Me as a cheerleader
Cheerleader Schizoaffective Disorder Bipolar Disorder
When I was a cheerleader, I felt I had something to prove to the universe. I believed that I had the magic to make my life change. Our team’s name was the “Generals” named after General John C. Fremont. I made up cheerleading yells to “The Crazy General” for instance, as I indeed became just that “the crazy general.” At night, I would put up my red hair in large empty orange juice cans securing them tightly with rubber tipped bobby pins. Fitfully, I tried to sleep on them scared that I might get torpedoed by a pin in the ear or eye during the night. The next day, without much sleep, I imagined myself teaching our cheerleading team how to perform routines and move and jump, and followed through with my efforts in the afternoon.
During this time frame, I had an ample amount of energy and played on soccer, basketball, and volleyball teams and played roller hockey at our downtown roller rink. I skated in competitions in Oregon: Roseburg, Springfield, Oakridge, and Portland and helped develop a Drama Class for the 7th grade. I had done everything that I set my mind out to do, but the scales were tipping. With these accomplishments I should have had good self-esteem, but I didn’t.
The fact is, in my teenage life, I felt I let others down. It could have been, for the most part, because I was being bullied by a classmate, and I lived in a dysfunctional home. I became insecure and began to lose trust in myself and hurt other student’s feelings. I became paranoid and sarcastic, thinking there was a school’s conspiracy about me.The bully stole my sparkle and made me feel small about myself. I didn’t have the guts to tell her, “You really hurt my feelings.” I was meek and above that, putting her feelings above my own.
As time went on, I grew and got better about opening up to other people. I found that the magic was being good to myself, and putting myself first and taking care of me before anything else. Through many trials I learned to not repeat the same mistake twice. With these steps, I was finally able to manage my life and improve my way of thinking. Friends welcomed me in their houses, treated me with respect, and stuck by me. I have proven something to the universe and to myself and that is: people are your friends no matter what, and people have the capacity to lift you up and bring you out of adversity. At my 40th my class reunion, the bully became aware of what she had done and apologized.
Arts and Writing by Sherry 