Maybe Now You Will Listen ?

My name is.. doesn't matter..does it?

You can say my story starts the same way as many others because it does and they always do.I grew up with no friends from 5-13 i only had my parents,through out this time i was always reminded by both of them how alone i was which only made me drown more sorrows more." Why don't you go out" or it was " where are your friends" my dad in particular was the main parent to inflict pressure at this point,in my eyes i believed he was disappointed,he and my mother had both hoped they would bare a daughter who would be smiling and smutherd by a million other little princess.My sister Jasmine is two years younger then me and is everything any parent could hope though i know half of the time she creeps towards my father because she craves attention but at the end of the day she receives it by both parents and her army of princess fairys.

During this time period of 5-13 i was bullied everyday.Underneath my nose i have a mole that is about the size of a small pencil sharpener and i have always loathed it.Crying myself to sleep because i knew no matter how much i hoped and planned for surgery that my parents would only listen ( or pretend ) and do nothing about it.Sometimes it felt like my mole was death meaning something that i couldn't stop or control and it used to make me cry and cry while i tried to sleep or wake my sister up,most nights i had to cover my mouth or smuther my face in a pillow to stop myself from being heard.One day on a plane to my mothers home place Ireland she casually turned to me and said from out of the blue " You know we should get that off" I was never so hurt in my life,my mother always knew i was ugly and had just told me and in that moment i desperately tried not to spark into rage and cry in front of her and the others around us so i just stayed silent.It makes me feel even worse when my sister is named 'model' and 'beautiful' by every single person on the planet,and my older sister Claire who has ocean blue eyes and blonde hair is also named those words i long to hear..when i sit next to the two of them i look disgusting..pathetic, even the word ugly is to kind.

As you can imagine when i started secondary school the bulling only got worse.People called me every name from under the sun " freak" or " Fat mole monster" there was a point where i spent almost six months spending every lunch and break in the toilets,with nothing more then music to keep me company.I was even pushed and shoved a few times by a couple of girls who loathed me because i wasn't decent enough to look at.My parents always came into the school and ended the bullying battles but it only made things worse for me at school as people knew i had no one but my parents to hide behind.At the age of fourteen i made my first attempt as suicide.I took a knife from downstairs and stared at my wrist for hours,crying to myself but nearly feeling a slight happiness overtake me as i knew that in a few slashes i could be free and would no longer feel pain.I made a few marks that bled and in all honesty it felt brilliant because it was a different form of pain that i had been experiencing for the last two years it was a stinging numbness that felt amazing.

That was the year my parents decided that they no longer loved each other which i was glad about since they mostly argued.Jasmine cried for months and begged for them to get back together,I didn't care at first because it did not affect me but it started to hit me,my home life was unbearable and school started to get worse.I had two friends at this time who both decided they would sacrifice me to join another group of girls and become popular,they all as a group made lies about me,and bullied me until they watched me crumble.This was when i made my second attempt at suicide but still no one saw it and no one cared it was like i was fine and happy because even my parents did not know it was happening under there own roof.The rest of year 9 into 10 was lonely,teachers said they understood and that they would give me help but all they did was sit me in a room with twenty other ignored children and made us sit together and discuss how pathetic we where.I never shared my story and kept to myself.

By the time i reached the age of fifteen i began to drink a lot.Instead of using my lunch money i would hold back the three-four pound i was given to the end of the week where i would stand outside shops until an clearly older person would by me different bottles of liquid.After that i would go to the park,or back home(when no one was in) and drink as if it was water.Four months down the line of doing this nearly every day and night my hands began to shake as they longed for a drink and my eyes carried dark circles which showed no sleep.One day i went into school for my first lesson though before i had consumed a couple of glasses out of depression.The teacher could smell it on me i could see the look on his face and for a second i was happy because finally someone would see and know that i was hurting but he ignored me to,he ignored the fact that my breath reeked of wine and beer brands and let me into his classroom without another word.

During the end of year 10/11 i made some good friend,a group in fact.There all good people but they don't understand me,they mock me and always remind me of my drinking habits and joke about it in my face as if its funny and controllable,they don't know what it's like.The boys in the group never look at me and only at Abbie H and Abbie J which i can understand for Abbie J as she makes quiet a show of herself and is very clear on what she wants and what she other words (****) but as for Abbie H she is a pretty girl with new growing confidence but never likes to hug me or touch me like the other girls.I think this is because she thinks i'm gay which is just stupid,it makes me sad and both angry that she and the other Abbie always leave me in the dark when we are together.They even tell me that i am not a sexy person and always find ways to insult my looks or personality.I feel like a outcast with my group of friend..i feel disgusting..ugly so ******* ugly,it gives me muse to tear my fingernails into my wrist(which i have done).In short words they dont respect me at all they see me as a*******..child i'm just a basket case but they don't see that they probably think i am a attention seeker or a liar because they never seem to remember things i ever tell them..they don't care,my parents don't care even since they can't remember anything.

When i told my mum that i had a drinking problem she called me a liar and that was the end of that.My dad just gave me a sad look and that was that.Pathetic!.Where is my help..dose it not make them make or cry with there hands covering there mouths that there daughter loathes herself to a point where she cant stand to be alive or to a point where she will drink herself to's not enough because apparently i'm a liar.Since then i have made another attempt though this one was much more violent with a sharper knife.I screamed and attacked my wrist until it dripped onto my carpet and even then it wasn't enough i wanted to burn.

All i have ever wanted is to be loved by my parents in a way so they will listen and hear when i say that i am not happy.I want friends who respect me and understand that i am not a joke and what i have been through it not a joke either.I am so alone it hurts and its almost every day im either drinking or cutting..or both and i can't stop until someone listens.

Will you listen?
whocaresaboutmyname whocaresaboutmyname
18-21, F
Dec 12, 2012