Francesca Rudkin: My 13 year old shares their story for Mental Health Awareness Week

This week was Mental Health Awareness Week. I believe we’re so much more aware of mental health these days, but that doesn’t make the experience of those dealing with it any easier. Many of us have stories about living with or caring for someone with mental health issues. Just like my family. This isn’t my story to tell. But my courageous 13 year old, decided to share their story. The more we share, the more we support each other. This is their story.

I had been sad for a while before this year. Although it was a feeling that I was able to find comfort in. Then came lockdown, I did school work, went on walks, did dance class online, gave my cats lots of attention and lay in bed for most of the day. Lockdown for me was a comforting time.

The main part I enjoyed was not having to talk or be around people. I had social anxiety and loved feeling invisible. I hated lunch time at school so during lockdown being able to walk with my mum around a park during lunch was something I looked forward to.

But to my dread, on November 17th last year I was told I was able to go back to school. I was nervous to say the least, but it wasn't all bad. I didn't have to go every day, which was a relief. I thought when I went back I would be stuck without any friends but I felt more secure with my friends than ever, as if ignoring everyone in lockdown never even happened.

I found my own personality and spoke more in group conversations. I walked up to people, making the first interaction. I felt like I had found the friend group that I fitted into.

The summer holiday came around and I was really happy. I was reading a lot and doing my own thing.

But February came around and it all started to go downhill. The first two weeks were perfect, but when the dynamics of my friend group at school changed I knew it was not going to end well. It brought back some really bad memories I thought I’d gotten over. It made me very anxious.

All the time I had worked on being happy was gone. I was dragged into conversations I was trying to stay the furthest away from.

The anxiety at school was back. I stopped talking. I dreaded going anywhere. My councillor suggested that me and my mum should start

looking for someone outside of school to talk to. I didn't want to talk to the few friends I had left so I wouldn't become too much for them, and I felt like I was a burden. I never really talked to my family about it.

It was hard to accept that I was not ok. I never talked about the sadness that I felt permanently situated in myself.

However, as things reached crisis point, I was able to get into a clinic to see a psychologist. In the third session I broke down crying. I couldn't deal with the feelings that I was experiencing.

I was lucky enough that I was able to find this psychologist because she gave me hope that I could get back to how I felt earlier this year. I got diagnosed with ADHD and got put on medication. My brain is so much quieter. After a lot of reluctance from me, we ended up telling the school my situation. They were supportive and I did reduced hours of school to avoid anxiety. I was slowly getting more motivation to do things that gave me joy. I was slowly finding ways to deal with the bad days, like reading, making bracelets or crocheting a cat beanie.

That was back in July and I have been so much better since then. My grades are much better, I don't feel the need to have a lot of friends and I'm ok with being by myself.

I am at school full time after doing reduced hours, although I do still spend a little time with the non-judgmental nurses in their chill out room. I rediscovered my love for dance after losing my motivation. I still love reading and putting myself in a whole different world. I have better communication with my family a