by Band Back Together | Jul 9, 2014 | Bullying, Childhood Bullying, Fear, How To Heal From Being Bullied, Self-Esteem |
I was 7 years old when they started to bully me. I was only a kid. I don’t understand what I did to them.
At first I would laugh along with them, but soon I realized that those words hurt. Didn’t they see I looked up to them? They hurt me so badly that many times I thought I didn’t deserve to live. I thought it was my fault.
They robbed me of my childhood, I would go to sleep crying, hoping the next day it wouldn’t be as bad. I asked for help, but instead, I was told to “man up.” How is an eight year old suppose to do that? After a few years they finally stopped. I had my friends and family, but I would still felt worthless, like I didn’t matter.
I forgave them, but those scars are still there.
I can still hear all those horrible things they said to me in my head. The only way I survived was that I made myself stop feeling emotions. Things would happen to me in my life, but I would no longer feel them. I talk to my former bullies now as if nothing ever happened, but whenever they look at me, I feel like I’m 7 again, hiding in a corner, scared.
Little by little, I have been able to put myself together again, to start to feel, but those painful memories just don’t go away. Whenever I remember those painful memories all I can ask myself is what did I do to them to make them hate me so much? I was only a kid.
by Band Back Together | Jul 1, 2014 | Bullying, Childhood Bullying, Coping With Bullying, How To Heal From Being Bullied, Teen Bullying |
She came to school with a plastic Disney princess phone, and told everyone it was real. I was the only kid who didn’t believe her – I proved to the entire class that she was lying. She hated me from that day on, and made sure that I knew it.
Soon, it wasn’t just her bullying me, it was practically everyone. Elementary and middle school are, for the most part, a haze of half-memories of name-calling, spitting, and hair pulling.
In fourth grade, I had my first major depressive episode. I was up late into the night, curled in my mother’s lap, sobbing hysterically for no reason I could identify. It was confusing. All I knew was that I was incomprehensibly sad, and the kids at school were mean.
I was in eighth grade when the body image issues, self-loathing and self-injury, came into play. At first it was simple things, like no longer wearing tight clothing and digging my nails into my skin when I was frustrated. I was in ninth grade when the periods of going without food began, and when digging my nails progressed into the slicing of skin.
I was in tenth grade when the next major depressive episode hit. I was missing tons of school but I didn’t care. The world was bleak and pointless. I slept almost constantly. When I was awake, I tried to forget about my life by immersing myself in the life of a fictional character. That, or I was cutting. I felt useless.
As my sophomore year came to an end, I gradually started to feel better. The improving weather lifted my spirits. I chose to go on a community service trip to Peru that summer, thinking I was well enough to go.That is, until I got on the plane. As I walked to my seat, I felt panic rising.
I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t handle going to Peru.
What had I been thinking?
I begged to be let off of the plane, but the trip leader refused. Resigned, I sat in my seat and sobbed. On that flight, my depression began sinking to entirely new levels, worsening impossibly over the next few months. I was very suicidal.
In December, a boy I knew killed himself. It hit me hard. I saw what suicide could do to people, and how much it hurt the loved ones of the deceased. After toying with the idea of suicide, I decided I didn’t want to cause that pain, so I arranged to be hospitalized.
Since January, I have come so far. I put my efforts back into doing schoolwork. I saw my friends again. I rejoined the world of the living. I have learned an immense amount about my self and how to be happy. I’m so grateful to be alive. It’s so worth it.
I know everyone says it, but it’s true – it does get better.
by Band Back Together | Jun 27, 2014 | Anger, Bullying, Childhood Bullying, Coping With Bullying, How To Heal From Being Bullied, Sadness, Teen Bullying |
Have you ever gone to school early to decorate your friend’s locker for her birthday, only have the candy and supplies – the ones you saved up your babysitting money to buy – stolen by some bonehead boys and suddenly, there’s a game of Monkey in the Middle in the halls?
You’re the monkey.
Kids walk by, teachers pass, no one helps you get your stuff back. Moments before your friend arrives, a pretty, popular girl shows up to her locker across the hall and the boys give her the stuff you wanted to give your friend. Your friend finds you sitting teary-eyed in front of her locker with a few meager pieces of candy and streamer shreds to give her, and she gets upset and blames you for ruining her thirteenth birthday.
Have you ever come upon a group of kids who hush as you approach and resume whispering and giggling, pointing at you as you turn down another hallway? You swear you hear your name, so you turn around to give them a good glare you’re are met with raised eyebrows and “What are you looking at, freak?”
Have you ever been assigned to sit next to same pretty, popular girl in class who, when you have to work in pairs, hands you the assignment and instructs you to do all the work while she mocks you? She calls you poor, says you only own one pair of jeans, even though you have many pairs of jeans. When you get eczema on your face partway through the year, she and the cute boy behind you laugh about your “beard.”
Have you ever walking through the cafeteria with your best friend and had kids call out names, insults, and threats? You give them the finger and try not to cry while your best friend stays silent because she’s too afraid to trade her invisible status for yours – the target.
Have you ever been on the bus, chatting with your best friend, when the kid behind you starts making fun of you, calling you fat and stupid? This time, when your friend tells the kid to cut it out, he calls her ugly, says she has a unibrow. You’ve been mocked for years, his insults don’t bother you, but your sweet friend, she was just trying to help you – why would he go after her?
You tell the kid to cut it out. He doesn’t listen. So you punch him in the face. But you’re on the bus, which is school property. He gets is a bruised face and wounded ego while you get two weeks detention.
Have you ever been chosen to give the final book report in class; you’re super excited because it was a great book about bulimia, while everyone else gives book reports on Artemis Fowl and Twilight? You know you’ll be taunted by your classmates so you get to the front of the room, look down at your note cards, look at the class and your teacher, all waiting expectantly. The kids smirk and murmur to each other. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. You can’t speak. The whole class laughs at you but you know they would have laughed harder if you’d given your report so, at least, you escaped that.
Have you ever worn red lipstick to school because it makes your skin look dewy and your eyes look smoldery, and because it’s your birthday and you wanted to do something special? Only when your teacher makes you stand up on your chair so the class can sing happy birthday, your classmates begin to mock you. Your teacher makes no effort to stop them. You escape to the bathroom to find that red isn’t just on your lips, it’s on your underpants and dammit why today? You have to go home early because the cramps are so bad you can’t sit up straight and the red lipstick wouldn’t come all the way off and you look sort of clownish.
Have you ever been in class, minding your own business, when a girl – a friend – someone you’ve known since kindergarten calls you “goth” as if it’s a bad thing? When you point out that your blouse is bright blue with flowered embroidery, she says it doesn’t matter, you wear black every other day – besides, your skirt is navy which is basically black. The boy next to her calls you emo while the boy on your other side says you probably like death metal. You like Hannah Montana and the only reason you wear so much black is because your mom only buys you black clothes because she thinks you like them. You don’t say this, you bark a “shut up” because you’re starting to get angry and you don’t want this to escalate into a full-blown episodes. The teacher scolds you for telling your classmates to shut up and for chatting when you should’ve been working. You just grit your teeth, nod, and apologize.
Have you ever been pulled aside by a close friend to have her tell you that you’re not “cool enough” for her anymore? You two stop talking. A year later, your families got together, which was awkward at first, but then you played together – you thought you had your friend back, but when you waved to her at school, she pretended not to see you.
Have you ever had your only close male friend whom you walk with to and from the bus refuse to sit with you on the bus? He was afraid that the other boys would find out he thought you were a pretty cool person.
Have you ever had a favorite teacher who you adored and looked up to? Have you ever been put into a class with one of the biggest assholes, that teacher, the same one you thought could do no wrong puts you in a group with that jackass? When you talk to this teacher after class, explain that working with the boy causes personal conflicts, she says she can’t do anything about it – which is bullshit you choose to believe.
One day, that boy gets you all worked up, making it impossible for your group to accomplish anything because he’s making faces and interjecting rude comments whenever you suggest something for the assignment and finally, you blow up. You’ve learned that anger is a better response than sadness – tears provide the bullies with too much satisfaction. Your teacher, witness to the whole thing, comes over, and you think “thank god, she’s getting rid of him. We can finally get some work done.” But instead, she pulls you aside and tells you that your reaction was inappropriate; she expects poor behavior from him but not from you.
Like that makes any sense.
Have you ever had boys spread rumors that they were dating you because you were the “pretty pariah?” Then, kids come up to you and ask if you’re dating what’s-his-face and you say no, you’ve never spoken to him. You think they’re talking about that kid but you aren’t sure; you really don’t know him. And the kid asking you about it says that the boy has been telling everyone that you’re going out. And another kid comes up to you; he heard you broke up with what’s-his-face for so-and-so and half the grade thinks you’re dating a different short, fat kid. You think about it and you can see why they’d believe it.
These boys, were you dating, could help with your social standing, but you’re 11 and don’t have any interest in dating so you tell the kids that you’re not dating either boy and they leave you alone, now uninterested in you.
Have you ever been made to sit in art class with several of your tormentors, while they all ask you questions – why you’re so weird, why do you cut yourself, what made go goth?
You’re not even goth.
You’re so angry that you can’t form a coherent response there are a million things you could say but if you bothered, they’d turn it around on you. So you cut the construction paper roughly while they laugh at your agitation. When finally take a swing at one of them, they give you a dumb nickname – Swiper the Fox from that kids show Dora. The teacher thinks it’s cute but really, they’re mocking you.
Have you ever had a nickname that made no sense, but everyone called you that like it was a dirty word, the way your grandfather says things like “liberals” and “feminism?” So you walk down the halls and boys whistle at you like you’re an animal, while the girls hold up their hands to signal “STOP” just like in that Dora cartoon. One boy doesn’t just say the name; no, he calls out the song – “Swiper no swiping, Swiper no swiping, Swiper no swiping!” You see red and tackle him to the ground. A teacher pulls you off. You’re in trouble for being violent and he gets a warning for the bullying. You don’t know why your kind of mean is worse than his – wounds you inflict heal, but the bullying has left emotional scars that never fade.
Have you ever had a teacher call you morbid in front of the whole class because you wrote a journal entry about your cat dying? The same teacher who, just days before, said his favorite play is Macbeth. You’re the morbid one? How does that work?
Have you ever come home from a day where any, all of these things happened, and you just wanted to fall into your mother’s arms and sob, but you’re in middle school now, you’re a big girl, and like Fergie said, big girls don’t cry, and besides, Mom doesn’t have time? Your little brother has another ear infection, she has to pick up your sister, the baby has been crying all day, she doesn’t know what to do so she really can’t listen to you whine about your life. She has a husband who’s never home, four young children, bills to pay, a house to keep clean, errands to run, and a dissertation to write.
Have you ever felt you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, but your problems were too petty to discuss? You should suck it up and get over it; the mean things other kids say shouldn’t bother you, you’re not important enough anyway.
After all, the only person who listens is your psychiatrist, and you don’t even like him – he’s paid to listen to you, it isn’t genuine.
by Band Back Together | Apr 4, 2014 | Bullying, Childhood Bullying, Coping With Bullying, Gynecomastia, How To Heal From Being Bullied, Teen Bullying |
I began developing man boobs in seventh grade.
At first, I didn’t take much notice because I thought they would probably vanish as I entered puberty.
I got bullied all the time at school. Kids would touch my boobs and they would make fun of me. At first I became quite stressed. I didn’t know how to react because I was embarrassed due to my sexuality.
I couldn’t tell my parents because that would further create problems since I am from an eastern background.
I started exercising and going to the gym, and in my ninth grade year, I lost 10 kilograms. Despite all the effort, my boobs became more prominent.
Now I am in college, and I still get bullied by people all the time. They touch my boobs when they want to irritate me. To them, it might seem as all in fun, but it is quite painful for me.
Any suggestions on how to deal with this will be highly appreciated.
Thanks
by Band Back Together | Apr 1, 2014 | Childhood Bullying, Coping With Bullying, Forgiveness, How To Heal From Being Bullied, Loneliness, Parent Loss, Self-Esteem |
Hi, I found your web site yesterday and decided it is time to seek friends who understand me and what I went through.
I was bullied in third grade on up to graduation. I talk to friends about it and they tell me I need to forgive the bullies. I have, but the pain resurfaces at times. Sometimes, I cry and just feel so alone and sad.
I had friends until the middle of third grade. One day, we were out on the playground, and all the girls in my class got around me. They pushed me, and I couldn’t get away. After that day, I had no girl friends in my class. The boys were always nice to me. My parents went to the bullies’ houses and talked with the parents, but they all still treated me differently from that day on.
In fifth grade, I went out for basketball where I met a bully on the other team. She hated me. She was there again in sixth grade, still hating me. In seventh grade I was put in her same section because they ran out of room in the higher section. What a sad reason to put someone where it would be scary. No one from my elementary school was in my section. I was alone with the tough kids, and I was scared to death. I found out later, that girl and some others were doing drugs.
In ninth grade, my daddy died, and I was even more alone. One night, I couldn’t breathe. Mom called the ambulance. I was taken to the hospital, where I was diagnosed with allergies and a cold. As I think back, I wonder if it was a panic attack.
In tenth grade, my entire English class was busted for drugs, except me. I never did drugs.
In high school, I finally started making friends, but I had to be careful. I didn’t want to get too close to one friend because she was loose. I didn’t need her reputation adding to my problems. I met another friend in summer school. She had been picked on too, but we didn’t have the same classes.
After I turned 16 and learned to drive, I learned to square dance. I always wanted to learn how. The other people there were older then me, and became parents and grandparents to me. I finally felt accepted.
I identify with Joseph in the Bible. What people meant as harm to him, God turned around for good. God always kept me safe and protected. If it weren’t for the situation I was in, who knows what trouble I could have gotten in. I have forgiven my bullies, but the pain and scars are still there, and will always be there. Sometimes the loneliness gets so great, I just sit and cry.
I have a wonderful hubby, sons, and mom, and I know they don’t understand me. I have been reading about triggers, and how they can take you right back to a bad situation. That is what I have been dealing with for the past two days. I have been crying a lot. After a church meeting last year, I asked to sit down with some ladies. One of them old me it was a private conversation, which triggered me right back to feeling like being left out in school. I ended up leaving that church because it was too painful and brought up too many triggers.
I love people, being around them and talking to them. I went to broadcasting school, and it brought me out of my shyness. Mom says that was priceless. I was once told that I was treated the way I was because the kids thought I was a snob. It made me laugh because it was just the opposite. I wasn’t a snob, just extremely shy with low self-esteem.
Thanks for listening, God bless.
by Band Back Together | Jan 31, 2014 | Bullying, Childhood Bullying, Coping With Bullying, Coping With Depression, Depression, Fear, Guilt, How To Heal From Being Bullied, Major Depressive Disorder, Psychological Manipulation, Rape/Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, Teen Bullying |
When I was in about 4th grade my friend would tell me all these sexual things. One night this person was over my house and they fingered me. I didn’t know what it was. This person manipulated me into thinking it was okay. I touched this person back. And it went on and on. This person would touch me a lot. And I would do it back.
I didn’t know any better. All I knew was it felt good. This person told me to never tell my parents or anyone else.
I’m still scarred by it. It distorted my childhood. It changed me. It made me do things I didn’t want to do. I can’t help but feel guilty. I mean 4th grade? It makes me feel so gross. I’ve never even kissed anyone.
In middle school, since I felt ugly, I jumped at any chance to show off my boobs to get some sort of positive attention from boys, and of course, I did. Sometimes it went too far. It made me cry, but it was better than being called ugly.
One time a boy touched my front-side in the hallway. He said if I told anyone he would get his sister to beat me up, so I kept quiet. Another time a boy shoved me against a locker and had his hands around my neck. He threatened me, but I don’t remember why.
Riding the bus was the worst because while they were calling me ugly, they were touching me or pushing me on the floor of the bus.
One time I was the park with my best friend and a few boys who bullied me. (Why did they bully me? I don’t know.) We were playing soccer. My old friend Melinda was there. They respected her, so they left her alone. But they would circle me and smack my butt, poke me with sticks in the front area, my boobs, and my butt. I liked the attention, but I also hated it. I told them to stop, but they wouldn’t. Two of the boys walked me home (not sure why) and one of them smacked my butt. A 30 or 40 year old man saw him do it. He yelled, “Oh yeah, smack that!” It scared me so much! I was furious! I yelled, “Fuck you!”
They told me if he came back to rape me they would leave.
I’ve had multiple experiences with grown men making me very uncomfortable. I get looked up and down. I see the lust in their eyes, and it really frightens me.
I have a friend who I love very dearly. But he can be very abusive. He’s very “hands on.” He touches my butt and my boobs every so often. But when he’s mad, he literally hurts me. He pulls wresting moves on me or chokes me for a few seconds. To him it’s a joke. To me, it’s scary, and it hurts.
One time I was locked in a room with him and he pushed me down, and he was standing over me. It sounds ridiculous but I was still scared. We are best friends, I just wish he wouldn’t take things so far sometimes.
All these events make me fear men a lot. I have a lot of anxiety and guilt from these events and I’m still not over them. I honesty think I have depression from all the bullying and harassment.
