Instructions for a bad day

There will be bad days. Be calm. Loosen your grip, opening each palm slowly now. Let go. Be confident. Know that now is only a moment, and that if today is as bad as it gets, understand that by tomorrow, today will have ended. Be gracious. Accept each extended hand offered to pull you back from the somewhere you cannot escape. Be diligent. Scrape the gray sky clean. Realize every dark cloud is a smoke screen meant to blind us from the truth, and the truth is, whether we see them or not - the sun and moon are still there and always there is light.

Be forthright. Despite your instinct to say, “it’s alright, I’m okay” - be honest. Say how you feel without fear or guilt, without remorse or complexity. Be lucid in your explanation, be sterling in your oppose. If you think for one second no one knows what you’ve been going through; be accepting of the fact that you are wrong, that the long drawn and heavy breaths of despair have at times been felt by everyone - that pain is part of the human condition and that alone makes you a legion.

We hungry underdogs, we risers with dawn, we dissmissers of odds, we blessers of on – we will station ourselves to the calm. We will hold ourselves to the steady, be ready, player one. Life is going to come at you armed with hard times and tough choices, your voice is your weapon, your thoughts ammunition – there are no free extra men, be aware that as the instant now passes, it exists now as then. So be a mirror reflecting yourself back, and remembering the times when you thought all of this was too hard and that you’d never make it through.

Remember the times you could have pressed quit – but you hit continue. Be forgiving. Living with the burden of anger, is not living. Giving your focus to wrath will leave your entire self absent of what you need. Love and hate are beasts and the one that grows is the one you feed. Be persistent. Be the weed growing through the cracks in the cement, beautiful - because it doesn’t know it’s not supposed to grow there. Be resolute. Declare what you accept as true in a way that envisions the resolve with which you accept it.

If you are having a good day, be considerate. A simple smile could be the first-aid kit that someone has been looking for. If you believe with absolute honesty that you are doing everything you can - do more.

There will be bad days, times when the world weighs on you for so long it leaves you looking for an easy way out. There will be moments when the drought of joy seems unending. Instances spent pretending that everything is all right when it clearly is not, check your blind spot. See that love is still there, be patient. Every nightmare has a beginning, but every bad day has an end. Ignore what others have called you. I am calling you friend. Make us comprehend the urgency of your crisis. Silence left to its own devices, breed’s silence.

So speak and be heard. One word after the next, express yourself and put your life into context – if you find that no one is listening, be loud. Make noise. Stand in poise and be open. Hope in these situations is not enough and you will need someone to lean on. In the unlikely event that you have no one, look again. Everyone is blessed with the ability to listen. The deaf will hear you with their eyes. The blind will see you with their hands. Let your heart fill their newsstands, Let them read all about it. Admit to the bad days, the impossible nights. Listen to the insights of those who have been there, but have come back. They’ll tell you; you can stack misery, you can pack disappear you can even wear your sorrow – but come tomorrow you must change your clothes.

Everyone knows pain. We are not meant to carry it forever. We were never meant to hold it so closely, so be certain in the belief that what pain belongs to now will belong soon to then. That when someone asks you how was your day, realize that for some of us – it’s the only way we know how to say, “be calm. Loosen your grip, opening each palm, slowly now – let go.”

     - Shane Koyczan 

This poem probably saved my life, and I hope it will do the same with some of you guys. And please, if you ever are contemplating suicide, call me, text me, or get ahold of a close friend to help you. 

To This Day by Shane Koyczan

To This Day
When I was a kid
I used to think that pork chops and karate chops
were the same thing
I thought they were both pork chops
and because my grandmother thought it was cute
and because they were my favourite
she let me keep doing it

not really a big deal

one day
before I realized fat kids are not designed to climb trees
I fell out of a tree
and bruised the right side of my body

I didn’t want to tell my grandmother about it
because I was afraid I’d get in trouble
for playing somewhere that I shouldn’t have been

a few days later the gym teacher noticed the bruise
and I got sent to the principal’s office
from there I was sent to another small room
with a really nice lady
who asked me all kinds of questions
about my life at home

I saw no reason to lie
as far as I was concerned
life was pretty good
I told her “whenever I’m sad
my grandmother gives me karate chops”

this led to a full scale investigation
and I was removed from the house for three days
until they finally decided to ask how I got the bruises

news of this silly little story quickly spread through the school
and I earned my first nickname

pork chop

to this day
I hate pork chops

I’m not the only kid
who grew up this way
surrounded by people who used to say
that rhyme about sticks and stones
as if broken bones
hurt more than the names we got called
and we got called them all
so we grew up believing no one
would ever fall in love with us
that we’d be lonely forever
that we’d never meet someone
to make us feel like the sun
was something they built for us
in their tool shed
so broken heart strings bled the blues
as we tried to empty ourselves
so we would feel nothing
don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone
that an ingrown life
is something surgeons can cut away
that there’s no way for it to metastasize

it does

she was eight years old
our first day of grade three
when she got called ugly
we both got moved to the back of the class
so we would stop get bombarded by spit balls
but the school halls were a battleground
where we found ourselves outnumbered day after wretched day
we used to stay inside for recess
because outside was worse
outside we’d have to rehearse running away
or learn to stay still like statues giving no clues that we were there
in grade five they taped a sign to her desk
that read beware of dog

to this day
despite a loving husband
she doesn’t think she’s beautiful
because of a birthmark
that takes up a little less than half of her face
kids used to say she looks like a wrong answer
that someone tried to erase
but couldn’t quite get the job done
and they’ll never understand
that she’s raising two kids
whose definition of beauty
begins with the word mom
because they see her heart
before they see her skin
that she’s only ever always been amazing

he
was a broken branch
grafted onto a different family tree
adopted
but not because his parents opted for a different destiny
he was three when he became a mixed drink
of one part left alone
and two parts tragedy
started therapy in 8th grade
had a personality made up of tests and pills
lived like the uphills were mountains
and the downhills were cliffs
four fifths suicidal
a tidal wave of anti depressants
and an adolescence of being called popper
one part because of the pills
and ninety nine parts because of the cruelty
he tried to kill himself in grade ten
when a kid who still had his mom and dad
had the audacity to tell him “get over it” as if depression
is something that can be remedied
by any of the contents found in a first aid kit

to this day
he is a stick of TNT lit from both ends
could describe to you in detail the way the sky bends
in the moments before it’s about to fall
and despite an army of friends
who all call him an inspiration
he remains a conversation piece between people
who can’t understand
sometimes becoming drug free
has less to do with addiction
and more to do with sanity

we weren’t the only kids who grew up this way
to this day
kids are still being called names
the classics were
hey stupid
hey spaz
seems like each school has an arsenal of names
getting updated every year
and if a kid breaks in a school
and no one around chooses to hear
do they make a sound?
are they just the background noise
of a soundtrack stuck on repeat
when people say things like
kids can be cruel?
every school was a big top circus tent
and the pecking order went
from acrobats to lion tamers
from clowns to carnies
all of these were miles ahead of who we were
we were freaks
lobster claw boys and bearded ladies
oddities
juggling depression and loneliness playing solitaire spin the bottle
trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal
but at night
while the others slept
we kept walking the tightrope
it was practice
and yeah
some of us fell

but I want to tell them
that all of this shit
is just debris
leftover when we finally decide to smash all the things we thought
we used to be
and if you can’t see anything beautiful about yourself
get a better mirror
look a little closer
stare a little longer
because there’s something inside you
that made you keep trying
despite everyone who told you to quit
you built a cast around your broken heart
and signed it yourself
you signed it
“they were wrong”
because maybe you didn’t belong to a group or a click
maybe they decided to pick you last for basketball or everything
maybe you used to bring bruises and broken teeth
to show and tell but never told
because how can you hold your ground
if everyone around you wants to bury you beneath it
you have to believe that they were wrong

they have to be wrong

why else would we still be here?
we grew up learning to cheer on the underdog
because we see ourselves in them
we stem from a root planted in the belief
that we are not what we were called we are not abandoned cars stalled out and sitting empty on a highway
and if in some way we are
don’t worry
we only got out to walk and get gas
we are graduating members from the class of
fuck off we made it
not the faded echoes of voices crying out
names will never hurt me

of course
they did

but our lives will only ever always
continue to be
a balancing act
that has less to do with pain
and more to do with beauty.

My life started out normal, I was longer than the average baby at birth.

My parents were young, my mom was 19, my 21.  

My life was good untill I started going to school, the first three years was ok  sure I lost and gained friends but it was fine.

I'm not the skinniest person ever, I'm sure as fucking tall though.

During my fourth grade year I had been reassigned to a new school. Ever since the first day I knew everyone hated me just the way they looked at me I wanted to seriously run and hide, I would be violent because I didn't know what else to do, I was suspended so many times my Principal and my father were on first name bases. I remember coming home with tears falling down my face at times.  Nothing got better I had put up with all of this for three years.  The next year in the fifth grade I had moved to a different school, but it was in the same district and I still saw the same kids from my other school, and somehow they had gotten the new kids that I was going to school with make fun of me too.

I was called. tree, fatass.lardo. and many others.  During the middle of 6th grade I moved again to a different town.  

I felt like an outsider in that town like no one accepted me, I didn't care about anything people made fun of me because I didn't care.  Then I failed the 6th grade, worst mistake ever.  Later on in the second year of 6th grade I slipped in-to major depression.  Still till this day I still have it, even though I have no one to talk to about it. 

Today,I am living strong and still have my moments where I would rather be dead than alive but when I am bored  I make youtube videos explaining my tips on bullying and my story.  I hope one day my story can help out anyone who is going threw the same thing.

If you have no one to talk to, I am here.  You can email me at anytime at [email protected] 

Or you can contact me on youtube, Youtube.com/xxscenebishxx.

Thank you for reading my story. ♥

Love, Mallory Anthony.

Im not going to lie to you, i was a pretty popular kid in school all my life. And I'm ashamed to admit that when i was younger i thought that bullying a kid was the "cool" thing to do. This happened when i was in 2nd grade. I met a group of "friends" that i thought were pretty "cool". We all would hangout together and just have fun. Then this one day we were all outside for recess and they wanted to go inside because they had a great idea. We were DUMB, I was DUMB and as we snuck back inside we went to (ill name him Mike for this story) Mike's desk and flipped it over and took everything out and spread it around the floor. I was scared and I KNEW it was the wrong thing to do. So I ran outside and left the others. Then the bell rang and it was time for us all to go back inside. As I walked into the room i noticed more things were done. Mike's backpack was ripped all his pencils were broken and he had this expression on his face that really got to me. It was the look like he knew who it was and when he looked at me all i could do was look down. 4 YEARS WENT BY AND I SAID NOTHING!!! I will never forget that look in his eyes. I was still friend with these "cool" friends of mine, but it was different. I knew I couldnt take it anymore. So 6th grade, as I walked into the lunch room. Mike was sitting on the far side where he had always sat and eating lunch alone. I know this because i would always see him there everyday. I went and sat down with my "friends" and on this day they started talking about when we did those things to Mike. I really couldnt just sit there and listen anymore. 
So I got up and walked over to Mike and sat down with him. 

Ill never forget his face when i asked him if I could sit with him. 
I looked  at him and then put my head down and told him everything. I told him that I was so sorry for the things that I did to him and I took the blame for everything. 
He looked at me and told me that he knew it wasnt just me. He forgave me, like really that surprised me! 

I know a lot of you go threw worse things like that. I have a brother with special needs and I remember high school so well. I HATED when someone was rude to him, they would pick on him and push him around all the time. But i would always stand up for him. High school and grade school is hell i know it is. 

PLEASE never forget that no matter where you are there are people out here that care for you and that love you. People who will always listen to you. I know most of us have pretty hard lives these days, but know that know matter what youll always be God's special child and let know one put you down. 

Always Keep You Head Up 
and just 
Live Your Life how you want it to go :) 

God Bless You All <3

I have happy memories up until I was around 4 or 5. Then something happened to me and my older siblings. Something that we never got help for. Something that created anger and hatred inside of each of us. Since we had no idea how to deal with trauma, we took out our anger and hatred on each other. I was the youngest, so most of it was taken out on me. I was bullied whenever our parents weren't around. I remember praying as a little kid as I cried huddled on the floor for God to just let me die so I wouldn't have to go through it anymore. I prayed so many times... I remember one time telling my dad what my brother was doing to me, hitting me over and over with a pillow while taunting me, but he said he wouldn't do anything about it unless I showed him what my brother did by doing the same thing to him. I couldn't do it. I remember how horrible I felt that my dad wanted me to do to him what my brother did to me. I was so scared.

I can't remember how old I was, around 10 I think, when I decided enough was enough. I couldn't find any paper in my room, so I wrote on a piece of cardboard that I was giving my rock collection to my mom and that I didn't care what they did with the rest of my things. That night before bed, I went to the bathroom and took a small handful of tylenol and a small handful of ibuprofen and swallowed them. I wanted to die that night and wake up in Heaven.

Instead of falling asleep, my blood started pumping faster, and I got scared. I yelled down to my mom and started crying, telling her what I did. She and my dad had me drink a few glasses of milk, then had me induce vomiting. They told me they didn't want to take me to the hospital so I wouldn't have to go thru getting my stomach pumped and have to be locked in the psych ward. Looking back, I'm glad they didn't, but I can't help but think maybe I would've at least been given tools to help me deal, you know?

Things seemed to get better after that. I was still bullied, but not as much. It was years before my mom stopped hiding any kind of pain reliever from me.

When I do think of happy memories from my childhood, they were all at school. For some reason, even though I was a fat kid, I was never bullied at school. It was like I was invisible though, so maybe that's why.

I'm a mom of a soon-to-be kindergartener, and even though her dad and I are divorced, I do everything in my power to teach her to be kind to others and how to deal with bullies. (She's already had to deal with them at daycare. Unbelievable. There certainly are some idiot parents out there.)

My daughter is an only child, and she will stay that way (unless her dad fathers more kids) because I couldn't bear to know that one of my kids was bullying another one of my kids.

Well it all started in 6th grade when someone called me a mean thing and then it got worse my boyfriend had broken up with me and then had to rub it in my face that he has a hot new girlfriend then i was mad cause he had crossed the line right there and then he called me another word I won't say that was not very nice and the he made me mad I went and told my principal about what had happened and she said would give him 2 Days of ISS means in school suspicion and then my mom helped me thought it. And then I was happy again 

I was bullied for several years in school. It lasted for almost 10 years and I try to block it out of my mind. There were girls who played mean practical jokes on me, would shun me, and any time a boy may have liked me, the whole class, and at times the whole school would make it to where they didn't, and that boy would never talk to me again. I was also teased for the clothes I wore, the home I lived in, and was even harassed by the teachers. Finally, my parents pulled me out and home schooled me. I left the school with such a low self-esteem, but came out of it a much stronger person. I also saw that there was a life beyond the school---that stuff doesn't even matter in the real world. I don't have to go back to that ever again, and my kids will know how to defend themselves. I hope that someday kids who bully will learn what it feels like, and those who get bullied will make it through. There is life beyond the bully!

I have been through bulling all of my middle school year. 8th grade comes and I get along with everyone. I think in my head everyday that if it wasn't for my family and friends... I'd be....dead! I going to high school and I'm sure it's gonna start all over with the bullying but I plan on keeping in touch with my best friends now because we both know I NEED them to survive. To everyone out there about to kill yourself, I pray for you EVERY night. I may not know you personally but it hurts to know that you are gone and the bully won.....we are suppose to win not bullies!

I was in high school....it was the 1970's.....you never ever told on a bully, you just took the abuse.  My bullies...there were two, punched me and screamed at me when there was no one around.  There were no witnesses.  I was terrified....they were boys and I was a girl.  I could never figure out why they hated me.

When I was an adult with a child of my own.....my child became best friends with my bully's child . I would never ever face my bully ever....he even tried to be nice to me, but I could never forget the terror he caused in me.

My children never had bullies. I always hoped that I had somehows pared them,  by teaching them to never ever suffer alone......in silence like I had. 

My girls are in first and third grades.  Both are beautiful, social, kind and sincere.  Niether are being bullied but I know one day they will come face to face with that beast and so I prepare them, not only to stand against bullying but to not BE the bullies either.  It is our responsibility as parents to teach our kids about bullying and to NOT raise bullies.  This behavior starts in the home and I believe that parents should be aware of their children's social situations and standings.  Ask your kids how their day was when you pick them up from school or childcare.  Engage your children's friends and their parents.  Engage teachers and school administrators.  Teach your children to watch for the signs of a bully, and to stand up for themselves and others.  Teach them to be LEADERS not followers! there IS hope.