Hello…it’s me. A few months ago I was told I needed to write a speech, so here I am. I can try to say something memorable, but I’m not going to make any promises. By now most of you have met my parents, they’re pretty funny people, so hopefully I can make you laugh a little while I’m up here. I might cry. Thinking about the end of high school has turned me into this really emotional person who cries all the time, so if you see me struggling up here I ask that you please applaud. Applause makes everyone happy.[private]
I should probably start by getting my thank you’s out of the way. Thank you to our parents, our relatives, our friends, and our teachers for supporting us and encouraging us along the way. We would not be here without you. I would like to extend a special thanks to my classmates–if we have proven anything in four years, it’s that we are a family- a weird dysfunctional family- but a family none-the-less.
Anyone who knows me knows that I like to tell stories. Usually they end with seemingly no point but this one is different, and I hope you understand the message behind it.
This story starts on a rainy Thursday in March. I had been struggling with my anxiety for months and it seemed to only be getting worse. Nothing I had tried was helping, and I was quickly growing frustrated. It was during one of my many hours spent in my classroom- I mean Mr. Gould’s classroom- that Mr. Gould suggested I go for a run. I pretty much laughed in his face. One, it was raining; two, I am not nor have I ever been an athletic person; and three, I was tired. This was the recurring problem. My grades were slipping because I wasn’t doing as well on my homework or paying as much attention as I should have been in class. Simply getting through a day at school was exhausting, and when I arrived home I just wanted to sleep. I was tired. Tired of my anxiety and tired of pretending I was okay when I wasn’t, something I have unfortunately become very good at. Mr. Gould wasn’t the first person to suggest exercising to me he was just the first one that I listened to. He also assigned me a bedtime in October, something my parents have tried to do for the last 18 years, but that’s a story for a different day. That Thursday when I got home from school I went for a run, and despite the fact that it seemed completely counterproductive, I felt better. I had energy. I got up the next morning determined to have a great day. Knowing that I wouldn’t have time after school, I woke up early to go for a run. My runs were about two miles, and I can assure you they were not fast– at all. But I liked the way that the first run made me feel, and if I could help my anxiety with something as simple as running I would run a marathon– kidding I still hate running. Anyway, I woke up on Friday morning and at six o’clock, I set out for a run that lasted about twenty minutes. I finished running and I was feeling great. I took a quick shower and went on to make my breakfast, something I rarely had time to do. I put some toast in the toaster and turned on my tea kettle. If we’re friends on snapchat you may remember that my toast was burnt beyond recognition because the toaster never popped up. I laughed at myself and threw another piece in, turning my attention to my water. I found a water bottle that you could put fresh fruit in and asked my mom if she would help me slice up some strawberries. While she did that I made myself a healthy lunch, filled my thermos with some peppermint tea, and spread some peanut butter on a fresh slice of unburnt toast. It was going to be a great day. I arrived at school and walked into Mr. Gould’s room. I had recently gotten a new phone and didn’t trust myself to not drop it so I placed it in “my drawer” in his desk. As I walked out of the room I reached for my toast. In doing so my thermos crashed onto the floor. It broke and spilled peppermint tea all over. I spent the next five minutes attempting to fix the broken top. My attempts were unsuccessful so I moved on to homeroom, telling Mr. S. the reason for my lateness and already growing tired with the day.
When I arrived at my locker after homeroom, I discovered that my cool, fruit-holding water bottle was broken, and had subsequently spilled water all over the bottom of my locker. My books weren’t damaged, but a picture had fallen from the door of my locker into the mess and was ruined. I angrily threw away the photo and the water bottle. This day was terrible. I went to Mr. Gould’s room and left him a note asking him to email Mrs. Harrison for me. I needed to talk to someone ASAP. Mrs. Harrison agreed to see me fourth period, but when I arrived down there someone else had been having a bad day and was already in her office. I left and found Mr. Gould’s class in the library. I sat down at a table and focused all of my energy on not crying. Mrs. Baldwin noticed something was wrong and asked if I was okay. I told her that I would be and tried desperately to do my creative writing homework, soon realizing it was useless. As I walked out of the library Zoe gave me a hug, and I almost broke down– again. I moved on to my next class, where I had to take a test that I was pretty positive I was going to fail. Luckily for me Mr. Mellor was absent that day so I was able to leave after the test and head to Mr. Gould’s, where I knew he had a free period. I flopped down in his chair and almost immediately started crying. All of the day’s terrible events poured out of me as I explained to Mr. Gould that I had just wanted one good day. Then he sat down on his desk and told me that after I had broken my thermos I had accepted the bad day. I had spent the rest of the day looking for the things that were going wrong, instead of what was going right. Yes I had burnt my toast, but I had made a new piece. Yes my water bottle had broken, but my mom had still helped me slice up the strawberries that were inside. When my thermos broke, I was so focused on how broken it was that I completely ignored the people cleaning up the tea for me. My day had been horrible, but only because I had let it be.
As you move through life there will be days like this. Even when it feels like everything is going wrong, look for what is going right. Even if it is something as simple as the fact that you woke up. Focus on that thing, really focus on it, and I promise that you will be okay. Even your worst days only have twenty-four hours.
A few final words, you know before my next speech where I actually have to say goodbye. Please take care of yourselves. Please don’t ever stop doing what you love. And please, always wear pink on Wednesdays.[/private]