Jaime Dillmore

My favorite things to do during my free time are wake surfing and skiing

I’ve spent nearly all my life at Fresno Christian Schools. I’m a lifer, and that’s why it’s so hard to say goodbye. I can’t recall even a time I wasn’t at FCS other than the first semester of my senior year. It’s weird for me to think about how, just in a week or two, this huge part of my life will be coming to an end. It’s as bittersweet as it gets for me to say goodbye to a place that holds so many memories. The part of my life where I’ve seen myself grow both physically and emotionally. A place where I’ve met nearly all of my friends, leaving me with the thought that I might never see some of them again. The part of my life where I’ve learned so much about myself and the world around me, but I know I still have so much to learn and explore. 

My lifer status was interrupted when I missed the first month of my senior year. I then disappeared off the face of the earth — well not off the face of the earth for me, but for everyone else who had no idea where I was. For three months, 97 days to be exact, I lived in a little town called Waitsfield in Vermont. Unfortunately, this wasn’t just a fun trip, though it did have its moments, like sledding in the snow with my new friends, or going on hikes and camping in the surrounding forest.

Here’s my story: Elementary was great for me, I had wonderful teachers like the legend Amy Witters, and made great friends. Middle school, for the most part, was a good experience even through the awkward moments. I started secretly struggling with mental health, which led to a slow downward spiral throughout high school.  I told no one and let no one notice, not my friends, not my parents, not anyone. I told myself I wasn’t worth the bother, and since no one noticed, how could anyone care if I told them? So I hid it, and I hid behind that mask for years, until the mask cracked during a breakdown.

My breakdown happened in the summer between junior and senior year, a week or two before school started. I was at Hume Lake summer camp when I confessed my mental health struggles to one of the leaders. I was sent home immediately to my very confused and sad parents, who didn’t know what was wrong with their boy. Their boy, who was always smiling and bringing smiles to everyone’s face. 

Following that disclosure, I spent the next six weeks in mental health treatment, trying so desperately to get better by changing my behavior. I spent four weeks in residential, two weeks in partial hospitalization, and once I appeared to be better for a little while, I went back to school for two weeks. Unfortunately, I wasn’t doing much better and had another breakdown, this time leading me to the hospital in an ambulance with a stay at a psychiatric hospital.

 My parents, not knowing what to do, then sent me to Vermont to receive a more in-depth mental health treatment that lasted over a longer term. The program helped me reach deeper understanding and gave me tools to cope. After a lot of hard personal work  I was home second semester of my senior year, thrust back into life. That’s not to say that everything is perfect, I still have my days that I struggle, but I’m home now, and I’m happy about that. I’m back with my terrific supporting friends and family, and that’s what matters to me and keeps me going. 

One thing that I learned along my journey is that I’m not alone, no matter what. I’m not the only one struggling, and neither are you. Everyone has their battles they hide, and they’re all important and valid, no matter how big or small they feel to you. Regardless if you’re struggling with depression and anxiety, self-harm and suicidal thoughts, body image issues or body dysmorphia, eating disorders, addiction, or anything else, you’re not alone in it, and you don’t have to hide it or be ashamed of it. Asking for help is never something to be ashamed of if you’re struggling. Even if it’s not comfortable, tell someone, anyone you can trust. You can go to a parent, or a trusted teacher/mentor, or even come talk to me. All our lives are precious and finite, and they most definitely matter. 

I’d like to thank both the school and Principal Amy Deffenbacher for how accommodating and supportive they were during this time of struggle in my life. And thank you, Kori James and The Feather for helping me become a better writer. I would also like to thank all my family and friends who have been there for me and stayed by my side. Thank you, FCS for the great memories, and for giving me a place to come back to.

For more from the Feather, visit Beloved teachers receive honorary diplomas.

For more senior columns, read  Senior Reflection: Julia Castiglione.