#oh thats another thing. so excited to see the school counseller

[iwakuraz]

"you'll be fine at school you just need to answer people when they talk to you!" yeah sorry its always my fault somehow isn't it

[fcuky0urself]

So, lets go back to the beginning, where it all started, where I started feeing like a worthless human being that was not worth anything to anyone.  The first thing that ever made me hate myself was school and people; resulting in bullies. From the time I started primary school I was shy , awkward and quiet. Sadly, there were a lot of people who took that as me being a stuck up stubborn kid, you see when I was in primary school I was believed to be the rich kid that lives down the road from school. Due to all this bullying, to this day it still scares me to make friends, being around people and I am constantly hearing people talk when they think I am not. Bullying has scared me for life, and to be honest, it shouldn’t even exist.  For the safety of the people involved in these stories the names will be changed, so all the people involved can be protected, not that I know why I am protecting them but you get the gist of the story. I remember the first time I was bullied, it was at Windsor primary school, I was walking around the field after school with a a boy called Sam, now, just imagine this, we weren’t really friends, we only talked and walked places together because our parents pretty much forced us to be friends. My parents kept reminding me to be kind to him because his mother had passed away and his dad kept reminding him that I was the sad lonely girl at school that obviously had some issues because I had no friends. A group of mixed people came up (by mixed people I mean girls and boys, not European and african -american by the way.); they began teasing me, shoving me and calling me a four eyed freak, now that isn’t so much of an insult now that I’m older but damn, that was traumatising as a kid, there’s nothing worse when you’re five years old than to be picked on based on your insecurities.

This wasn’t such a big deal, I went home and cried and that was that, sadly it continued and I kept to myself, it was easier than doing anything about it. There was next to no physical violence about it so the old saying stuck in my head “sticks and stones may break my bones but names can never hurt me” I lived by that mantra growing up, but we’ll get to that shortly.  Fortunately enough my parents decided to move house, to the other side of town - this was so exciting because it meant I got a fresh new start at a school and I could try and be different. I planned on being different, I was already for my first day, when I got there I smiled and tried introducing myself but no one really cared, the hardest part about starting a new school half way through the year is that “friendship groups” had already formed and it appeared as if people were unwilling to let new people in or to even consider being nice to new people. The best day came when another new girl started, approximately two weeks after I started, this was exciting because it looked like she was having the same issues as me, it took me 45 minutes (yes, I remember exactly how long it took) to work up the courage to say Hi to her, and from then on we were friends; until we weren’t. I got a message one day on MSN, Yes MSN going back real old school here and say asked why I had written to another girl in our class about something that I knew nothing about. I tried explaining that I wouldn’t even speak to the other girl because I was terrified of talking to people who I hadn’t already spoken too, but she didn’t seem to care or listen or take any notice of what I was saying. She just blocked me. The next day at school she was hanging out with the same girl who said I had bad -mouthed her and there it started, bullying in the second school. I told my mother, my mother tried sorting it, but it just masked the problem, they started being so discrete about it. And yes, you guessed it. My parents decided to move house again, to the other side of town which meant a new school change, this came as some relief as the bullying at Somerfield Primary school was started to get bad, I had made a friend with a guy, and everyone made the joke that I turned him gay - which he obviously was gay before he even started speaking to me but 7-9 year olds don’t understand that concept, I don’t even think he really knew, looking back now he was, and I found him on Facebook recently, happily with another guy so I’m pleased and proud for him, but I never got a chance to say goodbye, he was sick on my last few days of school and we never kept in contact. to this day I’m still scared to message him incase I was “the forgotten one” - which is usual, we were only friends for a couple weeks or months but yeah anyway. This time round and the third new school before I started I begged my mother not to make me go to school and let me be home-schooled, I begged and pleaded for what feels like 500 years but the answer was always the same. So I decided I was going to keep to myself, do my school work and go home. This is where my emotional downward spiral began, but thats for a different post. There was a boy there in particular, I remember him clearly, not saying I don’t remember every person that bullied me but I remember him clearer than the rest of them, purely because he was the one that caused me to go home with bruises all over my stomach and internal bleeding. I hid it from my parents well, or so I though. My mother guessed as soon as she walked in the door that night, I don’t know if it was the fact that I was crying in my bed, or the fact that I wasn’t able to get off my bed that gave it away but she knew. She took me to the doctors who suggested a counselling place, the counsellors suggested they talk to the school. What a joke that was. The principle kept saying to us that he had sorted it and there was no need for any further action, yet the day I came back to school I got hit again, this time he broke my glasses. I ran to the office and called my mother almost immediately, I was having a panic attack. Never in my life had I had one before but i remember it well. I was hyperventilating, then not breathing and that cycle repeated almost 40 times, I couldn’t speak on the phone so the receptionist at the school took the phone and explained what was going on, that I was having a panic attack. No one knew why I was having a panic attack and so my mum came to school, to see me. She took me home promptly, but yet she still did not know why. I refused to speak for two days to anyone. When it finally came out my mother got the police involved, she was sick and tired of me getting bullied, I was getting sick and tired of being bullied but part of me started thinking something was wrong with me to deserve to be bullied at every school, the common denominator was me, I was the problem. So I kept my mouth shut and did what my mother told me. I finally got my wish, I did six weeks of home schooling because they issued something (can’t remember the name of it to save myself) where this boy couldn’t be more than 500 metres near me. Now sadly the school took his side and told me to go home and my mother collected my school work. Not to to toot my own horn but I finished all that work in one night and spent the rest of the 5 weeks and 6 days watching cartoon, it was the first time I felt good.  Thankfully the day came where I was going to leave primary and intermediate school and move onto my next big adventure, it was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. Oh, who am I kidding, why was I excited. It was …a disaster.