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by FDQ
Rated: 13+ · Non-fiction · Emotional · #1321890
A little bit of my life, showing how destructive the result of mocking in school can be
*This is my attempt to relief myself from all my bad memories and let go of the experiences I’ve been through in my short lifetime. I cried almost all the way through this whole thing. It’s not an attempt to gain sympathy! I don’t need any more negative comments.*


I used to be a happy child. I remember playing in pre-school and kindergarten with all my friends. Some I was very close with, particularly one girl who I would always spend time with. Everyday, we were together either at her place or at mine.

We played with dolls, watched cartoons. We had been best friends since we were born. Our mother’s were co-workers and we were born with one day between us. We were like siblings. At least that’s how I remember it.

I didn’t really consider my self as a quiet child. I could play alone in my room with barely anything as long as I had my imagination. However, I could easily play with other children too, even the ones I didn’t know.

Never in my wildest imagination did I believe my life would become what it is today.

I suppose it all started when it was time to begin in school. I wasn’t particularly scared at all. I loved the first year of school. It was like one long play. Except for a few small incidents, but every kid has to deal with them. First time being sent to the principle’s office; first arguing in class with another kid. Small things that really doesn’t matter.

As the time passed by and we all started in first grade, I remember it all changing drastically. A new girl joined class and she was a lot older than the rest of us. She was already maturing and basically all the other girls were admiring her.

At that point it seemed as if the class was split in three separate groups. The boys, the girls and of course the outcasts who no one were really interested in. Guess where I ended? Yeah, the outcasts.

From what I’ve understood, that was the point of where my life began going down hill. I felt left out and alone. I was forced to watch my closest childhood friend forget me for a new kid. Everything we had was suddenly gone. To this day, I still wonder how it happened so fast.

One day I had friends, the next I was alone.

It’s over ten years ago but the memories are still so clear in my mind.

I wasn’t exactly the class weirdo at that time. I wore normal girly clothes; dresses and all. I didn’t try to stand out or get attention in any way. I just wanted to have someone to spend my time with as I had always done. However, it was hard for me to bond with the other outcasts. All three of them lived in a different town, so I only saw them during class.

Every time I would ask my mom if I could bring one of them home, she wouldn’t allow me to. I was never allowed to bring home friends. Those rare times I did, she was always so angry and moody, the other kids quickly left again.

So one would think I could just go with them home. No, I wasn’t allowed to do that either.

And all the kids who lived in my own town, only blocks from my own home, they didn’t care about me at all. I was beginning to feel alone.

In second grade, a new boy had moved to town and he was considered a weirdo because he had red hair and his older brother was known as a troublemaker. Nobody liked the two boys, but I didn’t care if they were weirdos. I was considered one myself anyway.

I bonded with the redheaded boy quickly. We were friends as if we had known each other forever. We used to hang out all the time in school and I would run away with him in the middle of class to an old deserted building where we’d just be all crazy and have fun. Be ourselves.

I would even go so far to say, he was my childhood boyfriend. I do remember we kissed, but of course, we were only eight years or so, so it was all innocent and cute, like little children did back then.

Since he came from a troubled family, he didn’t stay there for very long. I think, less than a year later, his family moved to a new town and it was time to say goodbye. Another friend had left my life.

It was all back to normal again. I never had anyone to hang out with. Those times I did, it was with some kids no one else wanted to play with. Eventually, I just started being by myself. At least I wouldn’t be left again. I didn’t want more friends to leave me.

As I got a little older I finally started to bond with the remaining two of the outcast kids in my class. One had already left for a new school where he already had found new friends. So now we were three left.

We were basically the three losers. I had low self-confidence and my parents never bought new clothes for me, so I was the dorky type. The other two girls were the redneck and the troublemaker, so we made up a pretty good little group. Again, I mainly hung out with them in school. Rarely afterwards.

I never really understood why my mom wouldn’t let me hang out with other kids. I just had my sister. And as siblings do, we always fought with each other. My sister always the one winning. She was the complete opposite of me, so she had the confidence to be the top dog.

And somehow, people always preferred her over me. She was skinny, tall and confident. Unlike me who was kinda big and shy.

I hit puberty at an early age, completely ruining the last part of my childhood. Suddenly experiencing all those new things accompanied with my shyness and low confidence, I began disliking myself more and more. I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror. I didn’t care about myself, completely letting myself go.

I refused to participate in gym class, showering in school, reading aloud from books and everything else that had something to do with talking and showing myself.

I had always felt a little different from everyone else, but after this I changed into a whole different person. I was this tough girl with the black clothes and the taste for hard music and pro wrestling, but beneath all that I hated it all. I was scared everyday. I feared to humiliate myself in school in front of other people so I avoiding doing anything.

I listened to music in my Discman all the way to school every day in an attempt to ignore everything that was happening around me. I couldn’t ignore it though, but I could pretend I did.

I saw the looks everyone had when I walked by them. I heard them whisper about me. I saw them point at me. I heard them yell after me and calling me names. Only God knows how many names I’ve been called. All of which hurt equally.

I was hiding behind my tough surface, but I was really fragile on the inside. I would often cry when I came home from school. Sometimes in the morning before as well. There were those few times were I broke down in school, unable to hold back my tears.

There were times I think back on in high school with a smile. Our little outcast group used to sit all alone in a storage room, telling short stories that we would make up as we sat there. It often ended with the wackiest things you could possibly imagine. I seemed to have found some hidden talent of mine.

As a kid I had used my imagination often, so I was able to use if for making up stories. I was decent when it came to writing as well, so I gave it a shot and started writing what I would hope to become a book someday. I wrote every single day. My friend, Katja, the redneck girl was even eager to read more of my writings.

We hung out often to write on the story and I was having a good time. In the end of sixth grade, she changed school. She was tired of being mocked by all the others. I actually tried to switch school too, applying to the same school as her. They didn’t accept me.

High school to me was the worst time of my life. I would sit in class with fourteen other people who I had gone to school with for over 7 years and I would feel completely alone. I would often just sit and look out of the window, dreaming of how the rest of the world would be like.

I was dedicating all my time and energy on the music bands I liked and the wrestlers I looked up to. Most of my classmates found it to be odd. I was the only one who could pick out a favorite band. Apparently that was considered weird back then in Denmark.

Still, everyday I was called names and kids picked on me. I was unable to fight back because of my low confidence and fear of making a fool out of myself. I just never considered that I was already the joke at that point.

I was gaining weight quickly. I refused to do sports since I was scared of falling or hurting someone. I didn’t eat during the day because I was worried people would think I was disgusting.

I ate once a day and that was dinner in the evening. Due to that and lack of exercise, I was not only the freak of the class, but also considered the fatso. My life just seemed to descent even more into the dirt.

My grades were horrible as well. I never turned in papers or said anything because of my fear and I never studied. I didn’t believe that I could do the assignments anyway, so why bother to do it? On top of that, I absolutely sucked at mathematics. And having teachers who don’t really care about you don’t help at all.

I remember telling my teacher about the kids mocking me every day. Her answer? “Well, you can just look normal then” well, thanks for the support. I refused to change myself to be accepted.

The past 3 years of high school didn’t get any better at all. Every week I had days where I simply refused to go to school. My mom didn’t understand what was going on, all she saw was this girl crying in her bed, not wanting to get up in the morning.

She finally figured out the reason why I wanted to stay home and she contacted the school to get the mocking to stop. It did. I no longer heard names and stupid comments about me. But their eyes still said the very same things.

I had been told so many times throughout my life that I was stupid, ugly, fat and worthless. I started believing what I heard. I began literally hating myself.

Ninth grade was almost over and it was time for the final exams before the graduation. Surprisingly, I did a very good job at the exams, except math. I left high school with A’s and B’s only and a D in math. For the brief minute after I received my A’s, I actually felt as if I might have had some talent anyway.

I would come out to the other guys and they’d ask what I got. After telling them my grade, their reaction was basically “Ok…” and then that was over. It confirmed how I felt earlier. I wasn’t anything after all. They didn’t care even when I did well.

I left high school with no good memories. No reasons to keep in touch with the others.

I thought college was gonna save me from my troubles. I was wrong. I lasted three weeks before I had to give up. I couldn’t stand being there. I felt as if I didn’t belong there. As if I didn’t matter.

I took an extra year in high school on a new school, which was not as terrible as expected, but definitely not a dance on roses.

The school counselor there, however, had noticed something was not right with me. I was sent to the school shrink to talk. They figured I just had low self confidence and I just needed to gain a little more confidence.

It didn’t help me or change anything. I still hated what I saw in the mirror and I still feared being among other people.

After the final year, I tried with college again. This time it lasted 2 days. I left in tears after being called disgusting and a monster. Both of which happened within five minutes. I didn’t wanna stay at a school where they already treated me like that after two days.

I didn’t want to give up. I wanted my college degree as the first person in my entire family ever. I tried two more times in different places before giving up in the end.

My parents weren’t very supportive of me either. My mom constantly told me I wouldn’t make it anyway. Wasn’t any help. I needed someone to stand by me and guide me along, not another person to tear me down.

I turned eighteen and was officially an adult. I didn’t have a job. I had tried but had felt so uncomfortable I couldn’t handle it. I had completely given up on my life. I had let go of my hopes and dreams. I had nothing left to life for except the music I listened to and the wrestlers I watched on television. Not much of a life for a young woman.

I was sent to meet with social security about sending me to a random job without getting paid. The man I met with was actually the person who discovered what my problem really was. He told me had worked with mentally ill people before and he was completely sure that I either had depression or social angst, if not both.

He advised me to go see a doctor about it and so I did. I was sent along to a psychiatrist once again. He did some tests and it turned out I had severe social angst. He was in shock I had even tried to start college that many times. Telling me it was net to impossible for someone like me to function in the real world.

The social angst was the reason why I had such a terrible time in school, why I had no friends, no confidence, no job and no boyfriend.

Social angst is a phobia. It’s just like being scared of spiders, snakes and heights. Only difference is, what you’re scared of is public humiliation. You avoid every situation that could result in public humiliation. Talking to strangers, talking to family members, having a job, going to school, eating in public, using public facilities and the list goes on and on.

Imagine how it feels to have obsessive thoughts about how other people see you. Do they like you, do they think you’re ugly, do they laugh at you. That’s how I constantly feel. Every day, every time I’m outside my home.

I feel as if I’m not good enough for the world. Sometimes I even feel like I don’t deserve to be here. I want to die, but I deserve to stay and suffer. I’ve convinced my self I’m a stupid and horrible person. I was taught that for so many years. It’s a long hard road to unlearn all that again.

When I walk on the street I’m always conscious about what I do and what I say. When I see someone look at me, I automatically believe they think negative of me. I hear people laugh and I believe it’s me their laughing at.

I cry at night in hopes of everything to end, falling asleep with teary eyes, wishing to never wake up. But I always wake up in the morning.

I’ve wanted to end my own life, but I don’t have the courage to do so. I’ve harmed myself in an attempt to erase the mental pain I felt. It was no use for me. Every time I cut myself, the pain would go away. But it would always come back again. I couldn’t escape it. It was haunting me, day and night.

I’ve never felt loved and never had anyone to love. I’m not even sure how to do it. I’m scared. I don’t want my life to be like this until I die. I’m twenty-one years old today and nothing has changed since high school, except that I’m even more alone and further down today than ever.

I haven’t heard from anyone from my school ever since. I only kept in touch with Katja. We seem to be the same. I just wish I had some of her strength to overcome my fear.

I still have no dreams for my future. Right now, I see no future for myself. My family is still treating me like the black sheep.

I can’t even be around my grandparents without feeling worthless. For some reason, my parents never told anyone about my angst. I don’t have the courage to tell it on my own. I feel so alone, not knowing what to do or where to go.

I’ve seen several counselors, shrinks and even sexologists to help me, but nothing has helped so far. I feel like I’m on the brink of giving up.

I have no one to fight for. It’s like I’m standing in a crowd, screaming for help at the top of my lungs but nobody wants to help. No one gives a damn.

Crying every day, just waiting for an end is not a life worth living. I just wish someone would help me. I have no one. I am no one. I’m tired of crying and screaming for help. I’m tired of being alone. But it seems as if I’m destined to be.

I wonder if I’ll ever be healthy. I want to be able to walk the streets and be happy. I want to talk to people and hang out with friends and have fun. I wanna have a family of my own someday. I want to find the man of my dreams and have children. I wanna grow old and have my grandchildren come visit me.

I long to love someone, but I can find no one.

I wanna be able to look at myself and like what I see.

But for now, it remains nothing but a long lost dream.
© Copyright 2007 FDQ (fdq666roadie at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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