Excerpts of my life

Finding the light again

Jamie, Age 15, High School Sophomore

You called me beautiful, and although I fished for it, I believed you. 

It really felt like we had something special.

After her party, you didn't mind walking me to the bus stop because it was late, 

you didn't mind waiting with me till the bus arrived 10 minutes later.

We had so much fun in class and eating together during recess.

Sadly, I always felt like I had to get permission to hang out with you.

I'd sit alone, waiting to see if you guys would sit with me or call me over.

What on earth was I expecting? Why was I expecting so much from you?

Thinking back, I was such an attention seeker.

I craved attention so badly that I had to put myself in miserable situations just to wait for you to take pity on me.

Was it because I grew up that way?

Jamie, Age 9 to 12

Back in elementary school, I never had any friends. Real ones, at least.

I guess that's why I always felt like I had to get reassurance that they were there for me. 

When they said they were my friends,

When they said they were always going to be there for me, in the end, it wasn't true, obviously.

But I sure as hell believed it was.

I longed for love, for real friendship.

So much so that I lied to myself.

"She's gonna stick with you.",

"You are her best friend after all.","You can trust her, she's gonna stay with you.".

Stupid, pathetic lies I always told myself,

to keep me afloat, so I wouldn't feel lonely.I wanted nothing to do with being on my own.

I was so damn dependent.

I never thought for myself, I'd always put my 'friends' first, m

let them use me.

I didn't care, because then I wouldn't have to do anything on my own.Why was I so afraid of being alone?

Ahh, because of the bullies.

They would always hit me, in-between classes.

Over and over, every damn day, and I never did a freaking thing.I never told on them, because I thought they'd just hurt me more if I did.

What hurt the most was that no one defended me. 

No one helped me.

No one told on them.And that sick notion was etched into my mind, that it was alright that I was being bullied.

I never got any bruises - no proof - that I was ever hit.

My parents would ask me, "how was school?" or, "is anything bothering you?"

And I'd always say, "it was fine, I'm okay."

For 6 whole years. That was all I'd say.

I'd hate myself.Hate how scared and pitiful I was. 

How helpless I made myself feel.

Then I'd think it was all my fault.

I ate too much, that's why I was fat, and that's why they hit me.

It was my fault.

Writing it now does it knock on my heart. It doesn't really hurt, not like the first time I wrote this down.

(edit: they were very late, but the tears finally came)

Jamie, Age 18, College Sophomore

With this chapter, I hope I can let my sadness, my self-hatred and pity go.

To my pain, thank you for what you've taught me.

-fin-