Submission 1135

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I have been bullied almost my entire life. Started in grade three, still going. Everyday at school kids would call me fat, ugly, stupid, loser, etc. And it all got the better of me. In grade five I had begun starving myself. I hated those names and I had though that making myself skinny would fix it.

I know... Grade five? Starving myself? Well that's what happened. I began to get underweight and by grade six I was diagnosed with anorexia. The name calling had only gotten worse. Instead of the word fat, it was replaced with freak, anorexic and whore. I didn't know what they had wanted anymore. So I fell into a deeper depression.

Everything I had lived once, soccer, art, playing the trombone, I lost it. I couldn't play soccer anymore because I'd faint. Art seemed to be a hassle and I didn't have enough air to play an instrument. My whole life was falling apart.

My dad began blaming my mother for this, and they had devorced by grade seven. My brothers turned on me and we ended up having to be separated. They had dad one week while I was with my mother. She yelled at me almost every day about how I ruined her marriage, and my father won't even talk to me anymore.

My family was literally falling apart. I felt I had no belonging anywhere. So I ran away. I ran away from my home and had hid for three months out on the streets. It was getting colder outside, due to our early winter ax That was when it had begun school again, except I never attended.

I had picked up smoking and drugs from locals around. My 'street friends' had pressured me to do them and I just cracked under pressure.

I had done them about once a week to keep them happy. I was very lucky to escape addiction.

Late November I was sitting out on a bench and that was when my oldest brother had found me. I tried running, not wanting to be apart of their lives anymore, but he had caught up to me.

Then I had realized how much he had missed me. That was the first time I had been hugged in a year. I was brought home and my parents were worried sick. My other brother, two years younger, was crying.

I still knew I had no one to turn to. I was fourteen and lost to the world. I was forced to attend school once more, and found that being a frail, anorexic girl is a topic for bullies. I was beaten in the school hallways, but no one cares unless a teacher was nearby.

I began cutting. Every night, 1-3 cuts and crying myself to sleep. I still hadn't quit smoking, although the drugs were gone. I smoked half a pack a day by the end of eighth grade. Scars were lined up along my arm, legs and stomach. People would ask and taunt, but my excuse was always an evil cat.

Grade nine, I fell into the deepest hole. I was so depressed I had made one final cut that I hoped would end my life. That night I was rushed to the hospital and they saved me. I hated it. Two weeks after released, I couldn't stand it anymore. The taunting had gotten worse. They called me names and jeered about my suicide attempt.

So I tried again and I was sure it would work this time. I grabbed all of my anorexia pills and had swallowed them. I then went to sleep hoping to die in my sleep.

I woke up in a hospital room... Again.

Released once more I lied to my family and hadn't attended school for a month. I hung out and smoked with my 'street friends' all day.

By the beginning of grade ten I was punched my the people I thought understood me. They stole my possession and I never saw them again.

That was the night I had begun reflecting on my choices. I had decided that I want to live. Although there is always going to be that lingering thought in my head of death, I haven't attemped again. I have been clean from cutting for two months now, although smoking is still a horrid habit. Sometimes I look at my ribs and think what have I done? Still anorexic, I have tried eating more and am slowly getting better.

But the one thing I regret the most is my cutting. One day I'm going to meet someone and their going to ask, 'why," and I can't lie anymore.

One day we're going to have kids and they are going to see my scars and ask what had happened, and I can't lie. I'm still scared of what others might do to me when they know everything which is why it's so hard to open up to anyone.

I call the kids help line one a week, feeling I canst trust anyone I know, for they have all betrayed me when I needed them the most.

The people still bully me, although it had gotten somewhat better. I can't help but hate myself these days... But I know I can't sink any deeper than where I was 2-3 years ago.





What type of bulling did I experience?

I had received many. They were mainly Cyber bullying, physical and verbal abuse

Who bullied me?

Old friends, brothers, classmates and even a teacher

How long have you been bullied for? Are you still being bullied?

I'm currently in grade twelve, eighteen years old. It started in grade three, nine years old. I am still being bullied, but it isn't near as bad as grade nine and ten.




QUESTION: I need to know how to live with all of this. It's still very hard on me and I'm scared. Please can someone help me with coping..?



ADVICE: PLEASE do not cut. You will have those scars forever. Although some may feel that they deserve it, that it releases emotional pain out into physical pain, please don't. It only comes back to haunt you. 

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