Growing up, I moved a lot as a kid so I didn’t really have a ton of permanent friends. I grew up being a "bigger" kid or "that girl that no one found attractive." Of course, I was younger, and didn’t think it would haunt me growing up; I was so wrong. As I grew up, it became worse... Every single day I was being taunted. It wasn’t always words, or looks... It was also the gut feeling i would get when people were in a group looking at me and laughing.. Pointing. I tried my hardest to not let it bother me, if people were that concerned with MY appearance, they obviously had a really crappy heart. I grew up with the motto “If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” It wasn’t JUST my appearance I got picked on for, my voice, my braces, my hair, the fact that I had divorced parents, it just never ended. I then moved to where I currently have lived for seven plus years, hoping it would be better... I was wrong, again. I never really understood the concept of wearing a $50 shirt when I can get basically the same one for 20... And in high school, I guess that mattered. I would get stared at if I wasn’t talking, or even if I was talking, no matter what I did... I was getting stared at. I tried my hardest to never really complain about it, because let's be real. You do not want to be seen as the kid who cries bully every day. That was where I was wrong. You see, I needed to learn how to speak up... Stand up. Every hall I turned was like a new battlefield that I was defenseless in. I couldn’t even walk in the halls without a group of girls staring at me and calling me rude names.. And all I would do is walk past them. Even my own friends would bully me, without them even knowing it:
“Shut up, dumb b*tch.”
“Wow, you ate all of that?”
“It’s okay, she's smart so she's gonna give the assignment to us.”
“Maybe if you didn’t spazz when we had presentations, I’d be your partner."
I ended up laughing at all these names but deep down, I felt like true death. I would go home and do nothing but write down each name I was called daily... To remind myself what I was. Each night at 2 AM I would read these words and cram them into my brain, trying to tell myself to stop being these awful and cruel things. I wanted to be liked, I just wanted to be happy... I’d do anything. My mind would not let me change, no matter how hard I tried... And my friends were not helping. As the days went on, so did my notes... I felt like nothing could help me anymore. I didn’t want to go to school anymore, I just wanted to stay in my bed and remind myself how awful everyone saw me as. No teacher understood that I wasn’t in school for weeks on end because of how my mind was thinking. At this point I didn’t even feel welcome around my own friends, and that was when it hurt. Around the last month of my junior year, I started eating lunch in the bathroom by myself or in different teachers' classrooms. It wasn’t until my one art teacher asked me what has been going on with me that I finally cracked. I hate getting anyone in trouble, I would rather suffer with the pain. As I started bursting into tears, I finally told him every detail of my life... I wasn’t the only one in tears. It wasn’t supposed to be like this... Isn’t school supposed to make you feel safe, protected? I was then called into my school counselor the next day... And was forced to tell every detail of what had been going on in my life. This then led to me having a therapist, which then led to two more therapists. No one really cared about my issues, all they cared about was that money hitting their wallet. The one therapist even told me “You need to try curing your depression, it is your main issue.” She acted as if my depression could be cured by something found in a first aid kit, and it can not. I ended up gaining the courage to start reporting my problems, to find in return... A lot of kids thanked me and called me an inspiration. It turns out, I wasn’t the only kid going through this. A lot of people never report their incidents because they feel as if they aren’t “important,” “silly and stupid,” or just plain “I didn’t want to in fear of it getting worse.” I was called a ton of sweet names now and more people talked to me, but I never felt like they meant any of those words. I still walk the halls not feeling like I belong there or should even be breathing. My friends started telling me that I was just overreacting and I need to get over it. How could I EVER forget the nights I spent in my room crying until 5 AM, then had to wipe it off and get on the bus. How could I ever forget the rude names that piled up on my shoulders weighing me down more and more everyday? How could I forget the damage I have done to myself and my body... Trying to forget those words and awful things in my life. I told myself I would never get better, my life could not possibly go on with all the damage done to my brain and heart. Because how can anyone hold their ground if everyone around them wants to bury them beneath it?
I’m here to tell you, things do get better... Not always right away, but they will.
I am now a senior and attend college and a photography program... I told myself I’d never make it this far. I did it, I survived even on the nights I felt like death was my only option, and oh yea, everyone said that I couldn’t do it...? I’m here to tell you, you’re wrong, and I am so much better off without you.
Love,
The Girl Who Survived.
