Lesson The First:
It gets better.
You’ve probably heard a lot about Dan Savage’s It Gets Better project. Savage and his husband have established a project dedicated to giving hope to LGBT youth, many of whom are bullied, confused or depressed to the point –entirely too often to the point– of suicide.
It gets better for being a fat kid, too.
High school sucks. It just does. Even when it’s great it sucks, because being a teenager sucks and although you’ll look back with a sort of yearning once you’ve got car payments and rent and a stupid job in a stupid cube where your stupid cube neighbor WON’T STOP CRACKING HER GUM *CRACK CRACK CRACK* ALL DAY LONG OH MY GOD WHAT IS *WRONG* WITH YOU??? at how carefree your life was, don’t you believe it.
No one who has ever done or been anything close to interesting ever looked back on high school as their glory days.
I actually didn’t have a terrible time of it in high school. I had a wonderful boyfriend, got good grades, was relatively popular and talented and even was homecoming princess. And still it sucked. The thing is, high school is like the first time you drive your borrowed luxury vehicle into a Mexican border town at midnight, drink the most rotted tequila this side of a paralytic worm, get violently sick all over your aformentioned luxury vehicle –which you parked on the street– and try to communicate with the incredibly amused townsfolk in VERY LOUD FRENCH when regular-volume French wasn’t meeting with the desired success. It’s awful, but you’ll have terrific stories to tell at cocktail parties and you can remind yourself in grim situations that things might be bad, but at least you’ll never have to go through THAT again.
You’ll graduate. You’ll probably go to college (but seriously consider taking a year off to travel first. I didn’t and I regret it in many ways) and soon the people you went to high school with who were the most important movers and shakers in your world will be little specks on your memory. The ones you’ll cyberstalk every five years or so to see they’ve gone gratifyingly bald or have ugly children.
The point is: Don’t give up hope. Don’t think that what you’re going through now will mean anything in five, ten, fifteen years. It won’t. Unless you let it.