I have been down this road before. I know where it ends. Today will be no different than all of the others before it; they are waiting for me, they will find me. 

I beg my mom not to make me go: Please do not force me into that hell. I beg and plead to be set free, but my pleas are not heard. This is some sort of test of bravery – This some sort of test of building my character – This is some sort of lesson – she says. They say. All of them say the same thing: Go to school, ignore them, you cannot just run away from your problems. And so.

Even the weed doesn’t help anymore. Even the alcohol doesn’t help anymore. The cutting still numbs me a little, but it has lost its strength. The adults have seen my bloody scars, caught me in my mischief, heard some of the secrets I had previously kept hidden … and yet, I am not being heard. Not seen. No one is listening. I even tried to run away. The cops found me, and even they would not hear my pleas. 

I walk through the halls with my head down, but even still I can feel their eyes. I am being dissected  and soon, soon the taunts will start. You know how in the movies, even the loner has a friend? Not me. I have no one. Not one single person to hide beside. I walk alone in a sea of sharks that have decided to hate me with passion. For reasons false and untrue. My days are filled with painful words, shoving, tripping, rumors that are spread with poison. So this is building my character, huh? I am ignoring them (as much as you can ignore being pushed into a desk), but they are not going away. 

There is no rescuing for me. No safety. I have tried everything else, nothing has worked. Maybe what they yell at me in school is true: me dying is the only way out.

That is a tiny excerpt of my high school experience. My heart breaks every single time I hear of another teen committing suicide because I know that darkness & pain so very well. I did not succeed in my multiple quests at dying , and so live another day to fight my battles … but this is the exception to the rule. Not everyone will have that outcome.

I am not searching for pity; I do not want it. My bullying experience ended 6 years ago, I am over that mountain.

I am searching for change; I am sharing my story. Because it is my responsibility. Some will not be able to say 6 years have passed. I won’t say “it gets better”; I will say “it will pass.”

Some thoughts:

  • I don’t think that it’s bullying alone that causes the attempting/committing suicide, for there are bullied people that get through it in one piece. The catastrophic difference is the underlying mental issues that causes the bullying to become unbearably emphasized.
  • I’d like to make clear that I did once believe that all of the adults in my life were out to get me (as apparent in my old journal entries), but I no longer think that way. That excerpt is from the viewpoint of my teenage self. As a child/teen, the adults have the power. If you feel betrayed, let down, or unheard by them then it is easy to begin to think of them as your enemy. This is detrimental to understand (and should never be insulted) because it is a key part of bridging the gap in relationships.
  •  Bullying has been around forever, it is easy for people to think it is a phase that will pass in their children’s life. And sometimes it does. But sometimes it doesn’t. The gamble is just too high to roll the dice here.
  • Another thing, the responsibility. We cannot place the blame or responsibility on one thing alone (ie teachers, schools, parents, etc) – this must be a team effort!

There is so much more that I have to say, but I must tread lightly.

My thoughts & love to those victims of pain.

About these ads