I made an earlier post. You can click it here: http://suicideproject.org/2013/06/200363/
In there, it sounded like everything was great in my life and in my past. I think I should shed some light on that. Everything started when I was five years old.
My grandmother was a terrible woman and I was her latest punching bag. She had done this to my father and was now doing it to me. She would hit me, humiliate me, insult me, and other things as well.
I remember her always calling me trailer trash, no matter what I did or wore. Sometimes, I wasn’t allowed to finish a whole meal because I was ‘too fat’ to keep eating. She would call me a pig if I tried to finish my whole meal. It was horrible. I remember something that has stuck with me for a while.
I was staying over at her house one day. She told me not to answer the phone. Five minutes later, my mom called. I saw the caller ID and automatically picked it up. After I said hi, she snatched the phone from me and talked with her for a while. Then, I was dragged to the kitchen by my shirt.
There, I was yelled at and slapped before being beaten with a wooden spoon. I tried to run but she caught me by my hair. I clawed at the wall, trying to hold myself there so I could escape the hits. She pulled me back and beat me more with the spoon before I ran to the back room and collapsed on the bed, crying.
My five year old cousin came to the doorway of the room and my grandmother was behind him. She said ‘that is what happens to bad people.’
You’re probably wondering why I didn’t tell my mom. Well, I did, after six years of going through all this. I cried it to her while I was on a trip with them and my cousin to Florida. I had used my grandpa’s cell phone to call her and it just all came out. My grandfather told on me and I was dragged to the back room in the condo. She slapped me and yelled at me for telling my mom so called lies.
I haven’t seen her since then. Problem solved, huh? No. It still haunts me. Whenever I think back to it, I feel like it just happened yesterday. I’m even tearing up now as I write this down.
That was the first thing that happened. Just the tip of my ice burg. Then came the bullying.
I transferred to a new school district when I started sixth grade, the worst time to go to a new school with new people. I was stuck with people who had known each other since kindergarten and I was alone. I was vulnerable and preyed on for it. A girl would harass me everyday in class.
She didn’t care what time of day it was, what we were doing, if she wanted to bully me, she did. She would follow me around the cafeteria and the classroom. It got to the point where I was begging my mom to not make me go to school each day. Finally, I told my mom about it all.
You would think I should have just told her when it all happened. Not that easy. The experience with my grandmother had programmed me to not think I was worth of being saved, that I deserved that treatment. Only when I was pushed to the edge did I tell. I had been pushed to the edge and I then told.
The rest of the year was still hard. The whole class ganged up on me, not just her. It’s harder to deal with an entire class rather than just one person. One day, I had a point where I snapped in class. A girl had insulted me and then turned away. I had a newly sharpened pencil stabbed her in the bag with it.
All it did was shock her and the class.
The next year was drama drama drama.
Also, it was when my depression to its first major dip. My thoughts turned to that of killing myself. I told my counselor and all she basically said was to be positive. I was thinking about killing myself while I had depression I was being told to be positive. Fucking stupid thing to say if you ask me.
That same year, the thoughts increased until I had to tell them. I was put on two new medications. They worked for a while and the next year was better for me.
Over the summer, though, things went really down hill. I started having extreme anxiety attacks, just feeling like I was about to die. I also overdosed on half a bottle full of 200mg pills. I was in the hospital two days, lucky my liver hadn’t been damaged.
That school year was good at first. Then, it took a turn for the worst. The bullying started up again and at full force. In my math class, people yelled at me, insulted me, threw things at me (I.e food, paper, pencils, etc.), and I was being harassed again.
This girl was relentless. She threw rocks at me, pencils, stuck gum in my hair, shouted at me, and tried running me down in the gym. I only escaped that because a friend tapped my arm and I jumped away just in time. She ran straight through exactly where I had been standing. If I hadn’t moved, she would have run me down and just run right over me.
Eventually, the school got involved and she was put in another gym class. Then, after a few weeks, she transferred schools as well. Probably her parents doing.
After Spring break, I was back in school and missed the bus to my other campus. I went to the library but the librarian had to go to lunch so I went to the front office. I was sitting in an office chair behind the front desk when a blank spot just happened.
I was told that I fell off the chair, started convulsing, and then didn’t breathe for so long my face turned blue. It stopped just before it was fatal and I relaxed, still unconcious. When I opened my eyes, everything was hazy because my brain was fogged and my glasses had fallen off. I lifted myself up a bit, looked over the desk before laying back down and falling asleep.
Next thing I know, my glasses were being put back on me and I was being loaded into an ambulance via a stretcher. That was incredibly scary and I cried half of the ride to the hospital.
Some cautionary tests were taken, the one that found I had epilepsy being a just in case one. It was taken weeks after the seizure had happened and the seizure brainwaves were still there so it was a pretty severe seizure.
Well, now I had depression and epilepsy to deal with. But it doesn’t stop there.
The next year, I reached my lowest point ever. I fell into the deepest hole I thought possible. Whenever I was close to coming up, I would fall and the whole would be even deeper.
I started to cut myself to distract from the constant pain in me. Everything was overwhelming me and I couldn’t take it. I tried to slit my wrists but nothing happened, the blade wasn’t sharp enough.
I snapped a month before my birthday and went crazy on my mom. I slapped her multiple times and she called the police. I turned into a mad woman, banging and screaming at her bedroom door before it all wore off. I went back upstairs and got in bed only to be awakened later, put in cuffs, and shoved in a police car.
The next day was one of the most unpleasant ones I’ve ever had and that’s saying something.
After that, I was on another steady decline. Things had been going down since sixth grade but so slowly it was hardly noticed. Now, an avalanche had seemed to happen. Something broke off an caused everything to lose control. I tried overdosing again and renewed my efforts in cutting. My mom found out and tried to help me stop.
Another thing happened. I developed a fear of people and leaving my house. Whenever I was around people, I would go into a huge anxiety attack and just break. For two weeks, I was let out of school by my mom since I was literally incapable of going.
She made arrangements for me to go to a treatment center which I did. It was hell at first. I was so traumatized at that point that I couldn’t even leave the nurses station. It was from that to not being able to leave my room. Slowly, I got a bit better and I had more tests on me.
Turns out, I had two more conditions I didn’t know about. Cerebral Disrhythmia. It is a disorder that mixes up your senses and causes problems. Mine was in the limbic system (emotions) and gave me abnormal emotional reactions for things. That was where my anxiety to people had come from.
After a little over 6 weeks, I was taken home. For a while after that, things were amazing. Nothing good ever seems to last for me, though. The bullying returned in a class of mine.
These people insulted me, threw paper at me, food at me, and stuck things to my back. Other people threw paper balls at me from across the room(one person threw paper with their name on it). Then, hey were throwing gummy bears right in my face. That stopped after some weeks.
I also have another disorder. A non-verbal learning disorder. The only difference between that and azberger’s is that I’m not autistic. Read up on azberger’s and you’ll know what I’m talking about.
Well, that’s my story. All of it. All that has happened to me but in a summarized version. Hope I shed some light on my earlier post. :/