually thirteen specific people, and the things they had done that contributed to her deep sense of anger, loneliness, and despair.

I could relate to Hannah.

6. Perhaps my own Freshman year crush on Jake might have influenced my use of the phrase “backoff” but I prefer to think that this didn’t play a role in my effort to dissuade Kristen from her pursuit of Jake.

7. I honestly can’t remember if I ever got a response.

8. It’s odd, because sometimes you just don’t realize you’re at the end of something until you’re already on the other side of it, looking back.

9. I suppose these were acts of kindness

28 29

Like her, I was bitter and I was mad. As a generally intelligent and logical person, it frustrated me that I was so miserable. I lived in a nice house, went to a good school, and had a loving family. It didn’t make sense that I could let someone do this to me.

What did make sense, in my mind, was to start my own list. What names would be on my list? Who had caused me to feel such pain? Who would I hold accountable for my death?

I don’t remember specifically feeling like I was going to kill myself. I think I just wanted someone to blame for all that I was feeling, and all that I wasn’t feeling.

Eventually, my parents recognized that I wasn’t “right” and they just observed my general melancholy. My mother went into my room one afternoon when I wasn’t home to see if my journal could shed light on my state of mind. It did. She found the list I had started.

Shortly after reading my journal, my parents arranged for me to start a relationship with a therapist. It worked. She helped me realize that I needed to let go of the loneliness and pain, as well as the people and circumstances that caused it. “Letting go and letting God” became my mantra. It has continued to serve me well since.

30

Is high school difficult for everyone? I’m not referring to the coursework or the teachers. I think that emotionally, high school is hard. There are all these hormones swimming around – all this pressure to figure out what you want for your future. I never trust anyone who describes high school as the “glory days.” 1

I’m not suggesting that there weren’t some bright spots during the whole “high school experience.” I’m just pointing out that overall, high school sucks.2

In the grand scheme of my life thus far, my absolute lowest point came when I was a Sophomore in high school. In looking back on it, perhaps I handled the whole situation poorly, but it’s hard to navigate these life-moments when you’re distracted by your own distressed thoughts.3

Here’s what happened.

I was 15 years old. My hair was a frizzy mess. I was in the marching band and on the math team, and my favorite weekend activity was having board game parties with my friends. I attended Marist High School, a private Catholic school located in the far southwest side of Chicago. I had only attended public school through junior high, so the transition to a private high school forced me to make a whole new set of friends. Fortunately, I was able to do just that! I met some amazing people. We were a tight group, but no two of us were tighter than Kristen and me. She and I would text all evening and work on homework together over Skype. We shared all of our secrets.4

Throughout Freshman year, Kristen was in love5 with our friend Dennis. She knew his entire schedule and would plan to “accidentally” run into him throughout every day. When our group hung out, she would

1. This person is either A) lying to me or B) someone I would have hated in high school.

2. Perhaps I’m biased.

3. I’m getting a little ahead of myself though.

4. Every little thing our teenaged hearts felt

5. I do not say “in love” flippantly.

35

always go right to him. Dennis was more than a little overwhelmed by Kristen. He had no interest in being anything more than just friends, and eventually told her as much. Kristen was heartbroken and shattered.

Some time later, on a December evening, Kristen shared with me her love for another mutual friend, Jake. I expressed my concerns to her. Having dealt with the aftermath and pain of the Dennis Debacle, I didn't want to let her embarrass herself or be hurt again. I told her I thought she should “back off” Jake a little,6 and not engulf him with her feelings. Kristen abruptly announced that she was going to bed and didn’t want to talk anymore. I could tell she was upset, but she ended the conver-sation before allowing me to say anything more. I later sent her a text to apologize for hurting her feelings, and reiterated that I just wanted to see her happy.7 I expected her to have forgiven me by the next day at school. I was wrong.

I walked into my first class that day and found it odd that none of my friends would chat with me before the bell. No one would even really look at me directly. I noticed a lot of side-ways glances and heard a lot of hushed whispers. By the end of class I was anxious to learn what was up. I asked the group what was going on. They all looked at each other nervously before Shannon turned to me and explained.

“Kristen and Jake have started dating. She told us that you were jealous and tried to talk her out of it, and that it would be best if we all didn’t continue hanging out with you.” Before I could respond, the bell rang and everyone dispersed, heading off to the next class.

That’s all I really remember of the encounter.8 The group carried on as if nothing had changed, but I was no longer a part of it. I wasn’t invited

to the board game nights or the bonfires or anything else for the next year. I got used to being alone.

I would go home from school and then work out for hours before doing homework. I felt I had to dedicate myself to something, so exercise and calorie counting became my obsession. I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw so I strove to change it.

My routine became:

Wake up. Go to school. Come home. Work out. Cry in the shower. Eat as little as possible. Do homework. Go to bed. Repeat.

It was a miserable ritual. Occasionally, someone would talk to me when we were apart from the group, but the ostracism clearly remained. Shannon would give me books9 to help me occupy my open schedule. This was how I acquired the book that left me numb.

“Thirteen Reasons Why” by Jay Asher is the story of Hannah Baker and the thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. These “reasons” were actually thirteen specific people, and the things they had done that contributed to her deep sense of anger, loneliness, and despair.

I could relate to Hannah.

6. Perhaps my own Freshman year crush on Jake might have influenced my use of the phrase “backoff” but I prefer to think that this didn’t play a role in my effort to dissuade Kristen from her pursuit of Jake.

7. I honestly can’t remember if I ever got a response.

8. It’s odd, because sometimes you just don’t realize you’re at the end of something until you’re already on the other side of it, looking back.

9. I suppose these were acts of kindness

36 37

Like her, I was bitter and I was mad. As a generally intelligent and logical person, it frustrated me that I was so miserable. I lived in a nice house, went to a good school, and had a loving family. It didn’t make sense that I could let someone do this to me.

What did make sense, in my mind, was to start my own list. What names would be on my list? Who had caused me to feel such pain? Who would I hold accountable for my death?

I don’t remember specifically feeling like I was going to kill myself. I think I just wanted someone to blame for all that I was feeling, and all that I wasn’t feeling.

Eventually, my parents recognized that I wasn’t “right” and they just observed my general melancholy. My mother went into my room one afternoon when I wasn’t home to see if my journal could shed light on my state of mind. It did. She found the list I had started.

Shortly after reading my journal, my parents arranged for me to start a relationship with a therapist. It worked. She helped me realize that I needed to let go of the loneliness and pain, as well as the people and circumstances that caused it. “Letting go and letting God” became my mantra. It has continued to serve me well since.

38

Is high school difficult for everyone? I’m not referring to the coursework or the teachers. I think that emotionally, high school is hard. There are all these hormones swimming around – all this pressure to figure out what you want for your future. I never trust anyone who describes high school as the “glory days.” 1

I’m not suggesting that there weren’t some bright spots during the whole “high school experience.” I’m just pointing out that overall, high school sucks.2

In the grand scheme of my life thus far, my absolute lowest point came when I was a Sophomore in high school. In looking back on it, perhaps I handled the whole situation poorly, but it’s hard to navigate these life-moments when you’re distracted by your own distressed thoughts.3

Here’s what happened.

I was 15 years old. My hair was a frizzy mess. I was in the marching band and on the math team, and my favorite weekend activity was having board game parties with my friends. I attended Marist High School, a private Catholic school located in the far southwest side of Chicago. I had only attended public school through junior high, so the transition to a private high school forced me to make a whole new set of friends. Fortunately, I was able to do just that! I met some amazing people. We were a tight group, but no two of us were tighter than Kristen and me. She and I would text all evening and work on homework together over Skype. We shared all of our secrets.4

Throughout Freshman year, Kristen was in love5 with our friend Dennis. She knew his entire schedule and would plan to “accidentally” run into him throughout every day. When our group hung out, she would

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1. This person is either A) lying to me or B) someone I would have hated in high school.

2. Perhaps I’m biased.

3. I’m getting a little ahead of myself though.

4. Every little thing our teenaged hearts felt

5. I do not say “in love” flippantly.

always go right to him. Dennis was more than a little overwhelmed by Kristen. He had no interest in being anything more than just friends, and eventually told her as much. Kristen was heartbroken and shattered.

Some time later, on a December evening, Kristen shared with me her love for another mutual friend, Jake. I expressed my concerns to her. Having dealt with the aftermath and pain of the Dennis Debacle, I didn't want to let her embarrass herself or be hurt again. I told her I thought she should “back off” Jake a little,6 and not engulf him with her feelings. Kristen abruptly announced that she was going to bed and didn’t want to talk anymore. I could tell she was upset, but she ended the conver-sation before allowing me to say anything more. I later sent her a text to apologize for hurting her feelings, and reiterated that I just wanted to see her happy.7 I expected her to have forgiven me by the next day at school. I was wrong.

I walked into my first class that day and found it odd that none of my friends would chat with me before the bell. No one would even really look at me directly. I noticed a lot of side-ways glances and heard a lot of hushed whispers. By the end of class I was anxious to learn what was up. I asked the group what was going on. They all looked at each other nervously before Shannon turned to me and explained.

“Kristen and Jake have started dating. She told us that you were jealous and tried to talk her out of it, and that it would be best if we all didn’t continue hanging out with you.” Before I could respond, the bell rang and everyone dispersed, heading off to the next class.

That’s all I really remember of the encounter.8 The group carried on as if nothing had changed, but I was no longer a part of it. I wasn’t invited

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to the board game nights or the bonfires or anything else for the next year. I got used to being alone.

I would go home from school and then work out for hours before doing homework. I felt I had to dedicate myself to something, so exercise and calorie counting became my obsession. I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw so I strove to change it.

My routine became:

Wake up. Go to school. Come home. Work out. Cry in the shower. Eat as little as possible. Do homework. Go to bed. Repeat.

It was a miserable ritual. Occasionally, someone would talk to me when we were apart from the group, but the ostracism clearly remained. Shannon would give me books9 to help me occupy my open schedule. This was how I acquired the book that left me numb.

“Thirteen Reasons Why” by Jay Asher is the story of Hannah Baker and the thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. These “reasons” were actually thirteen specific people, and the things they had done that contributed to her deep sense of anger, loneliness, and despair.

I could relate to Hannah.

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6. Perhaps my own Freshman year crush on Jake might have influenced my use of the phrase “backoff” but I prefer to think that this didn’t play a role in my effort to dissuade Kristen from her pursuit of Jake.

7. I honestly can’t remember if I ever got a response.

8. It’s odd, because sometimes you just don’t realize you’re at the end of something until you’re already on the other side of it, looking back.

9. I suppose these were acts of kindness

Like her, I was bitter and I was mad. As a generally intelligent and logical person, it frustrated me that I was so miserable. I lived in a nice house, went to a good school, and had a loving family. It didn’t make sense that I could let someone do this to me.

What did make sense, in my mind, was to start my own list. What names would be on my list? Who had caused me to feel such pain? Who would I hold accountable for my death?

I don’t remember specifically feeling like I was going to kill myself. I think I just wanted someone to blame for all that I was feeling, and all that I wasn’t feeling.

Eventually, my parents recognized that I wasn’t “right” and they just observed my general melancholy. My mother went into my room one afternoon when I wasn’t home to see if my journal could shed light on my state of mind. It did. She found the list I had started.

Shortly after reading my journal, my parents arranged for me to start a relationship with a therapist. It worked. She helped me realize that I needed to let go of the loneliness and pain, as well as the people and circumstances that caused it. “Letting go and letting God” became my mantra. It has continued to serve me well since.

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