by Band Back Together | Jul 16, 2018 | Adult Bullying, Bullying, Childhood Bullying, Coping With Bullying, How To Heal From Being Bullied, Teen Bullying |
Dear Gay/Bi/Curious Teenage Prankster Who Is Being Bullied By Bullshit Bullies,
Chances are, you don’t know me from a hole in the ground. In fact, a hole in the ground may look more familiar than I do, but I am Your Aunt Becky, and while we may not actually be related by blood, I have adopted you along with the rest of the Internet. It’s okay. Don’t worry. When I show up to your house for some family gathering and get rowdy and drunk and sing God Save The Queen, I’ll distract your parents so you can sneak some rum into your eggnog, okay?
Anyway, I hate to bother you with a boring letter since you kids like your text messages but what I have to say is important and I hope that you listen to it. Or parts of it. Tune out what doesn’t matter to you, but please, listen to at least a little bit of it. I may not be particularly smart, but I have lived about twenty different lives, so I’ve picked up some insight along the way.
Your teenage years are not the best years of your life.
What seems like a permanent and dire situation now, the things that make you hurt and ache inside, those things will stay with you, but the hurts and the aches, those subside over time. These are the things that will fortify you. They will strengthen you and they will make you a better person. Eventually.
I know that it seems like there is no other way out, believe me, I’ve felt that way before too. I’m willing to bet that most of the people who are reading this column right now have felt this way at some point as well. Maybe it’s not the same. Maybe we cannot understand precisely how you feel because we are not you. But even when things seem so bleak and so empty, even when all that you feel is a deep chasm of pain, it will pass. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but it will pass.
Things will get better.
Physically, my heart hurts when I see statistics like sexual minority youth are bullied two to three times more than heterosexual youths. In our lifetime, (yes, I am using the royal “our” because I am rightly assuming that you will be around to make fun of my obsession with bacon for a good long while) I would be willing to bet that this number will drop as bullying is taken more seriously by schools and parents alike. Certainly, that does not help you right at this very moment, as you are hurting from the devastating effects of verbal, emotional and even perhaps physical abuse, I know that. Let every unkind word, every insult, every horrible slur thrown at you strengthen your resolve to help the next generation.
You know that you must be part of the change the next generation of children who will grow up to be in your shoes some day. You can and you will.
These are not the best years of your life.
The best years of your life are yet to come. The years ahead of you will be long and they will be beautiful and they will be brimming with love. The suffering that you have withstood at the hands of cruel bullies and those who do not understand you will leave the sorts of scars that may never be visible to anyone but those who know you best. Those silent scars will only serve to help you as you can turn all of your pain and channel it into something greater, something positive. There is a whole world out there beyond your high school, beyond your small-minded town who will welcome you with wide arms, who will love you as you are, and who will accept you simply for being you.
It’s hard to remember all of this, I know, because even now, at age thirty, my high school years winking merrily in my rear view mirror, I struggle to remind myself that it’s not the end of things when I have a bad day. I have to take a breath and remind myself that it’s not going to break me when I’m bullied by someone. The days when I get harassed simply for being me aren’t bad days at all; because they make me stronger. Sometimes, I have to take a step back from the situation, let all of that hatred flung in my face wash over me and and allow it to strengthen my resolve to do more good.
These horrible bleak days are going to make the rest of your life that much better.
I want you to know that somewhere, Your anonymous Aunt Becky is rooting for you, kid, and she loves you dearly. You’ll learn that the world is a good place. High school may not always be, but the world is. I’m sorry that things have to be so hard for you and trust me, if I could take on those bullies, I would do it in a second (don’t doubt me on this). I have a loyal Prankster Army who’d back me up. Bullies are bullshit. No, let me rephrase that: bullies are FUCKING bullshit, and you don’t deserve the suffering they’re causing you.
There’s a big world out here, kid, and we can’t wait to meet you. Please remember that high school is temporary and the rest of your life, well, it’s wide open. We can’t wait to see what you’re going to do with it.
Please, do not give up hope. There is always hope.
If you’d like to talk to someone from the Trevor Project, here is the Phone Number: 866-4-U-TREVOR
And, loves, you know where to find me.
Much Love,
Your Aunt Becky
by Band Back Together | Dec 11, 2015 | Coping With Bullying, Feelings, How To Heal From Being Bullied |
The following is reposted from my Facebook notes because, well, there are other people out there who get treated this way, too. And it’s a bunch of bullshit.
This is me ranting about people. Specific people. The ones who act all, “zomg, we should totally be BFFs!!!” and then don’t fucking talk to you for months. Years. Until it’s convenient for them, or they get bored enough to weed through their friends list. Life happens, I get that. Shit comes up. But damn, people.
Or how about those, “we should chat!” bitches you bump into on occasion who swear up and down they’ll call you/text you/IM you, then don’t? Love those. (That’s /sarcasm, for the me-illiterate.)
I’m starting to feel like that date who gets sugar and spice and everything nice at dinner, a promise of a phone call and second date, then wonders if maybe, just maybe, I gave the wrong number? Shit, did I transpose those last two digits? Did I write my email all illegible? But no, you just decided I wasn’t worth the time of day and conveniently didn’t tell me. A simple, “You’re nifty and shit, but I’m just not that into you.” will suffice. KTHXBAI.
And you know, I act all nonchalant and I-couldn’t-give-a-fuck-if-I-tried. Because breaking down into tears of, “why don’t they like meeeee??” is fucking pathetic and makes me stabby just to think about. But I’m not a goddamn droid there for you to turn on and off when you please.
I do actually have feelings. (GASP! I know. But my doctor swears I have a blood pressure and everything. Totally living, breathing, the nines. Go figure.) I’m a big girl who can handle her share of Dear John letters, but I’d actually like to GET them. Hanging in limbo sucks.
So if you don’t want to braid each others’ hair and make friendship bracelets, I think I’ll recover. Just have the cajones to tell me so, k?
It’s appreciated.
by Band Back Together | Apr 22, 2015 | Bullying, Childhood Bullying, Coping With Bullying, Coping With Depression, How To Heal From Being Bullied, How To Help With Low Self-Esteem, Major Depressive Disorder, Self-Esteem, Teen Depression |
This is her story:
Hi, The Band. I’m a Chinese international student and I’m still trying hard to recover from being bullied in kindergarten.
Back then, I was a shy little girl who was mocked by my classmates; I can still hear their laughter. To make matters worse, my kindergarten teacher was irresponsible (she only cared for children whose parents bribed her). Once, classmates kicked my head in until I bled heavily. The teachers advice? She told me to lie to my family and say that I “fell down accidentally,” clearly my own fault.
The effects of bullying persist. I’ve suppressed my own wants and desires so that I can please others; my family, classmates, and teachers. I was a nice girl, I studied hard, didn’t waste my time on music, pop culture, relationships during my adolescent “rebellion.” I took every word of my family, friends, teachers, and classmates seriously, even when they’d ask me to do something I didn’t want to do. Everyone thumbed on me and nobody thought I was problematic – including me.
I began to notice problems when I was in college: I cannot keep diaries for myself (but I can write for school work). I cannot develop hobbies, enjoy music just for fun, or express myself on social media unless it relates to school work. I don’t have any idols. Anything of my own preferences feels obscure and unimportant. My self esteem is low, I never feel proud of myself.
It’s hard for me to say no to others. I don’t even know what it feels to like fight for myself. I’ve compromised myself many times no matter if I wanted to do it or not (and there are a lot of things I like and dislike). I treat everyone the same, no matter if he/she was cruel to me.
I feel especially uncomfortable when it comes to meeting some outstanding, strong or potential-to-be-bullying peers. All my current friends are somehow weaker than me. While I relate to most of my peers during school, I never contacted them after graduation.
I need to pretend to be exciting to my peers or siblings.
I’ve just recovered from two depressive episodes and begun the long process of healing, empowering, and understanding myself. I repeated “I love you” everyday to myself since last April.
It worked!
I can calmly write for myself. I can express myself on social media. I started to figure out my likes and dislikes. I began to asking my Chinese friends to help if I have concerns about my life. I stopped taking school so seriously so that I can best understand myself and the world. I’ve begun reaching out to help other people who feel weak, depressed, or bullied learn to love themselves. Invigorated, I’ve started to contribute to the development of my discipline in China. I’m comfortable and peaceful being alone doing nothing. While I stay alone here, I’m never lonely.
I have goals now, too! There are a couple of things on my bucket list (traveling, feeling a sense of belonging with my peers, learning to make friends with people who intimidate me) are things I really want but haven’t had acquired yet. I want to fight for myself (when necessary), go to parties and have fun, enjoy music, and attending online or offline community activities.
Life is certainly looking up.
by Band Back Together | Dec 18, 2014 | Anxiety, Bullying, Childhood Bullying, Coping With Bullying, Cyberbullying, Depression, Feelings, Happiness, How To Heal From Being Bullied, How To Help A Loved One Who Self-Injures, Self Injury, Teen Bullying, Teen Self Injury, Therapy |
I was in the third grade when I was given my first labels.
“Whale.” “Fat.”
I hear it now, as I did six years ago.
Still I hear it ringing through my ears, wondering if it is the truth.
Years later I think to myself, do they know how hurtful those words are? Do they know I still think of it? Do they know that every time I look in the mirror, those names, those labels comes to mind, along with many others.
If they do, if they did, would they still have chosen to say that, or would they go back and erase it?
I wonder.
Fast forward three years.
Just starting middle school, a new school, a new beginning, a new life. Right?
Wrong.
With a new school, comes a new bully, new names.
“Bitch.” “Slut.” “Ugly.” “Poodle head.”
The names go on.
And the first time in my life, I feel helpless.
I feel trapped.
Because now, not only were they attacking verbally, but now they attacked through social media.
Helplessly, I admit defeat, and call for help.
Therapy for one year.
It helps.
I stop going.
No more bullies …for now.
One year later.
Half-way through the terrible mix.
Not an adult, but not a kid.
You’re changing in different ways.
Discovering new things about yourself.
Life is great …until they come again.
A new army of bullies ready to take down their first victim.
“Idiot.” “Fat.” “No good.” “Dirty whore.” “Lame.” “Loser.”
Those were the nice ones.
One more year…
Once again, a new year, a new bully
This time it’s worse.
“Thunder Thighs” is the only thing I was called.
One name, twice the pain.
I pull out my razor, to help relieve the mental tension.
Trying to replace mental pain with physical pain.
It works …for a little while.
One year later.
I am now clean.
Going through therapy.
Recently diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety,
This puts a toll on my family.
I try and push through it, as I’ve done for years.
Apparently, I’m a great actress,
Fooling everyone around me that I am happy.
But now, I no longer have to pretend…
I am getting help.
Even though it hurts sometimes…
And those awful memories flood back.
I have self control…
I am seven months clean.
Still with urges, I manage to throw away my razor, and speak up.
With help from my family and friends, I am on the road to recovery.
Because after all, my disorder doesn’t define me.
by Band Back Together | Aug 22, 2014 | Bullying, Coping With Bullying, How To Heal From Being Bullied, Teen Bullying |
Here at The Band, we believe in kicking stigmas to the curb, flinging glitter, and shining a light into the dark.
And now? Your bandmate needs a sounding board.
It’s time to Ask The Band!
I’m still being bullied and telling my parents and teachers didn’t work out that well. My bullies became wiser, and there is no proof to show what they’ve done to me. You can’t prove someone’s words. This has been going on nearly a year. And they influence even more people, day by day. I have avoided talking to them as much as possible, but they’re my classmates. I see them every shitty day, eight hours straight. Even people who don’t know me hate me. (Seriously, people?)
So I made a decision.
I want to transfer to another school after taking my finals. I’m in my 10th grade right now.
But how do I tell my mum? I’m now studying in one of the best all-girls school in town. My parents actually made efforts to send me there. My parents don’t approve of the other school. I can study really well, so either school is the same for me. My school has an excellent academic reputation, but lots of bitches to screw with me.
The other school is a not famous co-ed school, with lots of troublemakers. (Rumors? I don’t know…) My fear is what if I’m still bullied when I’m in my new school?
I’m gonna lay low. I don’t care about my reputation, I just need a calm life.
So, how the hell do I tell my parents? How to convince them? Should I transfer?
I was thinking of getting straight A’s for my finals to convince them, don’t know if I can nail that.
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.
