BULLIED

Story 450

Up until I was around seven years of age, I was content in my school. But when I was around seven years of age, this new boy joined my class. Being the shy person I am, I hung back from my classmates greeting him, waiting until he came over to me to introduce myself.

Eventually we grew rather close, and he started to insist that we were best friends. At that moment I was excited - I only really had one other close friend. But this close friend and himself engaged in an argument, and we could no longer hang out with each other like the happy and naïve seven-year-olds we should have been, for their stubborn personalities meant they would not overlook their differences.

As if this wasn't distressing enough for myself, who was attempting to carefully time how long I spent with each so the other didn't become jealous, they both began to fight over who I liked more. I tried to express that I had no preference over them, but my protests only angered them, and soon I grew to dread every moment I spent with them.

I didn't recognize this as bullying at the time, but now I don't know who was worse. The boy yelled and intimidated me before my classmates, who simply ignored what was happening in front of their eyes, while the girl became violent, shoving me around, both of them vying for my confirmation, my confirmation that I refused to give.

I stumbled into the classroom after lunch and break with tears streaming down my cheeks, yet even the teachers turned a blind eye. I became so sure that nobody would help me I hid this from my parents, even after the years passed and the three of us parted to go to different schools.

The girl was all but forgotten as I aged, yet the boy persisted. Pressuring my other friends for details, he tracked me down online and presumed his bullying. But this time he didn't even want me to tell him that he was my 'favourite'. Instead he seemed to just enjoy taking out his anger on myself, a girl too shy to defend herself.

Finally, he convinced me that I was the bully, not him. I got extremely depressed. I attempted suicide. I did manage to block him from all my social media, yet the damage had already been done. I isolated myself from everyone, crying myself to sleep each night. I couldn't believe that I could be the bully, that I was the selfish and cruel one in this situation, yet I did very much believe that I was.

Eventually I found someone. Another guy, in my class. We dated. I was still recovering, trying to push it all behind me. Then one afternoon, he asked me for my first kiss. It was a big thing for me - I had never kissed anyone other than my parents before, and I was nervous. So I told him, and I will never stop regretting it, "Just the cheek."

His friends began to tease him, call him names just because we hadn't 'properly' kissed yet. I don't know what he was thinking - maybe he was just tired and frustrated from it - but he blamed me. Friend after friend reported to me of him calling me names I will not repeat, behind my back, only to save his sorry butt.

On top of that, he openly argued against my hobbies, retorting that because I'm a girl or stupid reasons like that, I couldn't do things like game. And I didn't know what to do. Maybe I even believed him. All I knew is that I was balanced on the sensitive line of the in-between, and I was plunged off it straight back into depression.

I developed panic attacks. I started to cut. I sought relief by slicing a blade into my flesh. My anxiety and depression grew to such a height, that just from claustrophobia I was seized by a panic attack during a Science lesson. The concerned teacher reported me to 'Support', a voluntary group in my school who claimed to 'help students through hard times' or something equally hope-inspiring.

To be honest, I was relieved. I thought I finally found someone I could truly trust - someone to rely on, a shoulder to cry one. They promised that whatever I said would remain confidential, so I told them. Everything.

That's when they betrayed me.

As soon as I finished my story, they whisked me away to an empty classroom and commanded me to stay while they phoned my parents. They began to 'keep an eye' on me to ensure I wouldn't attempt suicide again, isolating me from my friends and snatching me from my lessons.

Of course, I just became more and more miserable. I know they must have had good intentions, but they had just tampered with my last straw, and again the idea of killing myself was beginning to look real friendly.

Then I met this guy online. It was just a sleepover at my friend's house, we were just trolling people on this website. But this guy, he just seemed to know I was not the happy self that the mask I wore claimed to say. So I poured out my story to him, despite having being betrayed more than once already, even as I began to grow reluctant of every word.

And this time, he didn't turn his back on me. He supported me, better than that stupid 'Support' in school, better than anybody else. I reverted to being homeschooled, keeping in contact. Slowly, with him prompting me along the way, I am once more recovering. I have been talking to him for less than a year, and already I have quit cutting, already suicide is becoming less and less of a possibility.

It's slow work, and not been easy. At one point all I became was the fury I had kept concealed for so long, insulting myself and him, yet he isn't like everyone else, and he hasn't abandoned me. And I don't think he'll ever really understand how much he aided me through hopelessly dark moments of loneliness and fear, but I will keep thanking him until he does.

~Please may I just put in, no I am not doing this for attention, nor for sympathy, as I am not expecting any. It is a weight off my chest to be able to share this story, and I am only just learning to trust again.~