My Bullying Story
If I'm honest, it's going to be so hard to get this out and down on "paper" for all to read. I blocked most of my school years out, but someone on another writing site inspired me to write my own bullying story. This is real, all true events, all happened to me, I'm going to try and provide as much as possible.
I guess you could say that I was a bully magnet. For as long as I could remember, I was bullied. I was diagnosed with Autism when I was younger, so that would already set me apart from my peers before I even started school. I was a quiet child, reserved, shy and maybe a bit strange. Kids can be so nasty; if you're even slightly different, they will pick at it, like a vulture picking at a mouldy carcass, so it was inevitable that I was to endure endless bullying from when I started school at five years old.
I can't really remember much of my younger years but snippets come forwards, snapshots of a past that I've more or less tried to freeze out of my life. I recall wandering the playground alone, while other people played, feeling lonely and not understanding why they hated me. I can remember the names and as I progressed through primary school, the memory becomes clearer.
There was a time when a group of girls ganged up on me and stabbed me with pencils, I had lead marks all over my arms and they were only found out when the teacher saw the marks on my arms. That was another thing, I let them get away with it; it was like I'd built a big wall around all the bullying.
I was a loner child; with one or two friends, that were younger than me, because they didn't have the understanding that I was the school "weirdo". Another memory surfaces, I might have been younger, I might have been older, but this is one of my most prominent.
I must have blacked out, for I found myself cornered by three or four boys, they were banging my head repeatedly against the metal bars that surrounded the school playground. Where the teachers were, I don't know, I never even thought of it, to be honest. Then all I can remember is being thrown to the floor and after that, most of primary school is a blur.
It got significantly worse when I entered Middle School. Kids seem to get crueller as they get older, so it's inevitable that the taunts, the names and the physical assaults would get worse as I entered Middle School.
This was when the rumours started, people would do things that were against the rules and then blame me for them, and the teachers believed them because I was the problem child, I was the autistic child so I must have behaviour problems. They never even stopped to think that I was one of the better behaved children.
No, I had a stigma attached to me and I was always going to.
I can remember one incident, I think I was in year six. These girls, one of the worst instigators had gone into the toilets and thrown tissue at the ceilings so that it stuck. Then they'd gone to the teachers and said I'd done it. Of course, they believed them. Of course.
I would get tripped, kicked and pushed in corridors. People would move my chair when I went to sit down and throw things at me. I stupidly gave them Christmas cards and they just ripped them up. I was always the last to be picked for sports. Thankfully, I'd made some friends, so I no longer wandered the playground alone.
There was this stupid phrase that went around, pretty much the whole school. They would touch each other and scream "Miranda's germs, no returns!" and then lock their fingers, as if to say they were protected from my so called "Germs!"
Things just seemed to get worst and worst, as I progressed through the years. I hit year seven and I met someone who I supposed I could have called my "best friend", if I could have even called her a friend. I'm not going to say her name, even after all this time, I feel like I have to protect her somehow.
I knew right away that she was a pathological liar. She lied about everything and often hurt people (me) to get attention. She made up rumours that I had bullied her and even faked tears. She'd hit me, push me and more or less be a complete bitch to me. Yet, I still stayed friends with her.
This is when things really started to hit the fan. There was this boy, Sam and he was the biggest tosser to ever walk this earth! There was something not right about him and it showed. He was even worse than my friend. He often encouraged and engaged in the bullying that I had to endure from my peers.
And yet, the teachers saw it, on a daily basis and they did nothing. They sat and watched, not caring as I was tortured nearly every day. The "Friend" pushed me down, slapped and threatened me countless time, but they turned a blind eye. For some reason, they hated me.
To this day, I still don't know why.
I left Middle School in year school and started Secondary School in September of 2005. At first, everything was okay. Most of the people were nice to me, or just neutral. Then someone from my old school told them that I had headlice and it all exploded.
Every day, I had to go to school and endure an endless tirade of bullying. It was relentless and non-stop, they all parroted each other, their voices rising in a cacophony of taunting words and shrieked insults. I tried to block it out, I really did but they were relentless, they took great pleasure in my pain.
I started to suffer from panic attacks. I would get into a state and just leave the room. After that, the damage was permanent, the bullying had left a permanent mark – one that I still suffer from today. As I entered year nine, the bullies got even worse.
Every day I was pushed, tripped, called names and threatened on a daily basis. I remember one incident where some boy from my maths class grabbed my coat and started swinging me through the corridors. My bag was taken and thrown somewhere; thankfully, some good Samaritan found it and handed it in. My faith in humanity was restored; if only slightly.
I was constantly bombarded with insults and threats and I was even blackmailed, saying that if I didn't do what I wanted, then I would pay. Things were thrown at me, the back of my chair was kicked and many times, I was actually physically hit.
The time that surfaces most clearly in my memory was around about towards the end of Year Nine. It was in the morning, at my school, you had to go to Tutor Period first thing to get signed in for the day. Normally, we would all queue outside and wait for our teacher to let us inside.
I knew right away that today was going to be a bad day. From the way everyone was sneering at me as I approached the class, something big was going to happen. Sure enough, the taunts and names started up but I just leant against the wall and tried to ignore them. Ignoring them, as any bullying victim can tell you, achieves you, they become more determined, they hate you, so they step up their game and this is how this incident came about.
Along with the taunts and name calling, some idiot who I'm not going to name decided to throw a full bottle of coke (closed ) at me. Countless times, it missed and she'd come back to get it. But then, it hit and cut my eye open.
I couldn't see and blood was running down my face. They were all laughing at me, while my vision was f****d up and blood was coming from my eye in what I imagine would be torrents. I was taken to the hospital and I needed stitches. The physical wounds healed but the mental scars remained.
I could go on all day, telling you about every single little thing that happened to me in school. But honestly, I'd be here all day and I don't really want to go dragging out old skeletons that are better left buried. But I will say one thing.
I'm still here; I'm alive and the past is behind me. I have my problems, like the next person but I'm stronger, I'm a different person to the girl who left school six years ago. Because it's true what they say, you know. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
I promise you it gets better. If you're being bullied, even mildly, it gets better. You won't always be at school, one day, you'll get your exams and get a job. Your bullies will become a distant memory and you'll actually have the strength to look back and forgive them.
Not forget but forgive.
You'll have your down days like anyone else. But you'll get through them. Because you're strong, you're amazing and you're beautiful. Don't end your life over people who take pleasure in making you miserable, they're not worth it and you're letting them win.
Hold your head up high, soldier. You're beautiful, no matter what anyone says and someone loves you. Don't let the bullies win!
You'll get there one day!