(Trigger warning, eating disorder, self harm, and suicide)
My whole life, I’ve been the optimistic and extroverted girl in my grade who screams to be heard by anyone and everyone.
I love to talk, I love people, I love to help people and interact with others.
My life has been okay. My parents broke up when I was seven, after years of fighting and punching walls and me hiding in my room turning the tv all the way up to drown it out. My stepdad came into the picture a year later. There’s still fighting and screaming, and punching walls and throwing picture frames down the stairs. But my parents love me, and I guess that’s all you can really ask for.
As someone who struggles with being heard at home, I rely on voicing my opinions at school. Yelling out my side until people can finally understand where I come from, which doesn’t happen often. People rely on me. They rely on me to smile and be happy. To laugh so loud that a teacher has to ask me if I’m okay. And I’m fine with living two separate lives. Well, I was.
I met my best friend in fifth grade. Let’s call him Dave. He was obnoxious, egotistical, and rude. But hopefully all of my Grey's Anatomy fans can understand, he was my person.
When the middle of seventh grade hit and Dave decided my constant smile was too much for him to handle, he suddenly stopped being my friend. And my upbeat attitude changed. I missed him more than anything in the world. Braving through middle school without your best friend is one of the toughest things anyone can do, especially if that best friend becomes your bully.
Dave suddenly hated me. He hated my personality. I was too loud and annoying, so I stopped talking. He didn’t like my voice, so I stopped singing. He didn’t like my smile, so I stopped smiling. And he didn’t like my looks. He didn’t like my face, my hair, my eyes. He didn’t like my weight. So I stopped eating.
He took away my happiness with every insult, every glare, every unwanted touch.
I was having panic attacks every day and hiding in the bathroom so I could hyperventilate in peace. I remember hurting so bad on the inside. I didn’t want to see him anymore. I never wanted to go to school again. I wanted it all stop.
At first, it was scratching my wrist with my fingernails, not stopping until there a scab. Then I was using safety pins. I would do it every night because feeling pain on the outside was so much better than hurting on the inside.
He was the first person who saw them, my sleeve fell down as I was putting my hair up. He just stared. It was two months later when I tried to end my life. I texted my best friend, told her I loved her and thanked her, and then I went home and cried. I was grabbing the pills and opening the bottle, so ready for it to be over. For the pain to stop. Until my phone began to ring, and my life was saved. I told my mom about the bullying the following year when Dave slapped my wrist so hard it left welts that were there for a week.
And suddenly, things started to change.
He left me alone. He stopped talking to me, stopped teasing me. I missed him so much, but the feeling of being able to smile without being laughed at was so amazing.
I am a sophomore in high school now. I pig out on junk food, I laugh out loud, I haven’t harmed myself in a year, or had any suicidal thoughts.
I think what most people don’t understand is, words do hurt. A punch leaves a bruise that fades. A broken bone heals. But one word, a word like annoying, or ugly. Those words will stick with you forever.
Today, I’m writing this and trying to remember what it feels like to be so lost and in pain, like nothing will ever get better.
But it has. It has gotten better. My life has changed. I’m not scared to talk because I might be told to shut up, I’m not scared to sing in the hallway anymore.
I’m better. And I’m happier. And although I can never forget the words that have been said to me to make me feel like I am worthless, I can remember one thing.
It gets better. If you’re being bullied, speak up. You are not just a target for your peers, you are a human being.
And I care about you, even if you don’t.