Overcoming the Past

I wrote my previous blog entry about overcoming the fear of the unknown and it really got me thinking about my past. I talked about going off to college and how big of an accomplishment that was, but I failed to mention my biggest and greatest accomplishment. I often overlook this time in my life as an accomplishment, because in the moment it was anything but. However, looking back on it, the hardest thing I have ever had to overcome turned out to be the most rewarding. I can confidently say that I am a better person for overcoming my past. So here’s a little backstory:
10^th grade was by far the hardest year of my life. And now that I’m passed it I sometimes forget how hellish and awful it was. And as hard and awful and terrible and miserable as it was, I consider overcoming 10^th grade to be one of my biggest successes in life. Yes, I know. 10th grade isn't really fun for anyone, but my year turned out a little bit different. You see, in 10^th grade, at the age of 15, I was completely house-bound. It started off as the occasional panic attack and turned into full blown agoraphobia quickly. I couldn’t leave my house without having a panic attack. I feared everything. I was “hospital homebound” and did my school work from my couch. I got scared when my friends came over. I got scared being in the car. I got scared when the phone rang, when my mom left for the grocery store, when someone on TV coughed, and pretty much every waking minute. It was miserable. I remember trying to go to school and having to leave before I even made it to the parking lot. I remember trying to go to after school tutoring, not because I needed the help, but because I needed the exposure. I remember the awkward stares I would get from other students who wondered why I never came to class anymore. I remember hearing rumors that I had cancer. But most of all I remember thinking I was literally insane. I was uncomfortable and scared at all times. Can you even imagine how exhausting that is? It was the lowest point of my entire life. I didn’t know if it would ever stop, if I would ever feel normal again. I remember sitting on my parents bed crying and thinking “I just want to go home.” Keep in mind I was physically home. I just remember in my head “home” was always a place where I could be comfortable and safe and I certainly wasn’t feeling that way at home. Luckily I had some pretty amazing people in my life. Although I was too scared to have friends over, my friends still called everyday to check in on me. My chorus teacher, Mr. Horrell, would stop by on his way home from school sometimes to make sure I was doing okay. (He would always call first to make sure I was up for a visitor). He even let me come sit in his office to take the 10^th grade writing test. He was so good with me and made sure that I knew that I could come to him at any point. And I certainly did once I started going back to school. Once I figured out medications and the agoraphobia turned into occasional panic attacks, I made my way back to school, slowly but surely. I took 2 classes each day instead of the usual 4. And I had passes to get out of all of my classes if I needed to step out and regroup. There were quite a few times when I needed to step out of class, and I always knew I could go to Mr. Horrell’s office and sit. I could leave any class I was in and go interrupt and he would stop whatever class he was teaching to give me the key to his office so I could go sit. I remember my mom would stay with me at school. She would drive me to class and then sit in the car while I was in classes, because I was too scared to be stranded at school and have her leave. I remember the herbal medicine she made me try. 2 drops of some disgusting bitter “natural anxiety relief” that I had to put under my tongue. I remember a lot of things about that time in my life. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. I lost a lot of things that year- experiences, time, laughter, fun. But I gained some important things too. I learned that I am stronger than anything life throws my way. I learned that almost anything is possible with a good support system. I learned that courage can be hard, and at the end of the day, if you tried, that’s all that really matters. And I learned that when things look hopeless, there is always still hope. Always.

So I will leave you with a note that my chorus teacher, Mr. Horrell, wrote in my yearbook a few days before I graduated high school. (I still have to grab the tissues when I read it).

              June 8^th, 2007

Brooke, First of all let me say something that 3 years ago I wasn’t sure I would, WOW- YOU MADE IT!!!! It is remarkable, excuse me…you are a remarkably courageous and determined young lady. I am so proud of you for fighting with everything you have. Greatness is measured in different ways, and often confused by those taking the measurement. I would argue that your “fight to finish” is a TRUE mark of greatness, and ranks along side any award or acknowledgement that is given at Saturday’s graduation ceremony. I don’t think I would have done as well as you if faced with the same obstacle!! Rarely in a teacher’s career does a student impact the teacher’s life in a way that changes his approach to teaching and life for that matter, the way you have impacted me! I am a better person and teacher because of you. I appreciate your influence on my life. I have grown to value and trust your opinion and keen sense of judgment. Thank you for always being honest- unfortunately that’s a value that few people possess. I am confident you will continue to succeed because of the qualities I have already mentioned, and because of the ones that I have not. It’s nice to know that you are my friend. I am sad this aspect of our friendship has come to an end, but I am looking forward to the many great experiences yet to happen! Best of luck next year- I KNOW you will be fine! Thank you for 4 GREAT years!

                                                                    With much admiration and respect,

                                                                                                       Mr. Horrell