School Counselors

I'll never understand judging one persons thoughts on being sad. We all get depressed. There's no judgment in that. So if we all get depressed sometimes, why do we get pushed into categories about how we should deal with it. I don't think the world should be like that. And I also think, in every single school, there should be a better counselor. I've had a real bad experience with that.

In sixth grade, I had a bad experience with my middle school counselor. Everything had went to a living hell in my life at that time, and I was going through a rough time, which for personal business matters I won't go into. The people I was dealing with at my "home" have different lives now and probably don't act the same, and I'm glad to be safe in my own house now. But anyways, I used to self harm and I had "scheduled" an appointment (my school had shitty white pieces of paper to book and "appointment" with my counselor) with the counselor at my school. I told a basic, overall reason why I was asking to go there. I waited a full two months for this women to call me up into the office. At this point, scars were healed halfway and looked like cat scratches. "Nothing serious."

I asked her if she was going to call my mom about everything that happened in that office. She told me three reasons that she had too. I only remember one (self harm), and I told her everything I did. She asked why I felt the way I did. I told her I didn't know. She had told me that I had to know why I did that. Which is bullshit because you do get depressed, sometimes over nothing. That's life. I told her the way I was living at the house. (Again, people change and I'm sure the people who I was living with have changed; it just was shitty that I had to go through this time). She told me that kids do get stressed over doing chores and that my situation wasn't bad at all. It was, "Nothing serious."

I showed her the scars that I had (cat scratches), and she said that they weren't deep at all.

I was having some type of panic attack and cried and was dry heaving.

Nothing "serious" I guess.

She called my mom and I went to grab my stuff from sixth hour, and went back to the office. It was whatever, I guess. Me and my mom had a heart-warming conversation when I got home. My mom understood why I did it. My sister Mckenzi understood it too. They where living with me. They knew exactly what I was going through. I love them for that. My point wasn't missed when I got home. It was missed when I told the counselor.

I never told that counselor anything for the rest of my years at that school. I learned that it's okay to missed sometimes. I reflect on everything I do everyday. And I'm perfectly normal with my rough patches.

Schools, please get a better counselor. Thanks.