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Am Scotty, I was born on the 15th day of April 1991. I lived home with my parents and I was the only child. My father was a consultant, my mother, a solicitor. My school mates believed that we were part of social stratification because I was provided with a safety net of protection against unanticipated sudden crisis whilst their own parents lacked resources necessary for survival. I did not discriminate because I felt that we were all equal. I felt isolated and miserable.

MY PUBERTAL PROBLEMS

At the age of 15, I was a gentle, calm, peaceful but witty however, I was isolated and hated by my classmates because of social barricade. I became unsure of myself and I was depressed. Their attitudes towards me were torturing and I wondered why my parent's fortune had to do with me. I was sociable, friendly towards everyone and did not behave like a spoiled child and never felt myself better than them. I never told my father about my problems because I thought my classmates would hate me more and make my life a living hell. My father was a person with little understanding towards the young generation and would make a mess out of it. He was very strict. My mother on the other hand was very understanding but she was too emotional and often reacted sadly to every rebuff I encountered. Thus, although my parents were there for me, I lived in a life of total isolation.

As time passed, I grew in height and weight as well as pubic hair and hair under my arms. I had problems with my skin due to Acne. My voice became deeper which coincided with enlargement of my testicles. These changes continued making me feel embarrassed. My father did not even notice the changes in me. We never talked together and even if we conversed, he was the speaker and I, the listener. With all the riches and academic status of my parents, I was unhappy and trapped between the grown-up world and my own world. They were my parents but I omitted to tell them about my personal problems and decided to pass through my difficult teenage period single-handedly but I did not know how.

My fear which deeply concerned me was how other teenagers cope with the situation. I felt that I was a complete dupe and thought I would as well be a little more foolish and enter life by the most challenging of entrances instead of revolting against my parents. In my mind, I contemplated to tolerate problems now and perhaps learn from it and give my children something better to look forward to if I had children one day. The life of desperate boredom I endured convinced me that unless I told someone about my condition, I would never overcome my dilemma.

I became ambivalent and rapidly worn-out and wanted to be left alone to "fly in my own world." I spent days figuring about my life but I was interrupted by increase emotionality. Although I grew facial hair it did not let me feel like a guy as others did. I stood in front of the mirror for hours to look at myself because the changes in my body continued. I was feverishly unhappy. I did not smoke, drink, nor had desire for drugs even though, I had little self-confidence.

VISIT FROM A WISE MAN

In my loneliness, sitting in my room, the trees and flowers seemed to have better life than me. I gazed at my windows because I knew that strong souls retained and increased their strength best by solitude. My thoughts did not last long.

Unexpectedly the door flew open and in came an old man. I had not seen the man before. The old man asked me, "What would you choose- a joyful youth, free from problems or a harmonious old age"? Indeed, I was taken by surprise and stood up from my chair thinking that he was a ghost; I could not believe my eyes. I looked up and down and hesitated and said, "if I said joyful formative years, I would have to keep on suffering all the rest of my life as I am suffering now". I faltered and after a while I said to myself, "No, I will bear difficulties now, and have something better to look forward in the future". I looked at the trees and flowers, shivering and said to the old man, "Give me a happy youth". The old man said, "So is it" and disappeared out of the room.

That very night I prayed earnestly to God to make life better for me and do away with my problems. After the old man had gone whether or not he was a ghost, I learnt that life was bona fide, real, earnest and serious but everything depended on me. I could only have positive response to my prayers if I helped myself and did something about my miserable situation.

MY TORMENTED SOUL

I needed motivation from friends but I had none, the only boy I could befriend was Tommy but he was a bully. On top of all my problems, I was bullied by Tommy and his gangs, whom by their corporeal advantages had given them good physique. They hit me and tormented me in a sickening manner. Tommy`s early maturing gave him psychological advantages. He bullied me and pushed me around at school. Tommy and his gang kicked me until I felt down; they never stopped and continued kicking me downhill towards the river side. Some of my books were burnt, sequestered and confiscated but there was nobody to report to. I could not tell the teachers at school because the boys would bully me severely. Every now and then they seized my overcoat, hand gloves and school bags and I often went home with scratches, bruises, nose bleeding, excoriations and abrasions but my parents never noticed. I felt sensitive; with extreme sensations of erratic emotions.

I was indeed very withdrawn because my emotions could not survive under those circumstances. My troubled frown and expression was visible to everyone except my parents.

My life dwindled away to nothing owing to the sordid pestering horrors and had ache in my heart. My logical mind realized that there was only one concession possible. I had to air my thoughts to my parents before fear kept me hushed. My father had did not have to cling to his long-held ideas; otherwise his life would be a desert with emptiness and void realities.

HORRENDOUS NIGHTS

I lay in my bed thinking every night with tears on my cheeks. My tears trickled into my pillows but I struggled to sleep. I slept often uneasily with the same disquiet. My unrelenting dulling of sorrow in me was harder for me to bear than anything else. I carried a molten dumbness like lead within me and kept on recurring whenever I went to bed. I wondered, if the grown-ups who at one time or another had been teenagers themselves, and who ought therefore to understand me did not even observed my problems; a period in a teenagers life when every sorrow seemed permanent and every set-back was unbeatable. Yet, it seemed that nobody cared. During those miserable days I fully believed that I would never overcome my psychological objectives in life. It was frustrating. At length I decided, despite my father`s pomposity to confront him.

However, weeks went by while I carried the thought of a thousand useless ways of framing my words. I tried to say to myself that even the branches of trees with leaves whisper to themselves. I stood on my head, on one hand, on two fingers and knocked my bed with my wrists trying to find a way to talk to my father and only through the physical knowledge would the spiritual be known. He finally narrated his problems to his parents who offered him their understanding and loving care. He grew out of his problems and became a good advocate for teenage boys with pubertal and other problems.

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