TEENAGERS WITH EXPERIENCE

TW: Emotional/ physical abuse

Dear Diary,
How do you go to school when your mum keeps crying and your dad won’t stop yelling?
It always starts the same way. I come in from school and sit on the sofa, scrolling on my phone, watching random videos, and then mum comes in. She’s been cleaning all day, and she’s usually got her hair tied up in a bun. 
She asks me how school was today. I say it was fine. She finishes her jobs; I sit on the sofa. 
Dad walks in. He wears his suit and tie. He walks upstairs. Mum makes dinner.
We eat dinner. Nobody talks, and I eat slowly, chewing each mouthful thoroughly before I swallow, lumps clumping and sitting on the back of my tonsils. I watch my mum. She’s frowning with her eyes, but her lips paint a beautiful, unnatural smile. My dad eats loudly.
He doesn’t like the onions my mum has used. She tells him they add flavour, and he drops his fork. My stomach sinks as his fist hits the table. I’m excused; I crawl up the stairs. I wait for their words to hit the top of the staircase and listen for the tears afterwards. 
Shouting, and then silence. Often, my dad hugs her afterwards. I wait for voices again before I hide in my room. 
The next day, I wake up to stretched smiles and tired eyes. 
By the time I get into school, I’m ready. I spend hours perfecting my face, painting a happiness upon my cheeks and lips. I get a uniform card as soon as I get in, but I collect them; I have a locker full of pink uniform cards. I place it next to the rest and find my friends. 
Ella, Meadow, Freda and Hazel sit on the bottom of the technology stairs, and I find my place next to Hazel. She’s drawing a picture of a dragon blowing fire at a castle. It’s going to be in oil pastels, she says to me.
I’m not really listening until I hear Freda talking about some girl who has been annoying her in class.
“-and then she impersonated the teacher, saying he was stupid. Honestly, she keeps disrupting my lessons, and I’m so sick of it. I wish she would be sent to timeout,” Freda says, scowling. I ask her what this girl’s name is, and she says Daisy. 
In my next class, we are introduced to a new student, and I beckon her to come sit beside me. She has long, ragged brown hair and deep blue eyes, combined with a black rucksack that looks exactly like the one I have. 
Some boy opposite us says he wants to fight her after school. She says to him she doesn’t care, she knows how to fight, she’s been fighting for her mum since she was seven.
She tosses her hair and offers me gum. I take some and ask for her name. 
“Daisy,” she says. 
“Nat,” I respond. 
I walk around with Daisy at breaktime and meet up with my friends later at lunch. As soon as Ella leaves the table to get herself a cookie, Freda starts talking about how she’s been really quiet recently and if anything has been happening that we know of. 
I think to myself, I’ve been really quiet recently, and nobody has asked me if I’m doing okay, but when Ella’s quiet, let’s all talk about her. 
Hazel mentions some milkshake incident on the way home from school, and by the time she finishes, Ella’s back at the table with a chocolate cookie that will likely end up all over her face by the time she’s finished it. 
That’s the thing with Ella, she wears scrunchies in plaits in her hair, and she doesn’t shorten her skirt or hitch her tie up like the rest of us. She doesn’t wear makeup; she wears purple glasses and often has no idea why people are mad at her. It’s like she doesn’t care about all the things you’re supposed to do to stop people from being mean to you. 
Ella’s in my next class, so we walk together. She tells me that she started reading another book yesterday, and talks incessantly until Daisy sits next to me and tells her to shut up. 
Daisy calls her a nerd and steals one of her pens, asking me, “Should we move away? She’s so annoying.” 
I look at Ella, and she looks crestfallen. She looks up at me, and I don’t know what to say to either of them, so I just shrug.
“She’s not bothering me. Anyway, have you seen Michael’s trainers?” I reply and let Daisy talk about this guy she thought was fit when she met him earlier. I let Ella listen to the lesson and pull the same face my mum does at the dinner table. 
I feel bad, but I can’t look after her too.

Dear Diary,
Dad moved out today. He and Mum have decided to separate temporarily. 
I do my make-up and perfect my hair before I leave the house.
Daisy meets me by the front gates of school, and I tell her my dad moved out.
She says, “Good riddance.” 
I say, “Good riddance,” and we laugh, walking through the front gates of school.

​

In every town, school, and neighbourhood, some young people go through life carrying an extraordinary responsibility—one that is often hidden behind their quiet demeanour or missed school days.

Young carers often slip through the cracks. Many do not self-identify as carers; they see their responsibilities as simply part of family life. Being a young carer myself, I have to look after a visually impaired man who struggles to travel, do daily tasks and other things we wouldn’t even have a second thought about doing. 

Part of the problem lies in the lack of awareness that is not there for young carers. That’s why I wanted to mention what my favourite singer/songwriter did to improve this. Yungblud, also known as Dom Harrison, wrote a song called “Zombie”, and it’s a beautiful song that takes a look into the life of a young carer and what it’s like for them, daily. 

They asked Florence Pugh to be the star of the music video, and I believe she did an outstanding job of portraying the day-to-day struggles of being a young carer. It shows the bonds that are made throughout the years of working, as well as the relationships and friendships that just suddenly fade away. Zombie shows how a service nurse's emotional toll and resilience, highlighting themes of burnout, grief, and the struggle to cope with the demands of the job. Trying to balance their personal life with the demands of their profession. Just watching the music video really hits home, not just for me but for thousands or even millions of people worldwide, and I believe Dom did a great job of spreading awareness. 

Dom chose the title “Zombie” for this song as it’s a metaphor that represents the feeling of being emotionally drained and detached, a state that many healthcare workers can relate to. The video also celebrates the unsung heroes of the healthcare system, those who keep showing up even when they feel like they are "zombies". 

The moment that sticks out of the shadows for me is that the video also conveys a sense of resilience and the importance of finding moments of light and connection amidst difficult circumstances. 

Here is a link to the music video, Zombie by YUNGBLUD: YUNGBLUD - Zombie (Official Music Video)​

To my brother, 

The one who loves, but doesn’t know how to show love. 

The first time my brother told me that he loved me was before he went on a 20-day-long work trip to a different country. It was the farthest we had ever been in distance, yet the closest we had ever been as siblings. 

I hated how he never expressed love through affectionate actions. For him, love meant saving up his salary to buy me a new T-shirt, sharing clothes with me, sharing food, thoughts, and small nighttime talks. 

Everyone said we were identical because we looked the same. I hated how I only saw our differences. I’m an emotional guy who profoundly expresses his emotions, and he’s a person who loves but hides it because of how much he’s fed with toxic masculinity. 

My brother came back from his work trip. And we all knew that he would be travelling soon to work in a country very far from ours. Ever since, my relationship with my brother has changed. We became particularly close; he was no longer afraid of the word “I love you,” or “I’ll miss you.” 

The big day arrived, and I cried so hard that my eyes went sore. It was the first time I saw him cry, the first time I heard him say “I love you,” and the first time he abandoned all his fragile masculine actions.

Today, Zoom calls are all I have left of my brother, with a bunch of T-shirts that he decided not to pack, but I’ve never been closer to him. Distance teaches us a lot of things; it makes us understand how vulnerable our loved ones are and how we’re willing to let go of everything, including our beliefs, just to be closer to them.  ​

Already, there’s probably some of you thinking, what IS a young carer? Without directly quoting Google, a young carer is a child, or young person who looks after someone with a physical, or mental disability. This is an umbrella term, because a lot of people think young carer and see the stereotype of looking after a parent, often in a wheelchair or with another physical disability. It’s so much more. There’s mental disabilities, there’s substance abuse, there’s so many different things to being a young carer. And they can also care for other family members, even siblings. It doesn’t just have to be a parent. 
 
There are hundreds of thousands of young carers in the United Kingdom alone, and so many more worldwide. It’s a tiresome battle, but they’re not alone. With the support of friends, family, school and work, that’s half the battle.
 
Being a young carer myself, if I could give any words of wisdom to people on what to do in order to help, all I would ask is to listen. We need someone to talk to, and sometimes things at home can get a bit too much. A rant, a listening ear. And compassion from work and teaching staff. Although there is some understanding, they should all be aware.
 
Although there are negatives, in the last 5 years, so much awareness has been raised about young carers, in Scotland there’s even a grant for those between 16-18 with a caring responsibility. If you actually are a young carer, there are loads of online forums that are helpful, teachers and bosses can help, and there are Young Carers support groups, not as cliche as it sounds. My group changed my life for the better. 
 
Just remember, there’s light at the end of the tunnel. And if you aren’t actually a young carer, just try your best to support us. It goes a long way. 

Alicia