Dear High School Seniors: An Open Letter to the Class of 2020 from a Mental Health Counselor
By Mary Claire Schibelka, LPC
Dear High School Seniors,
This is the time you have been waiting for. It’s warming up outside, and the days are getting longer. Both are signs that the end of the school year is drawing near. This May marks the 10-year anniversary since I graduated high school, and I still remember the excitement of looking out a classroom window, knowing that soon, I would be free.
I also remember the spring sports. Going to high school baseball games felt extra fun when I knew my foot was halfway out the door.
I remember prom dress shopping, and of course, the prom, itself. Like I was, I know many of you have been dreaming of prom since you were kids.
Graduation, although long and hot, was a rite of passage. It almost felt like I left a different person than who I was when I arrived.
I know you, graduating class of 2020, have been longing for these experiences, along with senior barbeques, senior pranks, and senior trips, since not only the beginning of this year, but since the beginning of high school, if not the beginning of your entire school career. Never did you think that the senior year experience you’d been counting down to would disappear, seemingly in a matter of days, because of a global pandemic.
You might be feeling angry, grumbling, “It’s not fair,” under your breath.
Maybe you’re sad, knowing that the end-of-year memories you counted on making with your best friends are no longer an option.
Maybe you’re scared, wondering how the state of the economy will affect your financial aid for college or your entry into the workforce.
I’m willing to bet some of you feel hopeless. Maybe college was your chance for a fresh start or an escape from a less-than-ideal living situation, and now you’re not so sure if your plans for this fall are still on.
There’s a lot of pressure right now- to be grateful, to be productive, to somehow stay in control during a situation that is completely out of our control- but I’m not here to tell you any of those things.
I’m here to tell you that it’s okay to not be okay right now. It’s okay to feel any of those feelings I mentioned before, along with any others you might be experiencing. It’s also okay if you’re not feeling much of anything. Having either very strong or muted emotions during this time doesn’t mean you’re weak or selfish or crazy or broken. It means you’re human, and you’re grieving, not only for the absence of the people you planned to see for two more months at school, but also for the experiences you thought you’d have.
One of my favorite ways I’ve heard grief described is as the loss of a dream. That is exactly what is going on right now. Emotions associated with grief include anything from irritability, despair, anger, and shame to apathy, disbelief, numbness, and even relief. Other symptoms include difficulty concentrating, decreased or increased energy level, headaches, feeling like you don’t belong, over/underachieving, seeking more attention, and so many more (seriously, Google it). Grief symptoms also might change rapidly, causing you to feel scattered or confused by your own emotions and behavior.
A common belief is that everybody experiences grief differently. While it is true that everybody experiences grief symptoms at different levels and in a different order, people who are grieving often have more in common than they realize.
I encourage you, at this time, to accept whatever it is you might be feeling without judgment. Take some time to sit with your feelings. Get to know them. Journal about them. And when you’re ready, talk about them with a trusted friend, family member, or counselor.
I see you, high school seniors of 2020, and I am grieving with you as I picture myself 10 years ago forgoing the experiences I was lucky enough to have. Be with yourselves, allowing yourself to witness your own pain, and be with each other in spirit by connecting and supporting one another from afar. As you pioneer this crisis, being the first to ever experience a senior year of this kind, remember- you are doing better than you know.
Warmly,
Mary Claire Schibelka, LPC