A tribute to my daughter, who’s just passed matric

Written on Friday, 6 January 2017

Like so many things in life, my daughter’s passing of her final high school exam was not an event, but a journey. Like so many journeys, the ending could not have been predicted at the start.

In Grade 9, my daughter was diagnosed with depression. She was also diagnosed with ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). I would imagine the latter is a function of the former.  

Right at the outset, I want to say to all the cynics out there, who regard this as middle class, attention-seeking drivel – just be thankful you have been spared either of these conditions.

This did not come as a surprise to me. Besides intimately knowing the details of her difficult childhood, during which she had had to live in two houses (to conform to someone’s short-sighted model of post-divorce access to children as a mathematical equation), a period of many years during which she’d had way too much turmoil for someone that young, I was also the one who was exposed to her intense mood swings in her teens. While I did not have the background to diagnose precisely what was wrong, I knew it was, at the very least, unusual for someone to burst into tears, every single day, for no apparent reason. It was very difficult for me to see her in that state, day after day, and not be able to do anything about it.

Grade 10 was a challenging year for her for family-related reasons, as well – her brother had matriculated the year before, so he wasn’t around at school (they’re very close). More than that, he had also decided, after years of moving from house to house, to stay with his dad permanently. With that precedent set, she decided to stay with me permanently, a decision that was not respected by all. So she wasn’t seeing Nick - the only constant, loving presence for most of her life - at school, neither was she seeing him at home. This, alone, was a huge adjustment for her.  She missed him intensely, and somehow society does not give us enough space to express this basic emotion. I think she thought she had to carry on as usual and just deal with it, even though no-one was telling her to do so.

Towards the end of Grade 9, she started sessions with a psychologist she instantly connected with; this was after a long time of not wanting to speak to a psychologist (based on previous experiences). It was in the course of these sessions that she was diagnosed and then referred to a psychiatrist for an official (medical) diagnosis and a prescription for anti-depressants.  This was a big shift for us as a family, but when I saw the difference the meds made to her, and the positive effect on her sense of well-being, I knew that these meds, just like meds we take for any physical ailment, have a role to play in our lives. Again, with her condition not understood by all, there was scepticism. One learns to turn down the volume of the nonsense, after a while, and proceed with what makes the most sense.

One of the interesting things about life, I’ve found, is that even during our darkest patches, some amazing things can happen. In Grade 9, the same year that she started seeing the psychologist, she asked if she could go on a trip to Thailand (with World Challenge), and one of the main reasons I agreed to embark on that year of fundraising was that I was happy to see her excited about something, and I believed she would learn valuable lessons in the year of preparation, as well as on the trip itself – lessons that would equip her to manage her condition, which would enable her to live a life of purpose and fulfillment.

What many people did not know was that she’d started hating school so much, that she was convinced she was not returning to school after Thailand. This was a battle I had never anticipated, and I tackled it like I had done every other battle: I broke it up into little bite-sized chunks, and got through it, bit by bit.

Grade 10, the year she went to Thailand, was characterised by loads of crying, low self-esteem, feeling marginalised, feeling lonely, feeling nobody liked her, and, worst of all,  believing that she was not likeable; she hated going to school and struggled to get through an entire week of school. For a while, we explored other options, did internet research and spoke to people. Uppermost in my mind was her well-being, but so were financial considerations. It was unrealistic to place her anywhere we could not afford to, and she knew that. Her brother encouraged her to hang in there, and told her that all she needed to do each term was pass. I encouraged her to go back for a term, and then another, and then it was the end of Grade 10. She’d got through so much more than just an academic year.

Life often overlaps, I’ve found, so you can be dealing with a heavy matter, but still be posting happy pics on Facebook of some exciting venture you’re busy with. Once we find peace with this, life becomes less complicated. Summer was already on anti-depressants when she went to Thailand for 16 days. I am sure she was not the only one in their group of eleven 16-year-olds.

I may be wrong, but I think the trip was the start of the upswing. Friendships were started, others were strengthened, and she entered Grade 11 with a different energy. Yes, I could say she had resigned herself to finishing high school at that school, but I think she also started liking and accepting herself more. She was becoming more receptive to what life had to teach her, and definitely appreciating her uniqueness more.

She’d be the best one to tell you how she changed her life, but this is my perspective. She realised that Grade 11 was actually the start of preparing for the matric exams, so she went about her school work with more interest. She started using a diary, started setting goals (in different parts of her life), started enjoying making lists and managing her time better. I saw a new energy in her. She got better and better at finding ways to balance things, and used her sharp mind to figure out ways to manage the times when the symptoms got out of hand. I think that when she stopped seeing depression as a limiting factor, but as just another factor to be considered, she started to feel a lot better about life. 

She started journalling, and finding the value in planning, as well as of delayed gratification. She got better and better at this, and I witnessed her unfolding like a flower bud. She started blossoming. My baby was growing up. We walked some tough roads together, because finances were always tight, but even these experiences provided lessons about how material things were not as important as loving, accepting, and being there for each other.

I promised her a desk and a lamp, to help her study for matric and do her best. I focused on not judging her choices, but guiding, giving advice, speaking from experience, being flexible, loving her through everything, and never being harsh. The world can be harsh enough – you don’t need to come home to that as well.

When she was 17, I said, by way of giving her perspective: “Ten years ago, you were 7, and I was 44.” I was trying to tell her I had lived through so much, and learnt so many lessons; I encouraged her to learn from me, but to always be true to herself.

The thing that helped her turn her life around was gaining self-awareness – once she learnt about who she was, and that she was already special, she stopped looking outward for so much validation. She learnt that not every opinion expressed about her was necessarily true. She started liking and loving herself, and taking care of herself, finding ways to manage her depression, finding ways to accept herself even for waking up feeling miserable, finding ways to brighten up her gloomy days. She learnt to spoil herself when she felt down, by making cups of her favourite tea, or just lying in bed watching movies.

One of the things I consciously did, during this time, was allow her to stay home when she felt she couldn’t face a day at school. I was learning all the time, as well. And while I was aware that my flexible stance could potentially be exploited, I always wrote things down, so I kept track of when she stayed home, and made sure it didn’t happen excessively. I ignored judgmental input that this was indulgent: I was working with my instincts as to what was appropriate, and I regarded it as a short-term measure. I always believed Summer would emerge from the dark cloud that enveloped her, and see in herself - and in life around her - what I saw. 

In the process, she learnt more compassion than she would otherwise have learnt. She developed a strong sense of justice, championing the rights of others who are misunderstood, or discriminated against, for circumstances beyond their control.

As she learnt the many lessons available (e.g. ‘’It doesn’t have to be all or nothing’’), she realised that she could be someone on medication for depression, have her bad days occasionally, and still shine in other areas of her life. Once she started tapping into just how talented and gifted she was, she started emerging from her cocoon, and ever so slowly coming out and shining.

In Grade 11, she got more involved in things at school, and started performing more: she produced a stage piece called Gay Pirates, in which she also sang and played ukulele. She sang in a musical evening called Music Café. In matric, she won the senior public speaking competition, with a speech about fat shaming (of women) in the diet-pill industry, focussing on how the media perpetuates these gender stereotypes.

She studied in Grade 12 like she had never studied before, achieving excellent marks in both internal exams. Her September results won her a place among the top 20 matriculants at Westerford High, a school with exceptionally high standards. At their prize giving event, she won the trophy for the top student in Italian, an award for Academic Excellence, as well as the Senior Public Speaking award.

On the evening of her matric ball, she looked like a magical forest princess, a look she had been aiming for. A day after her matric exams ended, she started a holiday job. A month later, even before getting her matric results, she earned her first full month’s salary.

Her plans? To work for seven more months and save her money to visit a friend broad. In the meantime, she will also apply to study in 2018, as well as for financial assistance for her studies. And what will she be studying? Following her heart and working with her gifts and strengths – Musical Theatre.

I remember a very different Summer, in 2014, reacting to her brother’s six A’s in his final matric exam. She told me, with all the sass of a 16-year-old who had lived in her brother’s shadow, not realising there’d been no need to: “I am NOT Nick, so don’t expect ANY A’s in MY matric results!”

I couldn’t afford the desk and the lamp, but Summer passed matric with six A’s (distinctions), and one B.