The Story Of My School Days. (warning: Long Story Ahead!)

But I want to vent it all out. This has taken me almost three hours to write, so it's going to be long. I am absolutely terrified of people and what they might think of me. I'm extremely skittish and paranoid, and I seldom talk to people unless they talk to me (in which case I'll simply respond with a "hello" and awkwardly look around). I know people probably wonder why I act so weird. I never like talking about it because I start to cry when I do, but I'll go ahead and say why I think so lowly of myself.

In elementary school, I had some issues with depression and weight, but I was still ok with myself, even if I was a little quirky. I would sing karaoke at this little Greek restaurant every Saturday, I liked talking to new people, I viewed myself as very intelligent... All in all, I was fine with myself, even with my weight problem.

It all changed in middle school (this is the part I don't like talking about). I was pretty nervous about being around so many different kids to begin with. It immediately turned into a nightmare. I remember kids throwing food at me in the cafeteria and calling me a whale. They would punch me on the way to class. People would laugh at me because of how fat I was, and call me an ugly b****. Nobody wanted to be seen around me.

My worst memory was one day, on the way to class, a bunch of guys gathered around me in a circle and started pointing at me and laughing, calling me a cow and a fattie. I tried to run away, but they circled me in. I starting to cry and begged them to stop, but they kept laughing and calling me names. Finally, I fell down, curled up in a ball and started screaming and banging my head against the floor. They were still laughing at me, and no teacher was around for any of it.

Another crucial moment that defined my view of myself was when a teacher WAS around. We were on a bus, on the way back from a field trip. I was sitting right across from one of the guys that would make fun of me and hit me. He was talking to another girl, when he turned around and handed me an empty plastic Sprite bottle. He bent his head down so his afro was facing toward me and told me to hit him with it. I had so much hatred for that guy that I wanted to take out, but I was too afraid. He and that girl kept telling me to, so I finally hit him on the head with it. (not hard. I just 'bonked' him, I guess.) Right when I did that, he started acting angry, snatched the bottle away from me and began smacking me in the face with it. Everybody on the bus was laughing and singing the "Hit That B**** With a Bottle", like they'd all planned it or something. The teacher was only two seats behind me, but after he told her that I hit him, I was suspended, even AFTER I explained everything. From that moment, I suddenly felt like everything was my fault, and it was that moment when it was finally planted into my brain that I was a completely and utter loser.

It got to the point where I was too scared to go to class. Some days I would go hide myself in the bathroom until the school day was over. I would randomly break out crying in class and at home every day. I just wanted to die. I remember screaming at my mom how much I hated her, and writing how much I hated everything on my wall in Sharpie. I was officially convinced that everybody was out to get me, and they hated me because I was so fat.

I really, really wanted to change that image fast. I knew losing weight would take too long, so I decided I was going to take a different path. I started to do really crazy things, like eat chalk in front of the class and slam a textbook into my face. I would rather people think of me as "that psycho girl" than "that fat girl". It got to the point where I would bang my head against the wall whenever the guys that would make fun of me walked by. I didn't want people to hate me anymore. I kept telling people how ugly and fat I was, because I didn't want them to beat me up anymore. I did it for them. For a while, those guys thought it was funny, but pretty soon it started to creep them out. It seemed to be working.

The only problem: the few smart kids that I was around who DIDN'T tease me for the way I looked had also now been convinced that I was nuts. I remember all the popular girls stayed away from me. One guy called me "that lesbian psycho *****" in class one time (which made me run out of the class crying. And I'm not a lesbian). Fortunately, I had a few friends who were able to see past the mask I was putting on and would talk to me. Even though they weren't good friends, they thought I was funny and clever (I'll admit: I have a weird personality by nature). I still had that bad reputation, though. When the end of the 7th grade rolled by, I had turned into "that fat psycho girl" again. And that "mask" I had put on had now morphed with my face.

My mom kept sending me to therapy, but it didn't work. I was pretty much permanently screwed up. I was convinced that everybody hated me, and the people who talked to me only did it because they felt sorry for me because I was so fat and ugly. I would look into the mirror and punch myself until I bled, calling myself a fat c**t and tell myself I deserved to die. I whipped my thigh with a belt until I cried. I no longer wanted to lose weight, because I now hated EVERYTHING about myself. Losing weight wouldn't change that. I would scream at my mom and tell her how much I hated her. I only had 3 actual "friends", and I would be mean to them all the time (looking back on it, I regret not feeling more grateful that they stuck with me for all those years). Deep down, I wanted people to hate me. I wanted them to think I was a bad person, because I knew I was a bad person.

Middle school ended, and I found out all three of my friends were moving to a private school. I would go into high school all alone. When the first day rolled around, I was absolutely terrified. I didn't want anybody to beat me up or make fun of me, so I simply didn't talk to anyone. Fortunately, nobody messed with me that often (occasionally somebody would yell or throw something at me from far away, but it wasn't as bad as middle school). Unlike middle school, classes were now based around difficulty of the material, so I finally would no longer have to be stuck with all the kids that used to mess with me. On top of that, most of the people I was around were completely new. I finally had the opportunity to ditch my entire "crazy fat girl" reputation, lose weight, and be happy.

However, I still couldn't let go of everything that had happened in the previous three years. I was completely convinced that everybody hated me, and didn't want me to talk to them, so that's exactly what I did. I made myself into a recluse. I would sit in the corner and doodle in my notebook. I sat at a lunch table alone. I never went to any parties or hung out with any kids. I thought I was doing everybody a favor by not talking to them. I knew they thought I was a loser, and they were probably thankful that they didn't have to deal with such a hideous freak. Contact with my friends began to fade, until I eventually had only one friend that I had met through group therapy (she was committed to a mental hospital for three years at the end of the 9th grade, so I never got to see her).

My social life wasn't the only thing my hatred was affecting. I had an English teacher in the 10th grade that I really loved (as a person). So did the other kids. He was probably the best person I've ever met (I still miss him). He was the only person I could talk to about my problems. We would sometimes talk during lunch or after school about random stuff. Most of the time teachers/students avoided or approached me with caution because of how quiet or ugly I was, but not him. He talked to me like a person. I had finally found somebody I could trust. After realizing how few friends I had, I was scared he might start to hate me too. I still hated everything about myself, and that included my writing. Suddenly, I stopped turning in my papers because I was so afraid that he would see my writing and think I was stupid. That was the only class I ever failed (with a 33...)

Even though I was always silent and self-conscious, there was one thing I liked to do. Perform (contradictory, I know). Whether it was with my trumpet, singing, or acting, I was no longer "that creepy quiet girl" everybody thought I was. I was a trumpeter, or an extra in Pippin. When I was on the stage, it was the one moment where I could forget about myself and everything I hated and be in a state of bliss. Hearing applause was the greatest sound on earth, because for that one brief moment, I knew people liked me. I started to crave that feeling. I suddenly wanted to be the best, because it was the only time I could truly feel happy. I had to be perfect, because I finally had people liking me for something.

Even though those moments where I sounded great made me happy, they made me miserable in the long run. Whenever I made a mistake in an audition, performance, conversation, etc., I would punish myself. I would go home and say vile, horrible things about myself. I would look in the mirror and tell myself I was a worthless piece of trash that deserved to be slaughtered, then pull my blade out and make huge gashes across my stomach. Then I'd put the blood on my hands and rub it all over my face so I would be humiliated. It gave me a feeling of satisfaction, like justice was being served.

In the 11th grade, I was lower than ever. I was SO upset when I got my SAT scores (1270, or 1920 if you include writing.) The other kids in my class had gotten 2000+. I wasn't good enough. I had another Lit class (different teacher). I had grown to be self-conscious about all of my writing, and now I didn't want anybody reading it. If it even had a single flaw, they would think I was stupid. My stepfather was also dealing with cancer at that time, so I was really stressed out. I started to fail that class, too. By the end of November, my grade was a 21.

I sat down and reflected on it. I remembered how disappointed my 10th grade English teacher was when I failed his class. How ironic: I'm sure he was far more disappointed in me for failing than he would have been if I turned in a crappy paper. Hating myself had made one of the only people who truly cared about me think lowly of me. I finally made myself suck it up and try to turn it around, so I turned in all my papers. I passed that class with a C.

I was finally going to try to change. I auditioned for two school plays, and got decent roles in both of them. In one of them, I even got a solo. I was still very quiet and reclusive in class, but I made an effort to respond when people said hello. My self-esteem was still extremely low and I would regularly cut myself (it had grown into an addiction), but I was no longer going to school for myself. I was doing it because I didn't want the few people who cared for me to be disappointed.

Finally, my senior year came along. I found out that my teacher in the 10th grade was teaching the AP Lit class for the 2nd semester. I had heard horror stories from other kids about how ridiculously hard his class was, but I didn't care. This was my last chance to prove to him that I COULD do it. I was finally changing. I could talk to other kids, and I was making new friends. Some people invited me to join their ultimate frisbee team. I actually started HANGING OUT with a girl after school, which was new to me. I started to cut less and less. I was doing o-k in my classes. Hell, I even joined a GYM and started to lose weight!

When the second semester rolled along, I was ready. For the first month, I turned in all the work on time. I found out I'd been accepted into the college I'd always wanted to go to. Then, the feeling started coming back again. "This writing is AWFUL! It would be better if you don't turn it in and get a 0 than if you DID turn it in and get a 25. At least he wouldn't think you were stupid."

I stopped doing the work in his class. I was doing fine in my math class (which I've always been bad at), band was satisfying (even though I was upset about losing my 1st chair spot), and I'd gotten a decent role in my school musical with 2 solos. However, he was still the person I respected the most. I was doing so well proving myself to everybody else, so he was the last person I wanted to view me as stupid.

All throughout the semester, he would pull me aside and tell me that my work was late. I would always make up some lame excuse and say it was coming, when in reality I was too scared to turn it in. Even though I didn't want to admit it, I still hated myself. I was just in denial.

Finally, the end of the year was drawing near. I had a 30 in his class. If I didn't pass, I wouldn't be able to graduate AND I wouldn't be able to attend the college I'd been accepted into. My parents and friends would be disappointed in me. Even worse: my teacher would be disappointed in me. He knew that I was taking his class just to prove to him I could do it, and I didn't want that all to go to waste. FINALLY, I did it. I worked my *** off for the last two weeks, and turned in every paper that I owed. Do you know what grade I got on my thesis? The one I quickly whipped up in 2 days while studying for 3 AP exams? A 91. I was shocked. When I asked him if he did it just so I could pass, he told me no. It was truly a decent paper (and he's the most honest guy I've ever known).

I remember the last time I talked to him. It was the last day of school. He told me how much I've changed and how proud he was of me. I told him he was the most influential person I'd ever met, and he helped me realize that hating myself was going to get me nowhere. I think it was then that I stopped hating myself. I was finally proud of myself. I'd lost 20 lbs in 2 months, I was graduating, I was going to my dream college, I'd made some friends, etc. I was finally happy.

Now, quite a bit has changed since then (but that's a WHOOOOOOOLE different story). I've gained a lot of that weight back, and my self-esteem is still very low. I'm a lot more stable than I was at the start of high school, though. Even though I'll slip back and cut myself occasionally (probably once every 2-3 months), I'm a lot better about it. I start college and move into my dorm in January. We'll just see what happens from there.

Still, no matter how much better things get, everything that happened in middle school will always stay with me. Deep down, I always have a little voice telling me that I'm a whale and a psycho b****. Whenever it talks to me, it sounds like those kids in middle school. Even though I may not hate myself, that part of me does. That will never, ever go away.

HOLY GUACAMOLE, THAT WAS LONG. If you're still awake by now, I applaud you. Anyway, that's the end of my story. I've just been writing whatever comes to mind for the past three hours, so it was pretty scrambled. Good night.
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8 Responses Dec 11, 2011

In a way I feel just like you, but I'm also a polar opposite. I was bullied in elementary school, which I guess was enough to traumatize me a little. I feared going to school, and hated everyone. I almost thought I was a loser, but instead I decided to be better than everyone else. That lead to a hellish decade of me working my *** off, desperately trying to prove that I was smarter and more talented than anyone else. It didn't work. I got very good at painting, and writing, and things like that. None of it made me feel better about myself though. It only made me feel like everyone was my enemy. Combine that with the bullying and complete lack of friends, and I thought people only existed to hurt me. I got undiagnosed social anxiety, and I'm still not comfortable around people. I lost my appetite because of depression, and stayed below 110 pounds for most of my life (130 now). I actually like that part of it. I just don't remember to eat more than once (sometimes twice) each day. Near the end of high school I started to crack. I was winning art awards and such, but my mental state was deteriorating and my grades were dropping. I barely missed high honors, which was a blow since I considered myself a failure even more after that. Over the summer I totally broke down trying to hold a job. My social anxiety was terrible, and it turned my life into a nightmare. I couldn't look at anyone, and I was shaking almost constantly and crying myself to sleep most nights. I could barely function from that job. Without a break, I went from the job right into my first semester of college. I thought I'd pick up from where I left off in high school, but that wasn't the case. I didn't realize how much I'd gone downhill from my social anxiety and depression over the summer. I started failing classes and withdrawing from them, and it still wasn't enough. I was still crying myself to sleep and miserable, but now there was another dimension to it. I really started to feel how alone I was, because when I started to fall there was nobody willing to catch me. I'd never had a girlfriend, or anything close. I didn't even have friends. Before I'd been fine alone, but at that point I realized that everything was pointless for me without someone to love. In the last three weeks of the semester I started talking to a girl online. It wasn't intimate, and it wasn't necessarily what I wanted, but just having a friend to accept me allowed me to regain some confidence. I finished the semester, but only passed one class out of the original six. I did bring my gpa up enough to avoid suspension. Shortly thereafter, the girl I mentioned just stopped replying to me. I don't know why, I just know it hurt. I took the vestiges of my self esteem and signed up for more classes, and that's what I'm doing now. Desperately hoping to find love and pass my classes, regardless of my social anxiety and an almost complete lack of self esteem.

I was a 320-pound target in high school, although I eventually lost weight while there.
...You are a worthwhile person, no matter your size.


First off, what's your first name? Wow, that is a lot of stuff for an 18-21 year older to be carrying around! Your self-esteem has practically been reduced to zero, but you are far from any of these things that others have been saying about your over the years. Why do people say these things? Because they are jealous, they get bullied on in school, by their family and friends, et cetera. When I look at your profile pic I see an ordinary person who looks just like anyone else. A person who has dreams, goals, aspirations just like everyone else. I went to an AA meeting a long time ago, and this guy there said, "Don't let anybody rent your head for free!" Do you know what that means? Don't let anyone put stuff in your brain. Don't let them get to you, mentally and emotionally. Ve proud of yourself, and who you are. If someone disses you, just let it roll off your back like water off a ducks behind. If you want to gain your self-esteem hang out with positive people you like and people that like you. Forget the bullies, and the negative people, they'll only drag you down. Exercise, eat right, whateve,r if you think you have to, but do it for yourself and nobody else. You're still young, you have your whole life ahead of you. So start living it, because if you don't, than all of those meanies will have won. Don't give them that chance anymore!

Damn.. I thought I had it pretty rough in school, but what you went through makes me feel like I should be stronger and stop feeling so sorry for myself.. I'm not even sure what to say.. I'm sorry you had to suffer so much.. I still haven't managed to write about my bad experiences with school, I can relate to so much of what you said, but my comment might actually end up longer than your story if I pointed it all out individually.. I'll just have to write about it myself soon, I've just been putting it off because it'll be so long and unpleasant to reflect on.. It's pretty difficult for me to write without feeling like I sound stupid, writing about something unpleasant just makes it more difficult, it's even harder to be satisfied with my writing when I'm writing about how much of a loser I am.. After reading your story I just feel like I have no excuse to not write mine, especially if it might help someone like your story helped me.

I was about to click the rate up button but something stopped me. I dont want to rate up this story..what does that even mean...rate up..<br />
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Your middle school experience resonates with me. I was bullied, was called an outcast, was shunned from pretty much everything and there were days when I wanted to cease to exist. They were immature things I was bullied about but I remember seriously contemplating suicide on multiple occasions. Worse part was the people who bullied me, when they needed help, I would let them walk all over me. But once middle school was over I took control. I had to let go of some of me, things changed and I became a normal kid. In fact once I left my boarding school, in junior and senior year I rose to become the most popular kid on the block. Even in college now it is pretty much the same.<br />
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Why am I telling you this? Because people like us have it in us all along to be the best kind of people around. You experiences have left you stronger and with more understanding of this world. You are not ugly because you have gone through all of this but more beautiful. You know how it feels and you respect others more. You are way more developed than someone who has just been handed things on a bed of roses their entire lives. We know hot o pretend and we know how to smile. But most important of all we know how are actions make people feel. I have never let anyone get bullied in front of me and never will ever again because I know how it feels. These things are your assets, and yes while there is still that mental trauma from years ago, it is a part of us and makes us who we are today. You just need to turn yourself on for this world to see and they will realize that they have been missing a gem. Just be who you are.<br />
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Being popular does not even matter though but once you see that the world accepts you, you will come to accept yourself a little more and eventually be able to bury the past where it belongs, in your memory, not your life. If you ever need to talk, please do not hesitate to message me. Sometimes it is easier to talk to a stranger.

I've never been bullied so I don't really know how is like. But while reading your story ,I kept wanting to yell: don't do that, don't hurt yourself. It seems like you are not fair to yourself. You are also a bully, but the only person that you hurt is yourself. Try to picture yourself from outside, from the perspective of a different person. I see you as very nice person. I think you will too.

I can relate to a lot of things you said. Bullies find the most weak point in your self esteem and press on it every time. I noticed that most of the bullied people have one thing in common, they are either too weak or too nice to fight back, usually too nice at start and then becoming too weak. <br />
A lot of people who were bullied at school have sort of post traumatic disorders because of that. From what you wrote I see you have that too.<br />
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I really want to talk with you, you seem a very nice person.<br />
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Keep preforming, maybe make a channel on youtube of your acting skills. It might be a great confidence boost for you. :)<br />
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Best wishes,<br />

You're pretty amazing, being able to bring all of that out so honestly, and look at it without flinching. Thanks. I really understand why you would like to see a little karmic justice enacted on your bullies, and you may well - life quite frequently does deal that out.<br />
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I'm always appalled by the absolute bear-pit that american schools seem to be - having grown up in a different hemisphere, where the cliques and cruelties just werent so intense (or so unregulated by reasonably fair teachers). As someone always grossly fat, I'm not sure how I would have survived an american school.

That sounds pretty bad alright - but everything I've heard from friends, &amp; have read, emphasises the excessive domination by cliques and petty hierarchies, the cruelty and bullying and abuse, it sounds .. well, a terrible experience.