This all began around the end of 5th grade. My best friend left the school, as well as another good friend. But I was absolutely destroyed when my older brother, Derek, left for collage.
He moved all the way from the comforts of San Antonio Texas, to Chicago Illinois. My bestie for life left me. The summer after 5th grade was a normal summer. Then came middle school. It wasn't as bad as you would think, however that's when the bullying started. For the first time in my life I was called a " slut " and " Prostitute ", and many others I'm sure behind my back. 6th grade went in a blink of an eye. But then the Hell began in 7th grade. These boys began to call me nasty names including; whore, slut, thot, bitch, and many others. A boy began to call me fat. They treated me like this for months. But nobody believed me. So I was stuck inside my shell all by myself. " Where were her parents?" You may ask, well I made the decision to not tell them anything. Worst decision of my life. So I expiemented with cutting, but it didn't help. Was thinking about suicide every single day. And It was a war to stay alive for one more day.
I already struggle with ADHD, so when the depression came on it was, like your worst nightmare come true. I began to talk to my parents. They helped a lot but it wasn't enough. I don't know. Because the bullying continued. Someone had started a rumor that I had anorexia. So one day a group surrounded me at lunch. They began to ask me if it was true, and what it was like. I bet I you are asking now, where are the teachers, that was my biggest fear. That the teachers don't pay attention enough to see them picking on me and see me in tears, to where my shirt is soaked in salty water. The boys and girls now began to bully my best friend. We were so alone. Nobody to go to, nobody's help. We were lost for days. Then one day My friend and I sat with a different group, but the boy still found us. He said, " why are y'all sitting with people, y'all deserve to be alone, so go over there and sit by yourself. " it was like God sent angles to rescue us. My parents had just seconds before walked in to eat lunch with us. They saw us crying and took us to the office. By then the office was the only place we felt safe.
The boy later that month was expelled for bringing drugs to school. But the question that still swims in my head is " why didn't the teachers do anything before?" But I don't think that will ever be answered.
The devil had finally given it a rest. However I began to hear voices, they were haunting me. One night I had a panic attack and they felt so real and I was so scared. I was taken to the emergency room and they gave me meds to help take them away.
The depression fell on my like a 100lbs weight. I was still thinking about suicide. However by this point I never called it that I called it, Going Home, I would have anxiety attacks where I would just repeat over and over, " I want to go home." Of corse this was hard on my parents. So I was taken to a place called Clarity. It is a place were teens can go when they need help. Kind of like a teen rehab center. I stayed there for six days. It helped a lot. But there was no going back to school like this. So my parents pulled me out of school, my mom quit her job, and I am now a homeschooler.
I will not say that everything is rainbows and sunshine now, not even close but I'm in recovery. For the past year life has been a nightmare that never ended. I have been to hell and back. The bullying still haunts me today but I had to choose if I wanted to get better or not. I think I chose right. I want to see the crooked smile on my face again, and laughing with my friends and family. I'm tired of hiding this side of me. I miss the old me. I want it to be known. I want everybody to know that recovery is possible. " To get to the light you have to pass through the deepest darkness." ( the lucky one) my journey is definitely not over yet, and it won't be for a while. 🙈🙉🙊👍
( one day I got so angry at myself that I ripped my favorite big basket ball picture into a bunch of pieces. My mother taped it back together. )
( one day I got so angry at myself that I ripped my favorite big basket ball picture into a bunch of pieces. My mother taped it back together. ) 😊
The story of our lives has an ending but I don't think we are suppose to know it. Because we might not like it. But who are we to get in the way of our fate. I will need some time to learn how to love my life for how it is but for now I'm going to learn how to love me for who I am.
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