Everything happens for a reason. That’s something I try to tell myself often, even when it gets tough. However, it’s hard to think so when it comes to the questions that I ask myself; such as: “Why do I have TS? Why doesn’t anyone I know have it, but I do?” Yesterday at night, after I finished writing, I accidentally send an audio imessage to my friend Ray*. It was an audio of me, after a long day, releasing my vocal and motor tics. As soon as I realized what I had sent, I was more than mortified. Of course, Ray* and my friends all know I have Tourette Syndrome. They are supportive and look beyond my tics. That didn’t stop me from feeling embarrassed and ashamed of my TS as I realized what had happened. I texted my friend Ellen*, telling her how stupid I felt and how I hated myself. My friend, being the sweetest person ever, responded by saying: “you shouldn’t hate things that you can’t change about yourself. And honestly who cares I mean I certainly don’t. Okay you need to love yourself.” Then I received a text from Ray* saying that it’s okay, and that he punches things when he gets mad, too. That made me laugh. Apart from the thoughtfulness and understanding my friends provided me with, this small incident was not small for me at all. It proved to me that all things really do happen for a reason, and that good always comes after/with the bad.
(* Not their real names)
I never quite felt like part of my friend group. It really is ironic, because we are all really great friends. We’ve all shared personal experiences, had deep conversations, slept over, made ridiculous nicknames for each other, revealed our sexuality and current crushes, and we’ve kept all of our secrets in a tight bundle. Yet my mind is, of course, an inexplicable place that is full of anxiety, which leads myself to doubt the friendship we’ve built over the past 2 years. This made me want a “new start,” where I could be a “better” and a more “likeable” friend and person in general. I thought this “new start” would take place perfectly in High School. But now I know how far I’ve come―that I am really going to high school―I’m feeling so many things.
Last Friday was graduation. I’m done with middle school, now. I even received an achievement award. I was really, really confused. I thought I heard my name wrong. After summer ends, I’m going to be a freshman. A freshman. A high-schooler. It’s really happening. I’m might not be able see all of my friends everyday. We’re going to the same school. But I’m not going to have any classes with Amy, and I’m scared that it’ll be the same with my Hubby, Mayo, Ellen, and Pantyhoe (nicknames).
My friends have been there for me all the time, ever since I came here. I know we can still hang out, but I also know it’s realistic to lose friends in high school. I cried a lot yesterday, thinking of Ray* being my first friend here, and how much he developed as a person and my friend. Thinking of how much I loved them and appreciated all of them: I just hadn’t known how much until I realized this could end right here. I feel nervous and scared for high school. I feel excited about making new friends. I want to make new friends. But I don’t think I want to say goodbye to my friends who have cried with me, wiped my tear for me, and my friends who I have wiped their tears for them and made them smile afterwards.