Do you ever wake up feeling like today is going to be another bad day? Thinking that nothing will change, that it will just be this daily routine of negative thoughts and feelings in Your head? Well maybe you do, maybe you don’t. But me…well this is only just the frosting to the cake.
all My life I’ve felt like i don’t belong anywhere i go. Whether it is family, school friends, outside of school friends, sporting teams, swimming squad, whatever. Ive always felt this sense of isolation and separation from the others. At first, when I was 5, it didn’t matter to me, I just kept life going since at that point I was actually happy, smiling where ever I went. As I grew older, when the bullying started to grab upon my throat, i start to question my position in the world. Sometimes I would racially abused, or even teased because of my appearance. Calling me ugly was most common. I never really cried because I was brought up to be strong, brave and resistant to anything that would harm me. My parents taught me that..but even then, they were dark times in that family as I never lived as a normal child. I was never allowed anywhere, not even to a friends house across the street. I use to be hit by either my mum and dad for whenever I’d bad bad things or even mistakes I would make within my own little circle in my room. I was never encouraged when I played sports. My dad especially would always pick out the bad things I did in a specific event and always neglect the things I excelled in. I could honestly say my childhood was bad….but it got worse.
as I started high school, aged 13, I had high hopes that everything would be better. That the bullying and the constant chaos at home would stop. Well it sorta did. Things at home wasn’t as bad as back then but the bullying never stopped… The identities that were labelled on me back then, still dragged onto that different path of my life. Academically , i was getting better! Man I was so pleased. Â Getting multiple A’s in most of my subjects! The most I’ve ever received!…but it still wasn’t good enough to my parents..it still wasn’t appreciated on my efforts. That really killed me inside a lot. So yeah, year 7 to year 8 were the “best” years of my life so far. Yeah…just wait
at the start of the new year, 2011, Id had some freedom within my social life. I made more friends, had my first girlfriend (only lasted a month though), I was a little confident. But that year was one of the worst. It was it those holidays that changed my life forever. It was in those holidays that would make me who I am. It was those holidays that would make me write this post in the first place.
I had this friend. She was my best friend. Her name was Lauren. She was the most amazing person I knew and still to this day. She was going through a bad time during the holidays, probably worse than me ever. She’d use cut herself every night for her own losses. In those holidays, I use to always just take care of her, spend time with her; watch movies, play games etc. one day….I couldnt take the pressure anymore. I told her that I wanted to hang with my friends. She said it was fine. I asked her repeatedly if she was going to be okay. She said yes…. so then, later that day, I get a phone call, a sad voice whispers in my ear. She died. I remember I was in the car, balling my eyes out, having no idea what to do. The worse part was that I get a dozen of phone calls from her friends saying its my fault, you shouldnt of been there, why did you leave??! Then…my whole heart just dropped. I was so sad, depressed, angry at myself that I began to change. Something id thought I’d never do. I began to cut myself every night, cry myself to sleep. I was so scared. I didn’t even want to go to school because of how upset I was. But I just had to. I had no choice.
it was that year where I began to hang out with new friends. People who have similar adversities to mine. I thought I connected with them so well. And I did..at the time. I started to change. I changed hair style, changed the way I act, changed my music tasted. But those changes lead to more ways the bullies could pick me up on. I was called emo. Because of all the scars I had and the way I looked. I was called emo. In my head, I was thinking why?! I thought I could just try and become more accepted into society but I didn’t. Everything just went shit. I began to rebel at school, didn’t even care about life anymore, starting smoking cigarettes anywhere I was and I even did drugs.. At the time I thought this would help me get happier but it just made worse as a person. As more problems went on, I couldn’t cope anymore, I tried to commit suicide, it was the worst and especially when my parents saw the scars on me one day, they went off their head. At first they didn’t understand at all. They thought I was a freak.. But as they learned more about it, they began to understand. I use to see so many people from counsellors to psychologists to psychiatrist. Nothing worked. Even the following year saw me do the same things. Just smoked up, rebelled and just didn’t give a rat’s ass.
It wasn’t until last year, from last suicide attempt that I really wanted to change my ways. I really wanted to be happy again instead of faking it all the time. I really wanted me back. Not this imposter. I quit drugs and i tried to cut back on smoking and for a while it was going good. But now, writing this post, I feel like I’m going backwards into that old path. Because of everything I done, all of those damaging things, brought me into those thoughts. That sense of belonging. My questions of who i am and whether or not I want to be here. These voices in my head seem to not go away. Telling me to give up and die. To end right here. You’re worthless and ugly. All of these things is what I deal with to this day
this is my story ( a brief of it)
to those who took the time to read my story, I thank you. I know it was probably a mission but I just needed to share my story. I just want you to understand. not judge. I also want to warn yous not take substances that may harm you and you think it’s going to make you feel better. It doesn’t. Please stay strong to those who are going through struggles.
you are not alone.
3 comments
My thoughts are with you.
Your story made me remember the shock jocks at school, the first cigarette in the woods that became 35 years of cartons, ashtrays, lighters, and wasted money before I stopped. I’ve given up on the idea of “changing”, as if we human beings were made of silly putty that can be molded to suit any desired template. It’s always someone else who thinks they know better who sets these standards for everyone else, anyhow.
But I guess it is possible to learn to do certain things that need to be done, and not do things that shouldn’t be done. I wish you success at this.
I was bullied as a kid. by older kids at school and even by some “friends.” I could never tell it to anyone…not my parents or someone at school. so I built a wall around myself. and because of tat shell I think im socially retarted. I can’t make even a simple conversation without goin red or fumbling. I can’t do normal emotional expressions. my relationships also ended coz of this reason. I dnt think the scars ever go away. but u can stop being haunted by these memories if u share them wit even one person.