bull•e

I have been down this road before. I know where it ends. Today will be no different than all of the others before it; they are waiting for me, they will find me. 

I beg my mom not to make me go: Please do not force me into that hell. I beg and plead to be set free, but my pleas are not heard. This is some sort of test of bravery – This some sort of test of building my character – This is some sort of lesson – she says. They say. All of them say the same thing: Go to school, ignore them, you cannot just run away from your problems. And so.

Even the weed doesn’t help anymore. Even the alcohol doesn’t help anymore. The cutting still numbs me a little, but it has lost its strength. The adults have seen my bloody scars, caught me in my mischief, heard some of the secrets I had previously kept hidden … and yet, I am not being heard. Not seen. No one is listening. I even tried to run away. The cops found me, and even they would not hear my pleas. 

I walk through the halls with my head down, but even still I can feel their eyes. I am being dissected  and soon, soon the taunts will start. You know how in the movies, even the loner has a friend? Not me. I have no one. Not one single person to hide beside. I walk alone in a sea of sharks that have decided to hate me with passion. For reasons false and untrue. My days are filled with painful words, shoving, tripping, rumors that are spread with poison. So this is building my character, huh? I am ignoring them (as much as you can ignore being pushed into a desk), but they are not going away. 

There is no rescuing for me. No safety. I have tried everything else, nothing has worked. Maybe what they yell at me in school is true: me dying is the only way out.

That is a tiny excerpt of my high school experience. My heart breaks every single time I hear of another teen committing suicide because I know that darkness & pain so very well. I did not succeed in my quests at dying , and so live another day to fight my battles … but this is the exception to the rule. Not everyone will have that outcome.

There is so much more that I have to say, but I must tread lightly.

My thoughts & love to those victims of pain.

Advertisements

28 thoughts on “bull•e

  1. My heart aches for what you have come through. As an educator, I have heard the old scripts too many times. “everyone goes through it” or “it’s just part of growing up.”. Worse, “sticks and stones.”. You give voice to the reality of bullying and if even one person steps up to help, you have made a great impact. I am sending you thanks and virtual hugs.

  2. You’re doing a wonderful thing, writing about your experiences. I can only hope anyone suffering stumbles upon your wonderful blog! 🙂 It lifts my spirits on an all-too regular basis.

  3. Beauty in the bravery. You took my heart mind and soul on a journey, sweet spirit. Painfully touching. We seem to lose sight of the intensity of these experiences; thank you for striking a nerve that so many others aren’t courageous — or humble — enough to face.

    Honorable, thoughtful, inspiring. Good for you sister.

  4. When I hear of bullying and its effects on people – doesn’t even have to go as far as suicide – I feel the rage boiling by blood. It was that rage that protected me from a lot of bullying, but still I made it to the 10% that DON’T FIND IT AMUSING. Sad to say, though, it builds character. Those who haven’t been chronically bullied are those who bully or abide by the bullies. The second are cowards, the first are big cowards.

  5. Pingback: One Year of Loony « Thoughts of a Lunatic

Thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s