Why we speak up

Sophomore Camilla Taysi was picking apart a razor last September. Minutes earlier, she had stormed into the bathroom blurry-eyed and had snatched it fresh from the cabinet. Now she was on her bed, nudging the blade apart.

Her mind wandered. She could see herself at school with that smile on her face, that nonchalant attitude. Sometimes it tricked her, too.

But with the razor cold against her skin, she knew she wasn’t fine. Not fine with depression, not with how people would look at her scars the next day.

Yet the red rivulets still gathered on her wrist and the tears streamed down her cheeks; it was another bloodstain on her sweatshirt that she couldn’t explain to her parents.

A night like this wasn’t new to Taysi.

In 2014, the National Institute of Mental Health reported that an estimated 2.8 million adolescents in the U.S. had, like Taysi, suffered from depression that year. There is no simple reason for these numbers, and Saratoga is certainly not the only Bay Area high school to struggle with these spiraling issues: bullying, stress and depression — even suicide.

Taysi’s battle with the condition began when she was a fifth grader at Argonaut Elementary School. Innocently enough, it started with stomach problems. Whenever she ate, Taysi dealt with indigestion, often feeling the need to vomit.

That same year, the problems worsened. At the hospital, doctors discovered that her stomach discomfort was caused by anxiety.

Taysi had always known that she was prone to anxiety; she was “a nervous kid.” Doctors said stress causes an increase in stomach acid production, resulting in poor digestion and stomach pains.

Her stomach problems were frequent and would often interfere with her education. She would go to school late after fighting pain in the morning, or would have panic attacks in class, during which she felt she needed to throw up.

“I would just kind of sit in class and shake, [feeling] nervous and sick,” Taysi said.

Other times, she would go to the school bathroom in tears and text her mom to pick her up. Or she wouldn’t go to school at all.

 

Transitioning to middle school

As Taysi grew accustomed to her indigestion troubles, she entered the unknown hallways of Redwood Middle School. Like any sixth grader, Taysi wanted to fit in with the crowd. But she couldn’t do it.

She saw her classmates transform into people desperate for popularity as they pranced around the hallways in Juicy jackets and short skirts. They seemed consumed by judgment, gossiping about the latest couples, stirring up drama within their cliques, ostracizing those who didn’t fit in.

Middle school was an awkward experience for Taysi, to say the least. There were disappointingly few people, she said, who “had their values straight and had compassion.”

“Most kids there either only cared about their own business or didn’t care about other people’s feelings,” Taysi said. “They thought that it didn’t matter what they did, but every word, every action had a consequence.”

Taysi tried her best to make friends and adjust to the new environment. She needed all the support she could get, and during this transition, most of it came from her mother.

“Even though we fought nonstop, we still loved each other,” Taysi said. “We’d go from being best friends to yelling and screaming, but she always supported me.”

Even so, Taysi found her anxiety rising as school became less bearable.

She was being bullied. A few months into the year, she had gained 45 pounds. She would walk through hallways and hear her classmates’ echoing voices as they giggled and pointed at her among crowds. When she walked through the Quad, she would look down at her shoes or play with her nails, trying to avoid any eye contact.

It only worsened as sixth grade progressed, especially when Taysi joined ask.fm, a then-popular social question-and-answer forum. She was expecting to answer frivolous questions about how her day was or her favorite movies from her peers. Instead, Taysi received cruel threats on the site.

“They’d call me a ‘worthless slut’ or call me fat and say I was too obese to walk,” Taysi said. “People would tell me to kill myself.”

The effects of her anxiety, the social stress, the entire atmosphere of middle school — Taysi was left feeling “completely feel numb all the time.” She didn’t feel like walking, breathing or living.

“[That mentality] is the most difficult to deal with, ” Taysi said. “I had no joy, no motivation to do work, let alone the things I loved. It’s so indescribable.”

Midway through seventh grade, Taysi left Redwood Middle School. She knew she had to find an environment that would help her recuperate. Her parents decided that she would try a Home and Hospital Instruction Program for the rest of the year, in which she could complete her academic obligations at home.

Taysi also went to frequent doctor appointments, met with at least four therapists and took a variety of medications while her mother looked for private schools “for kids like me,” Taysi said.

She also fostered a dog named Snickers. This experience motivated her to resume some of the activities she enjoyed. Since she liked to bike with her dog, the frequent bike rides motivated her to get back in shape and participate in sports again.

Gradually, Taysi found herself making more of an effort to be happy.

“I didn’t feel extremely better, and there is no magic potion to make you feel that way,” Taysi said. “But things just started to change. Something switched.”

After months of recuperation, Taysi transferred to Fisher Middle School in Los Gatos midway through eighth grade. She wanted a fresh start.

Taysi recalled one episode during her time at Fisher that resonated with her. It taught her how people perceived depression, and it followed her to high school.

In her eighth-grade English class, Taysi wrote a memoir detailing the constant suicidal thoughts she had battled that year. The responses she received bothered her.

“After reading my memoir, kids in my class told me that they would’ve never guessed,” Taysi said. “They said that I was the most happy, loud person that they’ve ever met.”

From her peers’ reactions, Taysi realized that there was a lack of social consciousness, and it had permeated middle school.

By the time she got to Saratoga High, Taysi had developed a more drastic coping mechanism; despite everything, the anxiety hadn’t left. She was turning to self-harm — using a razor to make small incisions on her wrist.

According to Dr. Paul Moran, co-author of a 2012 study about self-harm published in The Lancet, teenagers are most vulnerable during puberty. Those who are “on a fast-track to adulthood” may hurt themselves to block out emotions they “feel to be intolerable.”

For Taysi, self-harm was an outlet. Although she felt less suicidal in high school, she felt more depressed. To lessen her constant anxiety, she used cutting as her main coping mechanism.  

“Instead of shutting down completely, staying in bed, crying all day, failing school — it was my way of still being able to go on and continue,” Taysi said. “I’d cut myself. Then I’d get out of bed in the morning and put a smile on. You know what I mean?”

 

An ongoing effort

Taysi’s struggles are just one example of the issues that Saratoga High has combatted in the past few years. Ever since the well-documented suicide of sophomore Audrie Pott in 2012, the administration has redoubled its efforts to focus on students’ mental health. Pott’s suicide suggested that there was something troubling about the school’s culture.

When Taysi entered Saratoga High in 2014, Pott’s suicide was two years past. If not in the school’s collective memory, the incident left a legacy that helped lead to an annual school-wide event: Speak Up for Change week.

With its simple intention to improve student culture, Speak Up for Change is meant to show students the relevance and ubiquity of situations like Taysi’s. The idea was originally proposed in 2013 and supervised by assistant principal Kerry Mohnike, who was then the school activities director.

“[Speak Up for Change] will always stand out for me as a highlight of student life,” Mohnike said. “Students need guidance, but they also know exactly what their peers need.”

For this year’s Speak Up for Change week, Taysi decided to bring awareness by sharing her story at the student assembly.

Although Taysi believes that Speak Up for Change is a great idea, she noted that whatever changes that occur never seem to last — everything goes back to the way it was once the week is over.

“This is a matter of changing our school and saving a life, and not just for one week,” Taysi said. “We need to put more focus on our community, our health and our lives.”

Aside from organizing Speak Up for Change, students have sought to improve the school’s culture with groups like Common Roots, a peer counseling club, or “Humans of Saratoga High” (HOSH), a Facebook page that documents Saratoga High’s culture.

Since 2013, HOSH has posted weekly pictures complemented by personal stories, ranging from ones recounting quirky experiences to questions against the stigma of depression.

“HOSH has been an outlet for students to express themselves,” said senior Luke Salin, who has contributed to HOSH for the past three years. “The page has generated a more open environment by creating a positive social media space.”

And though not completely planned, on Sept. 22, Taysi, too, turned to social media. She had something she’d been wanting to say.

It was another low day for Taysi. After three months clean from self-harm, Taysi once again felt the need for catharsis.

“I really didn’t want to do it,” she said. “I mean I wanted to do it, but I knew that it [was] not good and would not help in the long run.”

Taysi convinced herself to stay away from the razor, turning to the computer instead. If self-harm was on her mind, she wasn’t going to perform it this time; she was going to write about it.

Taysi created a Facebook post detailing a graphic scene of self-harm. It’s what would’ve happened, Taysi said, her sitting on her bed, picking apart a razor.

The post was more than a coping mechanism for Taysi. The first paragraphs are her plea for awareness, for taking action against the stigma of depression.

Taysi’s post created a case in which people came together, when the haze of ignorance was partially lifted away by a collective realization that people are not alone with their problems. That’s what the school is trying to teach students with events like Speak Up for Change.

As of now, Taysi said she is four months clean from self-harm. Even though this past month “has been one of the hardest months of [her] life,” she has been content with who she is as a person, gaining support from her family and friends, speaking out about her struggles and reaching out to those who are dealing with these issues now.

And Taysi hopes that someday, things will change for good.

“We’re supposed to enjoy high school,” Taysi said. “We’re going to be adults after this. We need to find the strength in ourselves to want to change.”