#and after getting ugliest a fourth time the school starts to take pity on her and tries to make her win homecoming queen

[theriverdalereviewer]

just finished reading this book called the list by siobhan vivian and you know what I recommend even though I found the ending to be lackluster

[labsvvskalsbd]

Kids Can Be Cruel

Here I sat, thinking to deep once again about my life. At first it started as to how I started to identify myself as an ace, but things lead on as I started to remember more and more of my childhood. It dawned on me that my childhood... is what developed my depression. I never had a real traumatic childhood of growing up on the streets, or having my parents abandon me, or even child abuse. It was nothing like that. I grew up with my mom and dad, who are still together. I lived in a home that would keep us warm in the winter and cool in the summer. I had food to eat and clothes to wear. It was never my home life that really affected me until I was much older (but that's for a different story). I think... no. What I KNOW developed my depression at such a young age was school. I will admit that as a child, I was pretty ugly. Not to mention fat too. I had wild, unkept hair. A fat face that was framed with gross looking glasses, and I wore clothes that my dad picked out for me (which, by the way, my dad isn't exactly the best with fashion). But! I did have a good heart. It wasn't exactly the best thing to have a good heart, though. Sure, I was very nice and I always forgave and forgot type of thing, but I was naive. Very, very naive. I was always alone through kindergarten till 2nd grade because of how shy I was. (I was so shy that I wet myself once because I was too scared to ask the teacher to go to the restroom). So, I came off as the weird, quiet kid during those ages. Since I had no friends, I would just swing on the swing set alone, letting my imagination take off until the end of recess. Third grade is when I started to gain weight rapidly, and my eye sight went bad, so I got glasses. Then people REALLY started to avoid me. Not only was a weird, shy girl, but now I was the weird, shy girl who was fat AND ugly. I became a total outcast. Since I was a very naive, and good spirited person, I never thought that people didn't like me because of how I looked, I thought it was because they thought I was weird. For so long I tried so so hard to be their friend. I would let them narrow my stuff whenever they asked. I would give them answers to the homework, and I'd even let them keep some of my favorite toys (even though it made me really sad to give them away), all because I thought they would be my friend for it. They we're only using me, and I had no idea. I thought that because I was being so nice, they were my friends afterwards because I gave them my stuff. Turns out, that they would only say 'thank you' before never talking to me again until they wanted something else. But to me, they were my friend because they always came to me for stuff!! Of course, things only got worse as the years went on. Fourth grade I got even fatter and was still ugly. (This was probably one of my worst years because they no longer had a swing set for me to swing on, so I'd just sit by myself, looking weird). At least with a swing set, it didn't look so bad by myself because swings were fun. But now, I truly understood I was alone. I also began to realize that only the teachers were nice to me. Since I'm older now, it's because they knew I was a good person, but took pity on me because they also knew I was a huge outcast. Almost everyday since third grade, I would come home crying because I was so frustrated that no one wanted to be my friend and I was still alone. My parents were so heartbroken to see me cry so much because of my lack of friends. I even came up with schemes and ideas that might help me make friends. I joined the softball team because everyone liked people in sports. I was okay at it. I sucked at running because I was fat, but I had a lot of strength, so when I wasn't too afraid to hit the ball, I'd get it pretty decent. Of course, softball didn't work, so I quit because the girls on my team were mean to me too. I thought, "Well, maybe it's my shoes! Everyone has these new shoes! So maybe if I wear them, they'll like me batter!!" I'd run to my parents and beg for the shoes, and they'd cave in. So when I showed up the next day in my new shoes, I was so upset that no one was any nicer to me. I'd come home crying, something that was very common at that point if time because the kids were now calling me names instead of the normal isolation. One time in third grade, we went to a roller rink and it was a snowball dance (lady's choice). I watched as everyone happily skated together with all of their crushes, and I went to a boy who was standing alone. I finally convinced with to skate with me and I was so happy!! I skated with someone!!! But later that night, I was slapped in the face by cold, hard reality when somebody told me that the boy I skated with was being bullied.... because of me. He skated with me out of pity, now he was being bullied for skating with a loser like myself. Of course, I cried. As fifth grade rolled around, it was easily the peak of ugliness for me. There was no doubt about it. I was one of the ugliest girls in school. I used to cry and feel sad all those other years, but now I just got angry. I was looking for any excuse I could to fight someone (of course I never actually did because I wasn't a fighter.... at all. I would cry if I actually hurt someone). The teasing was so bad that boys would come over to swing set and call my 'hippo' and whatnot, so I'd get mad and chase them. As I look back now, I realized that it was all a sick joke.... a sick joke to get me mad enough to chase them, so they could laugh at how slow I was when I ran.... After that day at school, I came home, threw my backpack down and started to cry my whole heart out in the living room. My parents ran over and asked what was wrong and I just put my hands in the air in a defeated and helpless manner and cried, explaining what the boys did. I told them how confused and frustrated I was at nobody being my friend, how I tried everything to fit in, how I was nothing but nice to them.... but they still didn't like me. I found out many years later that on that day, my dad went to his room and cried because he knew I was a good person, and he just wanted to kill all those kids who made me feel so broken and lonely.... sometimes I wish he told me that sooner.... One day in fifth grade, a boy named Bowen moved to my school and he became my locker buddy. When I first him, he was so nice to me. He said hello to me in the morning, he asked how my day was when he'd see me, he always got me to laugh.... of course, he was that way with everyone, but ME????? He was nice to ME too????? It completely blew me away. I ended up falling in love with him. (After a few years, I realized he was a douche, but until then? He was pretty much Jesus to me). I always contemplated whether it was love or not, but now, I know for sure. Bowen was my very first love.... all because he treated me like I was a person.... Everyday, I just fell more and more in love with him every time he asked how my day was, or what I even ate for lunch. It's just really depressing to think about now. How could a child be so broken and desperate for kindness that she falls in love with the very-first-ever person to do it?? It only makes it worse to remember that I was only 9 at the time. 6th grade is when I finally started to slim down. Turns out, all that fat was from me starting to get a growth spurt (which very much shows now as I'm very tall). I also got contacts so that way I didn't have to wear my glasses anymore. Long and behold, suddenly everyone is nicer to me. I didn't know why everyone liked me better now, but I assumed it was because they finally realized that I'm a good person!! And I'm not as weird as they thought I was!! (It was very hard for me to remember those feelings of thinking they realized I was a kind soul, because now, I know it was all because of how I looked that they hated me....). I think it was 6th grade when my depression unknowingly took its root. It only get worse and worse as 7th grade chugged along. Hell, I lost 30 more pounds at that time. I thought it was because I was trying in gym, but now I know it was because my depression took my appetite. At the end of 7th grade, I felt my depression sink in. I was so hard to bare. The constant feeling of loneliness, sadness, and just the fear of becoming fat again was enough to make me have a meltdown in the middle of one of my classes. Things never changed after that. My depression got worse, I lost more and more weight as time went on, and I isolated myself from my family, since they always seems to irk me for no reason. It got so bad that even on simple car rides to Walmart, I wanted to cry out and scream, begging for someone to help me, but I stayed quiet. It wasn't until eighth grade that I finally got help. I dragged myself to the counselor's office and just sat down, letting everything go. My counselor was very surprise, to say the least. I was a great student and always seems happy, so for me to pull myself all the way to her office and suddenly drop a huge load on her really confused her. She made me take a depression test, I scored 117 on it. 60 was the number people scored that needed help..... I had extreme severe depression. She was so relived, yet surprised to find out that I've never self harmed. Of course, I got help and visited her until we finally told my parents, I got on medication for it, and I saw an amazing woman name Tylene to help me with my depression. (She even has this cute Golden Doodle named Spencer!!). Now, I stand above my bathroom sink, staring into the mirror as tears flowed, remembering all of these awful memories. These memories have made me cry so much, even to this day. But, I am proud. I am proud at how far I've come, but sad to think that such a young child had to put up with that.... I'm afraid to love now because of Bowen (who made me realize that I only loved him for showing me basic human kindness). I'm afraid to feel so alone again, I hold all of my friends very near and dear to my heart. But most importantly, I have grown from my naiveness, and I've matured very fast. So yeah,,, kids are mean. Kids are so mean that they can make another kid go into extreme depression with their words and stares. They can make another child feel so helpless that thoughts of suicide echo in their minds, years from now. Kids are so mean, they could break another child so badly, they're afraid to fall in love because it might just be their mind tricking them, into thinking basic human kindness is love. So yeah. Kids can be cruel.... but what can we do, huh?