Author’s Notes: This isn’t a story, this is an essay. This was my hell and the reason I found my first great depression.

Bully Depression

I have been over-weight since the age of six. My parents blame my grandmother for stuffing my face. But when I think about it, my house has no healthy food in it up until they found out my dad was a diabetic. And after that, if I eat any thing that my dad can eat I hear rants and raves about how we are always eating his food. But that is after this. That is one of the reasons I am depressed now, this is the beginning of why I turned depressed.

Eighth grade started like a good year, until I found out my history teacher was the football coach for the school. I despised sports. He favored them greatly in the class by allowing them to set next to each other in his class and assigning them to friends for group projects. The first time one of my friends and I appeared to be talking in class, he split us up. I was the top student in the class so for every group project I was assigned to the class failures. Because of this, I never was able to get any extra credit in the games, because a team-mate was holding me back.

I remember him favoring the kids that had a bad rap. You know, the ones from the bad side of town. Ones that good little girls like me don’t associate with. So he never gave them any detentions and talking to. He had an aide, who I always remember as a menacing woman. She didn’t like the good little kids, preferring the kids that wouldn’t listen to any other teacher, but respected her. She also thought the head teacher was a God it seemed, for she had never but great things to say about him.

So I am in a class were the majority of the students are either jocks or kids that within five years will be in a state penitentiary. And my few friends got to sit in the corner with the each other, but I was thrust in the middle of the snake pit. The class was also average, and I knew tons of what he was teaching, so often I didn’t pay attention. In my other classes, my teachers had accepted this, but he didn’t. He yelled at me weekly in class for reading novels during the time he went over notes, or was showing a documentary. And I would put my book away and set darkly for the rest of the period. I would get back at him by correcting something he had said.

So for the first half of the year that was it. Then the bullies started. It was those wrong side of the track kids that I hated.

At first it was just the occasional fat bitch comment that I would shrug off. Then it was daily comments about my weight. I talked to my some teachers, and they said to ignore it. I knew that if I had reported they were making fun of my race or my religion, they would have done something. It was against school rules for that. But not for making fun of someone’s weight. According to them I could just loose it and that would end it.

My history teacher knew what they were doing. He never spoke a word to stop them.

It started getting worse. They would note leave me alone. Across campus I would here their comments about my weight. Harassing me until a teacher appeared.

Then they started sitting behind me in the cafeteria. At first they didn’t do anything. Then they started coming up to me and offering me part of their lunches.

But it go worse. They started throwing food at me. Half-eaten candy got into my long curly hair. But it got worse again. They started approaching me and attempting to stuff food in my mouth. Until this became a weekly practice. They once even left candy in my locker since in my school we didn’t have locks on them.

So I started fighting back. Insulting their intelligence. But I got in trouble for this, since I was a good kid. The teacher who talked to me about it said she would discuss it with the students that were doing this. If she did or didn’t I never knew. They still would not leave me alone.

And my history teacher knew what they were doing. But he said I was fighting back. It didn’t matter that I was only one and it was seven boys, he didn’t intervene.

It was then I started thinking about suicide.

I thought would it be nice to end the teasing, stop them from destroying my life. So one day I took a bottle of pills into the bathroom with a glass of water. I looked into the mirror. Was I really so hideous. Did I really disgust people. I stood their for a good ten minutes. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill myself. I emptied the water and put the pills back in the kitchen. I never told anyone about it.

I saw myself after that fingering knifes. Wondering how the pain would feel. A few weeks after the pills, again I was in the bathroom and again with a knife to my wrist. I didn’t do it again and never told anyone.

For the rest of the year I didn’t attempt suicide, but I did think about it. I left middle school in the top 10 maybe even the top 5.

This happen three years ago when I was fourteen. I am now seventeen and remember each and every insult they dealt me. I am still over weight. I am an honor roll student in the top 10 of my class. I have a wonderful boyfriend and fantastic friends.

But........

When ever I look at myself in the mirror I see myself as ugly. I do not consider myself pretty at all. I am still depressed. I have been reported twice to the school for suicidal tendencies. I have a few times cut myself. I have again tried to commit suicide, but didn’t succeed.

When this happens I began to think to myself, if one of the teachers I had talked to had done something, would I be in this position. If my history teacher had finally stopped favoring kids would I be like this. If he had not decided not to judge them at all because every else had, would I be here. And if I had not been such a coward and told my parents or the principal at the school, would I be here.

Why am I telling you all this, people who I don’t even know, who have probably never meet me and never will?

Because I don’t want any of you to turn out like me.

If you are being picked on, tell someone. If they tell you to ignore it, report it to someone else until you get someone that will help you. Ignoring doesn’t stop these people, it just makes them be more creative. Bullying is verbal harassment. It is allowed to be taken to court. Don’t put up with people who hurt you, quit it. You are better then them. You are better then me.

Just remember this story the next time you see someone being picked on. See their face and picture in its place a grave stone showing a kid that hasn’t even been allowed to live. Remember that it is not a televison show were everything is allowed to happen. Just remember.