Resilience Within. Cameron Fancourt
the future and what we wanted to do with our lives. Colin was always a risk-taker, driving his parent’s car around the streets unlicensed, getting himself into all sorts of trouble. Even with his rebellious streak he was a very gentle, caring and fun-loving guy.
Colin wanted to take his girlfriend home on my bicycle on that fateful night. I had two bikes at the time so I agreed that he could use one of them to take his girlfriend home and return it back to me the next day. I remember standing on the corner of our street as he set off to take her home. I wandered up to the corner with him, watching him ride off into the distance. Not knowing what was around the corner, I reflect on that night and remember the eerie feeling I had; something just didn’t feel right. Colin was killed on his way home that night, He had crossed the road before the lights had changed and was hit by a car on my bicycle. I did not get word of this until several hours later. That night I had gone to our high school to meet Colin and my sister to pick them up after a school event. Whilst I was walking through the grounds of the school, I can remember hearing sirens blaring in the distance near our local Shopping Centre, wondering what was going on. I returned home later that evening to hear the news, Colin had been killed. He was unable to be revived. I did not want to imagine this was real. It felt like a nightmare and I was in total shock. How could someone so young be dead? How could he have died on my bike, what did he do, what could I have done to save this happening. All these thoughts filled my head like a freight train charging through town. It was overwhelming and I just could not believe what I was hearing. I looked aimlessly out the window of my parent's bedroom, looking across the street at Colin’s bedroom which could be seen from their room. I remember watching for some light to turn on, hoping this was a dream, but sadly it wasn’t. Colin never came home, and that room and house stayed in darkness to me forever.
That night was one of the longest nights of my life. Filled with pain and sorrow, the sheer grief of this tragic loss was implanted in my mind forever. My parents tucked my sister and I up in their bed, doing their best to try and calm and reassure us the best that you can in a situation like this. We did not really comprehend what had happened. I don’t think any thirteen-year-old kid could. The next day I was emotionally exhausted. I was so numb I didn’t know how to deal with these wild emotions rushing through my body. I wanted to stay at home and in bed all day, however my parents suggested it was best to go to school to try and get on with the day. I remember how scared, lonely and sad I was that day. Having to walk to school that day on my own was very traumatic for me. There was still such an eerie feeling that felt so foreign to me. It was like I was walking in some other dimension trying to grasp what had happened and just could not comprehend it. A usual walk I took with Colin with the usual cigarette puffing on the way and small talk that left us in stitches most mornings was gone in a blink of an eye. I cried all the way to school that morning and pretty much the rest of the day. It was one of the longest days of my life. Arriving at school that morning, the accident was the talk of the school. So many people had heard this tragic news and were walking around in tears or with shocked looks on their faces. Many people came up to me, offering their condolences, but I was in too much shock to respond.
After Colin's funeral, it felt like we just got on with life. My parents and I rarely spoke of Colin afterwards. I had to just get on with life and accept it for what it was. This was what we had been taught and never really knew how to bring it up in conversations at home again. I had buried that pain and those emotions deep inside and had hoped that as time went on the pain would eventually go away. This was a painful experience for a child of my age. I did not know how to manage these emotions that would flare up regularly and the catastrophic thinking that followed as a result of the anxiety I felt. I started to fear my own mortality. If it was that easy for Colin to die, then it must be for me or anyone around me. The reality of life and death was unbearable to imagine. I kept on pushing the pain away and kept busy on meaningless tasks to avoid having to face it all.
Re-living the Pain
Some twelve months later, my mother received a phone call from the local Police. The Police officer had asked for us to attend the station and collect the bike from them. Our high school was located right next to the station. My mother suggested that it should be easy enough for me to collect it one afternoon after school. I procrastinated for weeks, avoiding it like the plague. Riddled with anxiety thinking about what I had to do was deeply painful. After building up the courage, I arrived at the station after school one afternoon. I waited aimlessly in the foyer for a few minutes which felt like it was in slow motion. Next minute the officer walked around the corner with my mangled bike. It had Colin’s shoes strung over the handlebars and a plastic bag the Constable handed to me. Inside was Colin’s bloodstained and broken watch and wallet. I remember his watch had been broken prior to the accident and been tapped up with sticky tape. He had written ‘I love STʼ on it, this was his girlfriend at the time. I remember shaking at the knees and suddenly burst into tears. How on earth was I to walk two kilometers home with this mangled bike that couldn’t even be wheeled.
It was horrific for me, reliving that fateful night of Colin’s death and the pain of it all over again. I was wept all the way home. I was imagining all sorts of things that had happened to him on my bike as I dragged it home. It was one of the most horrible experiences of my life.
Losing Myself
As the years passed the happy little kid I once was began to dwindle. The tensions and stress in our family, with schooling and the prospect of the end of school fast approaching, it became unbearable in those later teenage years. I was failing exams and had no direction at all. There were lots of peer pressures and with the underlying trauma I was carrying my life began to spiral out of control. My sense of security, safety, and feeling of ease as a kid had gone. I felt I had to grow up too fast and there was a part of my childhood I had missed out on. Having to deal with adult experiences and events that no thirteen-year-old kid should have to deal with contributed to this majorly. I did not want to be at home anymore, but I did not want to be alone either. I started to experience chronic anxiety and fears about my own mortality and what the future was to hold for me. I was afraid of death and have been ever since Colin died. This made the fears even stronger and I was feeling totally lost, smothered and anxious all at once.
After a long period of these fears and anxieties continuing, my parents suggested that perhaps I needed some counseling. They also suggested that I see a career advisor to help me get some direction with my future. I was flaking my grades and just didn’t want to be at school anymore. I didn’t have any idea what I wanted to do when I left school and that was making it equally hard.
The anxiety started to take a hold, experiencing panic attacks at school, running in fear for my life. I didn’t understand what was going on. I was going to fight to ensure that I did not die young like Colin. I didn’t want to miss out on the future of being a father, being successful in my career and being able to prove my worth to my family and the world. I had to be something and had to prove that no matter what. But sadly, I was so miserable, losing ground faster than I even realised. I was so lost and mentally going downhill at a rate of knots.
My grades plummeting and I didn’t know what I could do to get my focus and concentration back to succeed. My economics teacher suggested that perhaps I would be better off getting out there and being an entrepreneur and making money, rather than sticking it out at school which really wasn’t working for me. I felt like such a failure. I just couldn’t concentrate, and the anxiety was making it even harder for me to focus.
I had reached a point at the age of seventeen where my anxiety and panic disorder started to take a hold of my life. It was so scary as I did not know what was going on and why I was feeling so strange every single day. Short of breath, heart-pounding, sweaty palms and everything that goes with anxiety. I was running out of the school in fear, wondering what was going on, what was wrong with me. I could not tell a soul out of fear that I would be judged. It was so debilitating and no wonder I couldn’t focus on my schooling!
After leaving school, I initially worked in construction for a friend’s building company. This was not for me. Dirty hands, dusty environment all seemed like too much hard work for me. I went on to study a Hospitality Management degree after the advice of a career advisor. I didn’t even