I log into my profile after a long day of writing and blogging. The first thing I see on my home page is a new photo album of all of my “friends” at a party. I wasn’t aware of this party. Nevertheless, I like the picture anyway to try and convince myself that it doesn’t hurt me on the inside. I then go and check my messages; nothing new. My inbox has been completely dry for the last 4 months. Is it me? Maybe I did something. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Maybe everyone just doesn’t like me as much as I thought they did. Maybe I have social anxiety. Truth is; it’s a forever changing mystery.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been this really happy
social butterfly. Big colorful wings and all. I loved meeting new people,
making new friends and going around others. School was one of my most favorite
things ever. I couldn’t understand why some of my classmates didn’t like it.
Until one day, everything changed.
The bullying started.
Believe it or not, it took me quite a while to figure out
that certain kids in my class were bullying me. I just thought they were just
picking on me for being different. No big deal, right?
Wrong.
Over the years, the bullying got worse and worse. By the
time I was in fourth grade, I was more than ready to die. I couldn’t stand the
thought of getting up to go to school in the morning. I hated the fact that no
matter what the teachers did, no matter how much I cried, they wouldn’t stop. I hated that even the principal couldn’t help
me. I felt like I was in a prison. Once, I went to go cry to my teacher. I told
her to help me in any way she could. I told her that I just didn’t “want to be
here” anymore. She told me to ignore them. She told me to stay away from them.
Little pointer for all the teachers out there; staying away and ignoring, only
makes it all the worse.
Before I knew it, the
bullies had clipped me of my wings. I couldn’t fly anymore. I became afraid to
socialize, make new friends and meet new people. I figured that it was just
another opportunity to get bullied even more. Not to mention that for some odd
reason, most everyone I knew seemed to be embarrassed to talk to me at school,
and in public. I was treated like a virus, a disease, a sickness. And once
you’re treated like you’re worthless for a while, you start thinking to
yourself; maybe I am worthless. Maybe everything will be better if I just left.
Looking back, I think 7th grade was really the
height of it all. There was one day that really stood out for me. It was the
day that someone whom I thought was my friend, betrayed me. It seemed like a
small thing, but it really was the last straw for me. The main mean girl in my
life, let’s call her Cindy, saw this friend and I get into an argument. Cindy
quickly swooped in and took my friend’s side. I’m sure Cindy was more than delighted
that my friend was finally betraying me. It was the answer to her prayers. I
sat alone in every class for the rest of the day.
When I got home that day, I couldn’t do my homework. I
couldn’t think to change out of my school uniform. All I could think about was
how calming it would be to take my own life. I remember sitting there on my
bedroom floor, on my knees, bawling my eyes out, quietly. We only had one car
back then. So my mom had to pick up my dad from work. As soon as I heard her
drive away, the thoughts got worse. I remember thinking to myself, “Just get it
over with while mom’s gone.” I had everything figured out in my head. My older
brother was in his bedroom with the door closed. Perfect. I grew up a
Christian, so I knew that after it was all over, I would be in heaven. Even
though, I admit now that I kind of gave God the cold shoulder since he was
allowing my peers to torture me every single day. I pulled out my phone,
thinking that maybe music would make my last moments more peaceful or
something. I don’t know, I was like 12. My music was on shuffle, which is
something I didn’t normally do, but I didn’t care about something like that right then. I
pulled out my diary and ripped out a piece of notebook paper. I grabbed my favorite
purple ink pen out of the side of my backpack. I began writing furiously in big
letters, my suicide note. I remember writing out what kind of a funereal I
wanted, and everything. I wanted a small service, nothing too special, since I
figured that I wasn’t very special. After I was finished writing, I folded my note
and placed it on the edge of my bed, along with my phone. That’s when this song
came on that I had never really listened to before. I let it play, since I was
still way too busy crying. But over all the crying, I heard the lyrics.
Do you ever think of, what you're standing at the brink of
Feel like giving up, but you just can't walk away
Feel like giving up, but you just can't walk away
Night after night, always trying to decide
Are you gonna speak out or get lost in the crowd
Do you take a chance or stay invisible?
Are you gonna speak out or get lost in the crowd
Do you take a chance or stay invisible?
But I won't let you fall
I'll see you, through them all
And I just wanna let you know
I'll see you, through them all
And I just wanna let you know
Oh, when the lights go down in the city
You'll be right there, shining bright
You're a star and the sky's the limit
And I'll be right by your side
Oh, you know, you're not invisible to me
Oh, you know, you're not gonna be invisible
You'll be right there, shining bright
You're a star and the sky's the limit
And I'll be right by your side
Oh, you know, you're not invisible to me
Oh, you know, you're not gonna be invisible
For some reason, this made me think of my mom. It made the
picture how heartbroken she would be if she came home to find out that I had
taken my own life. I thought about my brother. He wouldn’t have a little sister
to bother all the time. And I thought about my dad. I wouldn’t be his little
girl anymore. That’s when I knew that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hurt my
family. Because even though it didn’t seem like it at the time, I knew deep
down inside that they would care. I knew that they did care. And I knew that if
I just held on, that things would get better in time.
And they did.
Now, I’m in high school. Well, for the most part. I’m home
schooled. Which I think is just fantastic. That means that I have more time to
write things like this. I have more time to help other girls who are still
being bullied today. These days, I feel freer to explore who I am. I know that
all teenagers go through this, but I feel like sometimes, it can be harder for
teens that have/are suffered/suffering from bullying. I can’t stand to know
that there are still teens out there that are still living the kind of life I
used to live. Self harming, being tortured and teased daily, having suicidal
thoughts. I know that I’m just one person; I know that I can’t reach everyone.
There are a few teens that have died over the last year or so since I started
giving advice, writing and blogging. Sometimes, I feel like my work is just
gone to waste, like no one sees it or gets anything out of it. But then, every
once in a while, there’s that one girl, that one boy, who I will talk to. I’ve
talked teens out of suicide before, which feels great. I’ve even helped with
some of the smaller everyday problems like what to do when you like a boy whom
you can’t read. A lot of different things.
As for the friend part, I can’t really say that I have any
steady friendships yet. I’ve had several more betrayals, misunderstandings,
jealously, sabotage, betrayals, and even more betrayals. But you know what? I
think that’s just a part of this whole "being a teenager" thing. I guess I like
my life right now. It’s a long process, but it's getting a little better each day. And somehow, I'm not afraid anymore.
Somehow after all this time,
I got a new pair of wings.
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