Emily bullied in her own words
Bullied in her own words:Hi I’m Emily. ( @anas_littke_puppet )So, my story started in Kindergarten, when this kid who was twice my size(and he knew it) decided to make fun of me. He shoved me around and called me names like fatty, stupid, ugly, and idiot. He told me I’d never be smart, that I wasn’t talented. But the thing that hurt most was when he told me I’d never be good enough, despite my straight A’s in all my subjects and running super fast. It continued on into first grade, where he got more violent.
He threatened me that if I told anyone that he would kill me before continuing with the usual list of names. By this point, I believed him. I believed that I wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t pretty enough, and just wasn’t worth it and for the fist time in my life I considered suicide as an escape. I hated myself and everybody else seemed to too.
In second grade, nothing changed much. No one cared. Third grade (if you’ll excuse my language) was hell on earth for me. My teacher blamed me. She snarled at me constantly and then would turn around and with a sweet as sugar tone ask what another one of my peers wanted. She made it VERY clear that I was not her favorite. She gave me homework she knew I couldn’t complete, she moved me to the edge of the room (where I actually liked it believe it or not), and with all this fear I experienced I developed panic attacks, often in the morning.
I would run away from my peers screaming. I would try faking being sick in the morning but, it never worked. My parents never received any calls from the school (who didn’t care) so, they assumed everything was fine and I was a Liar. This continued for the school year. And considering as long as I had been reporting incidences, you would assume they had done something about it. Called my parents, at least suspended the bully. But they didn’t care. Still don’t. Fourth Grade was my miracle year. My teacher was nice and fair to everyone. When she found out about the bullying in her classroom, she pushed the principal to do something, but my school principal refused.
Fifth Grade was again, hell on earth. My teacher mocked me, gave me homework above my grade level, etc. thinking it was funny and that I needed to lighten up. By this point, I never looked anyone in the eye, rarely spoke above a whisper and such, despite now being second tallest in school or something like that.
The entire school had turned against me as well. Though my original bully had left at the end of fourth grade, I later found out that he wouldn’t have had much contact with me any way since, he would have been in a different room with a different teacher. But a new little bee with an itch made her way into my life spreading nasty rumors about me expanding the list of names I was called by at least double if not more and of course, this was the year that I was diagnosed with ADD, or Attention Deficit Disorder.
My only relief was my friends at school. About halfway through the year they found me alone and crying for the first time in years. They were my first friends ever. EVER. I thought it was crazy, after all, who could love a broken girl but, they teamed up with me and didn’t back down. Eventually, we parted ways and went to middle school where I am now. I’m still picked on there. I’ve been picked on by my science teachers, my peers, etc. My depression subsided a bit in sixth grade but, made a huge comeback in seventh where the bullying worsened.
And now I’m here. I’m entering eighth grade with hopes for a good year this year, because I don’t have much left. Am I still depressed? Yes. Am I still suicidal? Yes. But I do have one thing. And that’s hope.