This month I finally created my dream blog and made my first post, but it’s been a little more than two weeks since then! Honestly, there’s been a mixture of family drama, procrastination and lack of motivation (which I’ll address in a later post). I am in love with the idea of this blog, so I’m going to stick with it and post as much as I can. It does make me feel kinda nervous though because I want everything to be “perfect” but I realized that this is something I could see as a sort of a good anxiety. It’s enough so I’ll accomplish what I need to (posting & updating), but not so much that I’m really uncomfortable. It’s also helping me with something I’ve had a problem with for the past couple years, perfectionism. I’m learning that it’s okay to make mistakes, and slowly I’m getting over being so harsh on myself for the little things that don’t go how I want. I’d always been more forgiving of others’ mistakes than of my own and that really needed to change.
Now I think I’ll focus on the actual point of this post (which I probably should have been doing). I want to give you a better idea of who I am and how I got here. I’m not sure how interesting it will turn out to be, but I think it needs to be here for you if you can relate (and I guess if anyone just wanted to read it). I’m going to try to go through it quickly, but so much seems to have happened in my 15 years here, y’know?
So, OUR STORY BEGINS… (What am I even doing right now?)
I was born in 2000, which I thought was so cool when I was younger because it’s the year of the dragon. (Such a badass, right?) My parents were a very unstable couple. They never married, but they had me and my brother (who’s three years and a couple months younger). Obviously, (because I was so little) I can’t remember much, but apparently I had stayed with my grandparents often that I was practically living with them when my biological parents lost custody (for fighting while holding me). Truthfully, I think I’m missing several details, and I’m not sure if I really want to know what those details might be. My grandparents adopted me and are legally my parents, which always confuses people. For future reference, I will be calling my birth parents my “biological” mother or father. Because I was adopted when I was so young, I just call my grandparents mom and dad (and legally they are). I don’t want to go on forever, so I’ll skip over some parts of my life. And I mean, technically they could been seen as important… (Won’t be huge things, I promise)
Elementary school is where it all started, or at least where I remember it starting. I think that’s a little surprising because it was a bad experience for me and since I was younger, it made up a decent portion of my childhood.
I know that after I left that place to go to a middle school, there were some events at my elementary I was invited to. I guess it was so hard for me there that I had high anxiety or even panic attacks when I came back. At the time, I didn’t know what it was or why I felt so horrible.
By now you’re probably wondering what happened that made elementary school so bad. It was the bullying, but I’m still hesitant to call it that. I’ll share this little insecurity of mine with you, I feel like if I say bullying and tell my story, then people won’t think it was bad enough to be called bullying. I’m scared they’ll invalidate the pain I felt. Realistically, since I’m posting this online, it could happen. The thing is, even with this insecurity and even if I’m not so sure of myself, I have to be confident and able to talk about these things. If someone tried to invalidate my feelings, I would be upset (who wouldn’t?), but I would also realize they were not worth wasting time or energy on. Back when I was bullied, I wasn’t able to do that. Not care. I cared so much about the hurtful things they said, but now I think what’s changed is my confidence, which I’ve built slowly over the years. I’ve come too far to let mean comments tear me down. I hope that’s something everyone who’s bullied or who have been bullied will come to understand. Don’t let others determine your self worth.
I don’t remember exactly the first time I was bullied or what happened, but I do know it got bad in 3rd grade. Pretty much everything I remember about that year is bad. I must’ve been 9 or 10 and I think I was probably at a different level of thought than most of my classmates.
Before I continue, I’d like you to be aware that some of my opinions might differ from yours and that’s totally okay! It won’t bother me that you think something I don’t or vice versa, just as long as everyone here respects each other. If there are hateful comments brought to this blog, that’s when things are not okay. Thankfully, everything’s going well so far!
Anyway, as I was saying, in 3rd grade I was starting to think for myself. Everyone in my class believed in God and I did too. One day, I had this moment that I can still remember and clearly picture in my mind. I was in my room and it just kinda hit me. I didn’t believe in God, or any gods for that matter. I was the only one in my class who did not believe in God (or at least the only one who said something, but most of them seemed to believe) and I don’t remember how it was brought up, but I know I told them I didn’t believe. This is kind of a ridiculous sounding story, but it could have been this one time in a classroom, back when Justin Bieber was more of a new thing. A boy in my class said something about Justin Bieber being gay, and what bothered me about that was mainly that he used it as an insult (um, also I’m pretty sure Bieber’s not gay). I’m actually getting a little angry talking about this because it was just so… stupid? I don’t know if that’s the word, but it’s probably the nicest one I could choose. So I told that kid that there’s nothing wrong with being gay because I do not tolerate “homophobia.” It’s just not okay to hate someone for who they love. I’d like to add that being gay was like taboo at that school, and I think I was told not to discuss it at some point. You could really tell who all the homophobes were, and that happened to be everyone in my class. In fact, back when I used to think the same as them, I think I might have been homophobic. When I actually thought about it and realized there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, I was so confused as to why my classmates thought so. Their views could have changed by now, but at the time it was horrible. So this kid goes, “gay people are sick in the head.” I don’t know why, but whenever they said stuff like that I wold kinda awkwardly smile (maybe because of the stupidity? I don’t know). I mean still, thinking about that phrase leaves me kind of in a ??? state. There was a lot of stuff like that. I think I must’ve asked him why, and we got into the religion thing. Another vivid memory I have is being cornered on the playground by like three people and sort of… interrogated? It was super weird. At another point, I had asked a teacher about evolution and she literally laughed at me and said God created us. (I don’t understand why she couldn’t have said that she thought differently, instead of saying it like it’s the only possible answer) I also remember getting tired of the bullying and trying to force myself to believe. I think that same teacher as well as a classmate were trying to “help” me with that. It kinda just makes me sick. An adult and one of my peers were trying to convert me because I was choosing to live the “wrong” way?
Let’s skip ahead a few years to 6th grade. Over the summer, before 6th started, I legit wrote a letter to one of the main guys who bullied me (that I also had a crush on for some strange reason). I told him how it made me feel and asked him to please not bully me anymore.
And that soon became the worst year of my life.
I was really depressed around this time, would go come crying, cry in my room, scream into pillows, etc. I wanted to know what was so wrong with me. Why did they choose me? I remember when I cried I would speak out loud and ask these questions, then either insult myself or cry more. It was a bad time.
At the beginning of the school year, I was called to the principal’s office because of the letter I sent the bully over the summer. This dude’s mom had not contacted my mother to discuss it, nope. Instead, she gave it to the principal. (Because logic, duh.) I think I was in trouble for that for a little bit, but the worst thing was the end of the year. I had an Instagram account where I would post my opinions as well as vent pics and stuff like “Gay is OK” and “Self Harm Awareness Day.” This stuff was actually sent in by someone(s?) to the principal because the parents had a problem with it. Not really sure why they let their children follow me if it was so bad, and some of the kids did end up blocking me. I mean, sometimes the kids would make fun of me at school for my posts, and one girl actually said “Why do you post [that stuff]? Did you think anyone was gonna like it?” This whole thing made me mad/sad. I liked to look at my classmates Instagrams, and it was kinda weird. Like, how dare act like the victim when you’ve hurt me so bad over the years? I also liked to kinda know what was going on. I think the real reason was because I was so mad, I would see their pictures and in my head think really mean stuff. I don’t remember specifics, but it could have been like “Wow, they’re so stupid,” or “She’s so ugly.” I think it’s normal to have judgments and I wasn’t exactly going around telling everyone all these bad thoughts. What was not normal was that I kept going back to these posts and thinking those thoughts. How could those people do this to me? In addition to all that, it was quite obvious that they talked about me behind my back. Sometimes I wonder if they ever randomly think about me because I get these memories involuntarily. I remember all the people who were mean to me, but I doubt they remember me or how hard they made my life. But back to the posts being brought to the principal. Even a post of mine that was supposed to be funny (it was a brown guinea pig sitting on tinfoil and someone had put a small piece of butter on his back so that he looked like a baked potato) was sent in. I don’t really understand how that’s offensive, but I don’t really understand any of what they did.
Eventually, I was so depressed that I posted a picture of a gun from tumblr (it’s black and white and looks kinda artsy). This is literally a picture you can find by searching “tumblr gun bang” in Google. My caption was “had a bad day at school” with a frowny face. This was directed at myself because I wanted to die so bad. And you know, all that stuff was really hard. At this point I’m so proud I made it through.
You can imagine what my classmates’ parents thought though. A mom sent out an email to all these other moms kinda getting them to group together against me (my mom found out because someone who got the email told her). Those parents tried to get me expelled. I was 12 years old and have never hurt anybody. They acted like I was going to shoot up the school. WTF?
My principal told me I couldn’t come back until I got a note from my therapist (who I had started seeing because of everything) saying that I was “not a threat to myself or others.” Of course, we all knew they didn’t care about me. Otherwise they might have actually done something about the bullying instead of brushing it off the way they did. I was back the next day because my therapist was able to give us the note. I was so angry about everything.
It sucks because I still can feel the rage. I hated them so much and I’ll admit I wanted them to feel as terrible as I did, but I never wanted to do anything to hurt them. The ignorance and the fact that they made my childhood so unbearable just makes me so upset. It’s still something I deal with.
After that, I went to middle school where work piled on and I got behind. After 7th grade, I switched to a therapeutic school. Some drama went down there, but way less interesting than what I was just talking about. After that year (8th), I went back to the school I went to in 7th. That was last year. I managed to stay at that school until March of this year but the work and the stress became too much and I got behind. I was really suicidal those last few months at that school and everyone acted like I wasn’t trying. They couldn’t see or feel how hard I was fighting to just get up everyday, and it’s understandable that it was frustrating for them, but the feeling that no one really got me was horrible. I’ve come really far since then and I’m still improving. I want you to know that you can overcome or make peace with anything negative in your life. It will be okay.
Yep, that’s basically it. Took me a long time to write but I hope that I can help inspire others to get better too. I was in such a bad place and now I’m doing so much better. Anyone can recover.