BULLIED

Story 315

Life is a series of moments of which shape us; the first moments of our lives are the foundation we are built on. My name is Maddy, when I was little I was chunky and taller then the other kids; I wasn't really a cute kid either. ever since I could remember up until last year I never had genuine friends. From when I was a wee child up until 1st grade I didn't have any friends at all. The kids where cruel and made sure not to include me, I knew I had no one and often cried during school. I moved schools the summer before I entered 2nd grade. I made friends at my new school; it was a lie though. The kids that I called friends weren't my friends at all. I had the friends that people settle for. My sister was a part of the group and always seemed to egg the other kids on. They only acted like I exsisted when it was for their benefit; I was their living breathing joke. If they weren't making me feel terrible about anything and everything I wore; they made in front of my weight and hieght. Everyday I felt like it was the worst day of my life. By the time I was in 4th grade I had severe depression. I didn't know at the time what depression was or that it even exsisted. All I knew in 4th grade was that no matter what I felt alone, I didn't want to go to school out of fear. I never knew what I was scared of, I just knew I was scared of going to school. By the end of 4th grade I became use to feeling alone, scared, worthless helpless and more and more helpless. When I looked in the mirror all I could see the was the words those kids called me. Fat, ugly, slut, bitch, where burned into my mind and my own body was a reminder of every single letter of each and every horrible word. By 5th grade I wanted to kill myself. I shared a room with my sister so I couldn't think of anything, I just knew I wanted everything to end. By 6th grade the feeling of wanting to die was to much. I was at a football game wearing a hoodie with stringes, and I snapped. I wrapped the strings around my throat and pulled as hard as I could. I failed, the feeling of wanting to die felt like it was crushing me but the fact that I failed at actually killing my self destroyed me. I continued middle school completely numb. I didn't want to hang out with friends because I was alone even in a crowded class room I was alone. I did on and off dieting but always felt horrible about my body. In 7th grade I starved my self or threw up my food. I trapped my self in my room because I'd rather be alone then have to deal with feeling like I was nothing. I felt numb, empty, alone, and ready to die, I hung my self in my closet but my parents got home before I could even get my head in the belt. Last year I was in 9th grade. That was the year I had finally given up competley and had no more fight left. I cut my wrist drank myself into stuppers and took pills by the hand fulls. I snapped one night after a family friend told me that all I'm ever going to do is make people feel bad. This was after I told her I didn't trust her because she's unreliable. We'll call the family friend R. R made me feel like at that moment I was no better then anyone that has destroyed me in my past. She made me feel like I was my own worst night mare. I cut my wrist to try and bleed my self out. It was working but it wasn't fast. I got up cleaned the blood off of the floor and then hung my self. When I was about to pass out my parents knocked on the door. I had no choice but to get up cover my wrist and open the door. My sister had brought friends home and they found the blood covered razor I cut my self with. I finally told my parents I wanted to die.