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The name calling, pushing and bullying all started in the last year of primary school all because I was ‘different’. I didn’t care about appearance my hair didn’t need to be perfect, designer clothes had no effect on me I was a tom boy. The only time I showed any interest in boys was when we were climbing trees or playing football.
The girls saw me as an easy target, I had goofy teeth, suffered with mild acne and became very popular with the boys. The boys saw me as one of the boys or so I thought.
Little did I know that the girls were actually very jealous of the friendship I had with the opposite sex.
Starting high school was going to be a new experience I was going to a different school than the bullies who had made my life a misery previous. I hoped and prayed things would be different.
My first day of high school was daunting I had become so petrified of change I knew I needed to be ME. Once again I fell into the same trap becoming friends with the boys I found it so hard to connect with girls I had nothing in common with them. I didn’t care about make up or shopping for clothes.
It didn’t take long for the rumours to start. They would wait for me after school taunting me on the journey home telling me I was ugly, spotty, a freak. They were the mild insults. They would spit at me I once had chewing gum thrown into my hair leaving me no choice but to cut the gum out. Making me more of a freak.
Was it really that wrong I was friends with the boys ?.
At the age of 13 It had all become too much every single day someone had something vicious to say whether it be about my weight, appearance or lifestyle. I started to self harm the only release I knew feeling the cold blade against my warm skin. The release I felt punishing myself for being me. I needed to escape I needed to leave this world. The bullies had destroyed me. I took an overdose to wake up in hospital with my mother at my bed side. My bare skin exposed on my arms. The questions started I had been a victim for 3 years a silent victim. To my knowledge this was the first time my mother had seen my cuts.
I held back afraid to be open I didn’t want to give the bullies more ammunition I didn’t want to be known as a ‘grass’. I stayed silent praying that the bullies would see they had pushed me too far that I was weak and needed their support not their taunts.
I returned to school 3 weeks after my over dose to return back to normality. The girls had made a hate page on the internet about how I couldn’t even take an ovedose that I was a loser and they wouldn’t stop until I had done the ‘job’ properly.
I took an over dose once again this time needing to have my stomach pumped. I pleaded with the doctors begged them to let me die and leave this god for shaken world. Instead they found me ‘Ang’ my guardian angel as I call her now. She was my councillor someone who I turned to and trusted enough to allow into my bubble.
I explained how I didn’t see a place for me in this evil world. Ang changed my prospective on life. She showed me the light and taught me to stand up for myself. I contemplated leaving the school but she made me realize walking away would be what they wanted. I needed to be strong I needed an new look at life.
I remained at school and studied hard I passed my exams with flying colors. It was time to do something for me. I still remained friends with the boys and why shouldn’t I ?
The funniest thing is the people who made my life a misery now want to be my friends.
I’ve shared my story as I want others to know self harming is not the way to go.
