We're soaring, we're crashing

Ah yes; aspirations. Remember as a child when we were told we could be ‘whatever we wanted to be’ and endless possibilities whirled around our heads like a delightful carousel of firemen, vets and astronauts atop of unicorns and dragons harmoniously singing ‘When you believe’ in a parade of life-long joy? This blissful bubble of ignorance cocooned our fragile minds throughout infancy and dizzy pre-teen madness. As a 90s kid growing up in the 2000s I was ceaselessly bombarded with cheery lyrics like ‘Reach for the stars’ and ‘Bop to the top’ whilst teachers and parents alike assured me happiness would be handed to me on a silver platter if I was always polite, ate my greens and did my maths homework. Simple really.

Then the bombshell of puberty hits and everything goes to shit.

Not only do you find out Santa isn’t real but apparently you can’t just waltz through life shovelling broccoli down your oesophagus and chanting your times tables under your breath to be handed a mansion and 50,000 pounds. Apparently you have to work. And try. And battle the ten thousand raging hormones that confuse and confound you at any given moment – not to mention being crammed together with hundreds of other teens suffering from the same damn problems as you. That much angst and bewilderment in one place is a recipe for anarchy!

So is it really that surprising that newspapers are littered with sky-high suicide and depression statistics for today’s teens? People act shocked and wonder how this could be but really, I don’t find it that surprising anymore. The pressure and stress we’re under to do well in our exams (despite the sheer laugh ability of our fucked-up education system) is magnified tenfold by social and media pressures to not only get straight As but be popular, drop-dead gorgeous and keep tight hold of our easy-breezy-stable-able sanity along the entire journey.

Our cushy kingdom of self-assurance crumbles into a filthy ruin of lies and phrases like “It only gets harder from here” or “You’re not in *insert previous year of school* any more – this is serious”. I myself survived through years 7-11 remaining vaguely optimistic and came out of it with 5 A*s, 3 As and 3 Bs GCSEs for my efforts which in itself is a miracle of biblical proportions.

This year however has been a different story.

 I revised like hell for my mocks last month and came out with an A for Psychology, 2 Bs in English and a D in Physics. I was pretty ecstatic (a D in physics was amazing, I assure you) but apparently, a D wasn’t good enough. According to UCAS I need at least a B despite the fact I wish to do a creative writing degree and go on into the field of English apparently I’m expected to get a B in fucking physics even if I can’t even touch an Oscilloscope without it spontaneously combusting.

So I panicked. And you know how when most teenagers panic they usually turn to drugs or alcohol or perhaps get an obscene tattoo scrawled somewhere inappropriate and tell the world to go fuck themselves?

Yeah, I’m not most teenagers.

When I panic and break-down I decide it’s a good idea to hand a two-sided love letter to an eighteen-year-old male I barely speak to who’s at least a foot taller than me and attends my horse-riding classes with his entire family in tow despite the fact I don’t even want a boyfriend right now and he’s way out of my league. 

Here’s a tip kids – if you think of doing something and the first thing that pops into your head is ‘YOLO’, don’t do it. Actually, never do anything you associate with YOLO. Never associate yourself with those four letters in that particular order. Just think YMCA instead and dance it out. Dance out that angst. Maybe join a youth club. Or turn gay. Basically just don’t do what I did. Because there’s always a chance the boy will say yes. No matter how unattractive you think you are. He. Might. Say. Yes.

And then you’re screwed. Trust me. 

So now that I’ve dug myself a grave I’m going to have to try and climb out of it. Preferably without failing my re-shit mock tomorrow or kicking this male in the face so that his gran goes ape shit and runs me down in her racing red range rover. 

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, it’s no wonder there’s a stigma surrounding teenagers as being outrageous and stubborn. If we weren’t, I doubt any of us would survive. Well...maybe some of us. There’s always that minority of happy-go-lucky pricks that make puberty their bitch and fly away to Oxford to get a philosophy degree and save starving children in Africa or some shit. But fuck them – they don’t count. What counts is how the rest of us cope. With that in mind, here’s some tips of how I survive (or try to anyway):

1.      Motivational music:
So who says the motivational songs have to remain in the blissful ignorance of childhood? Not me dude. I swear I always feel better after I’ve listened to some aggressive rap music or a good ol’ Disney power ballad. I recommend making a playlist on Spotify with your friends (shout-out to my friend Connor: godly creator of the ‘Motivation Station’) and then you can roar along to them together in the collage common room; intimidating your fellow students with the bellowing glory of power.

2.      Talking to someone:

I know those stupid stress leaflets in school always parrot this, but they ain’t wrong. Friends, parents, some random dude on the internet (as long as you don’t give away personal details); anyone. It helps. I swear. Especially if it’s someone going through similar problems. Sometimes they give great advice, sometimes they give shit advice but at least there’s someone there you can rant about your problems to. And if you’re lucky, they might even listen.

3.      Thinking before you act:

Rash decisions are a no-go. I promise you’ll regret them pretty much instantaneously and you can’t take them back once you’ve done them. No. You have to spend time cleaning up the shit you made and sometimes people get hurt in the process. I’m holding my hand up to that one so high it’s literally caressing the ceiling right now. Have a sit down and talk to yourself. Don’t be impulsive – impulsivity is a slippery slope that leads to a river of tears and guzzling Nutella like no tomorrow whilst belting out Frozen’s ‘Let it Go’ until your lungs burn like they’re on a spit roast. It isn’t pretty. I’d know.

4.      Sleep:

A lack of sleep is one of the top causes of depression. Granted, the allures of the internet and Flappy Bird are almost too good to resist at 3AM; especially when the alternative is lying in a dark room thinking about 99 problems and beating yourself up about them until you lose consciousness, but it’s also a pretty bad idea. Just remember – when your eyes start stinging so bad that they feel they’re pressing into the depths of your skull it’s time to hit the hay.

5.      Exercise:

Okay, fine, I haven’t much personal experience of this myself but I do have it on good reference that this works. Due to our ‘Fight or Flight’ stress response system, we are literally prepped and ready for action whenever things get a little too much. Side effect of evolution I’m afraid. So try going for a run, or dancing or punching something (not people please, as tempting as it may be). I’m thinking of going for it myself...or maybe I’ll just exorcise. Get the salt bitches; Winchesters ain’t got nothin’ on me. ...Although if they did I wouldn’t turn them down. Ehem, sorry, side-tracked...

6.      Creature comforts (in moderation)

Give yourself a break, you’ve worked damn hard to get yourself here. You are an A* person – let loose now and then. Eat some junk, watch a few episodes of your favourite tv shows, read a gay fanfiction – whatever makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, just do it.

Unless it’s murder. 

So I’m going to take some of my own advice and watch Teen Wolf with a Snickers bar. Life as a teenager is stressful, but I guess for now we just have to make the best of it. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger etc, etc. This is probably just preparing us for a zombie apocalypse or something...well probably not but why don’t we kid ourselves a while longer hey?