Ever since i was 4 years old ive been bullied and im 13 now ive been called everything bitch, whore, slut, thot, idiot, stupid, dumb, freak, lardo, skank, fat, ugly, trash, a waste, meth smoker, cunt, loser, attention whore, and that i stunk, and other stuff but i cant quite remember but its still unacceptable. Im a cutter ive had  suicidal thoughts and attempts when i was in school i would get pushed around i would get pushed down i would get laughed at im not like other girls i have a little bit of weight but then i got home schooled but its continuing on facebook in groups im in. I try not to let it get to me but its hard i had a boyfriend and once i got so suicidal i was saying my goodbyes then he came into my life and he didnt know i was suicidal at the time but he somehow talked me out of it and he has helped me and saved me ever since but we broke up he called my cousin hotter and called me fat ugly and stupid said he would choose her over me and now he said he loves me and he was tired and stupid i dont know if i should take him back but when i was in regular school i would come home with cuts and bruises up and down my arms and legs i was taking 10 showers a day i was red my mom asked me why and i told her with tears in my eyes why and she pulled me out of school but now i get bullied at home on facebook and i cry myself to sleep at night.

I accidentally wrote an autobiography in 2010.

It was intended to be a brief life synopsis. A memory blog, if you will, that gave a rundown of major life events leading up to my 30^th birthday. Instead, it became a sprawling 128 page monstrosity. It was actually a very unique experience, as I was able to remember events and people that I hadn’t really thought about in years. The plan is that I’ll go back and add to it when I turn 40, 50 etc and summarize events in 10-year chunks, if I’m lucky enough to make it that far. It’s far from polished- not really proof-read or otherwise cleaned up for the consumption of other people. Only one other person has ever read it other than me, and I hadn’t looked at it in a long time myself, until just recently. I went back and examined a few particulars, because we’re reaching a milestone for me that only I really knew about until just very recently when I talked to my friend Brian about it.

I hate to talk about it in certain ways and even to write it down, because in my own mind it sounds so melodramatic and I don’t see myself as such. But it’s also fair to say that I can be unreasonably hard on myself, and my main reason for not discussing a lot of things is the desire to not bring pain or negativity into someone else’s life. That’s why I write this now- it’s an outlet without an ear. A safe space without a judgment. A place where I can express hurt without causing it.

I’m still dancing around the issue as I type, and I’m going as stream-of-conscious as I can. The fact is that from 1993 to 2004, I suffered from very severe post-traumatic stress, punctuated by brutally vivid flashbacks (Christ, I hate that term) that would suddenly pop up unexpectedly anywhere at any time. The last one that I recall having was around this time of year in 2004, meaning that I’ve been free of them for ten years. Considering that they played such a massive, private role in my life for eleven years, crossing the 10-year mark without them is a big deal to me. More on that in a moment. (I have no idea how long this post’ll be.)

It started with a single moment in time that ended up burning itself in my memory and just wouldn’t let go. Then the flashback moments expanded to other moments in history, including the one I had entirely forgotten about (blocked?) where my back got forever damaged when I was about six or so. The original incident that really started the PTS symptoms was in ’93. Rather than rewrite everything, I’ll go back into the “Recollection” piece (the biography from my 30^th birthday) and paste the description here:

“I was walking to the gym locker room after school to get some stuff from my locker. A kid I didn't recognize and who I believe was from one of the other schools came out and said something to me that I didn't understand but he then sprayed me in the face with one of those breath spray canisters. They have a high alcohol content and a lot of kids would bring them to school and chug the shit at lunch time. (I saw students my age drinking bottles of Scope for the same reason.) It went into my eyes and blinded me temporarily and I was choking on it as it went in my mouth and up my nose. I don't think this was pre-planned. He saw me coming and did it on a whim. What happened next was also just a case of opportunity but that was not any comfort. I staggered back and had my hands to my eyes and was coughing violently when another kid came out of the locker room and saw this. He asked what had happened and I just said I couldn't see. He told me to look up and an alarm went off in my head and I tried to circle around him and he uppercutted me right into the sternum. I dropped like a ton of bricks and tried to breathe but a squeaking noise came out and that was it. My coat had flipped up over the back of my head as I hit the ground and I remember the two of them laughing and then taking turns stomping and kicking at my head through the coat. A third set of shoes came out from the locker room and joined in. My whole body had gone numb and I couldn't feel anything. Just sense the impacts and hear the thudding sound of them but other than that, nothing registered.

One of the greatest regrets of my life was that I didn't get off at least one shot at one of them during that ordeal before I hit the ground. I'm sure I would have paid a steeper price for it and may have even been badly injured, but I think I would have accepted it. The fact that I failed in that instant when I had the training and knowledge to act was inexcusable to me and as I laid there trying to breathe and the thuds ricocheted off my skull, I was wishing they'd kill me.

Numerous footsteps walked by as I laid there for I don't know how long. Some were students and others were parents. I'd be surprised if any were teachers as that would be tough to look past even as lackadaisical as most of them were. Several pairs of shoes both big and small stopped for a second and then took a big step over my body and kept walking. One lady, a parent, kneeled down and tried to check on me and I begged her to just leave me alone and that I was fine. She finally gave up and left. I finally pulled myself up, cleaned myself up in the bathroom, and then called home since I'd missed my bus.

I told the gym teacher or whomever it was about this a few days later. He said I should have reported it right after it happened then and there was nothing he could do about it. He sounded annoyed that I was talking to him.

Shortly thereafter, I started experiencing what I could only describe as flashbacks. Initially, they focused on the locker room assault and gradually spread to cover other incidents as well. It was like a TV in my head would play those episodes over and over and over in high-def and surround sound and I'd relive all the physical sensations of it repeatedly until it finally stopped out of exhaustion and then it would happen again a few days later. Research would later show this to be a form of post-traumatic stress but at the time, I thought I was brain damaged since I didn't know what else to think. I was getting migraines regularly and the flashbacks would really haunt me for probably the next ten years and the migraines persist even today.”

That’s the scoop on that. After that, a certain sound or smell, a flash of light etc would send my emotions into a tailspin. I had external control, ie I wouldn’t break down in public or behave erratically or anything. I’d just find a place to be alone for as long as I needed to, close my eyes and wait for the visons and sensations to stop. It could take five minutes or an hour. It was always exhausting though, and I placed a lot of hate, blame and shame on myself for them. The locker room thing wasn’t an isolated incident. It was actually just one example of my entire school experience from kindergarten through the end of the 9^th grade, whether it be physical damage or mental and emotional attacks. (For example, anonymous notes trying to prompt me (unsuccessfully, obviously) to commit suicide. On Valentines Day at one point, which I thought was a classy touch.) But the locker room thing served as the straw that broke the camel’s back I guess as far as nightmares and all the other stuff.

It’s an accomplishment to have turned that off for a decade. Instead of feeling proud of that fact, I feel a sense of melancholy, because I largely closed myself off from everyone during that period where they were at their worst, not wanting to bring anyone else into a dark world. Brian knew what was going because I’d known him long enough that he’s seen everything. He’s seen me have these flash episodes and tried to talk me through them. He saw me have to fight when we were freshman in high school and a group came calling looking to do damage. He was at my house multiple times when my Mom was at her worst and incomprehensible due to alcohol. It’s all kind of old-hat to him by now, LOL.

I never knew what finally caused the symptoms to stop. Or at least, I didn’t think I did. I believe I do now, and here’s where the accomplishment truly lies, as hard as it is to acknowledge because the origins stem from painful places. I can’t say for certain, but I now believe that the flashbacks and other symptoms finally stopped because I finally, genuinely learned to stop hating myself for them. When that sense of self-blame finally faded and I gained a healthier perspective on everything, I regained control over my mind and emotions in that vein. I mourn the years that I lost as far as how isolated I felt and kept myself from people because of that internal struggle. I was never a bad person, and I never wanted to hurt anyone. I learned how to fight because I had to, and I dedicated myself so wholly to it because I truly feel I’d be dead if I hadn’t. It also, over time, gave me a sense of self-confidence during a period when I had none. Then I felt guilty that my only self-confidence was the result of essentially violence against bad people, but I look at that now as extremely unfair. That perspective, I believe, is why the visions finally stopped.

I have moments of bad memories now, and moments of insecurity where I feel behind where I should be as a person in some way, but I recognize those moments for what they are and I think some of that is simply being human. I’m proud of who I’ve become, and realized that who I was wasn’t actually bad either. Just a kid who didn’t know who to talk to and didn’t know what to do.

And that’s okay.

I still internalize some things that may not be fair, but they are what they are. People I cared about were hurt by people trying to get to me back in the day, and while I probably shouldn’t feel guilt over that, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But I can’t change that, and I can’t change the years where I felt swallowed by what had been. The last major flashback I recall having was over 4^th of July weekend in 2004. I may have had one or two more later that year, but I don’t remember specifically. As such, the weekend of the 4^th stands out as I hit the 10 year mark. The symbolism of that falling on “Independence Day” is not lost on me.

So that’s been on my mind a lot.

Here’s to Independence. Here’s to 10 years free…

Hello my name is Arielle I am now 21, and I have always stood against bullying my whole life, though yes I have been bullied my child hood and yes of course it is something you do not forget, as I was growing up I remember in the 5th grade before middle school id be teased about my race and how I looked and dressed and yet that was still and issue as I was growing up into middle school and high school. Now everyone always would think I was the so called "popular" person but that would only be because my mother did not raise me to be rude, that being said you can say I was too kind but I like helping people all my life I feel but in the end those so called "friends" would just use me and stab me in the back now of course I did not show that I was hurt by the people that would bully me. But growing up because I am a mixed race child people would not think I was my other ethnicities because my skin color wasn't that color or because I wasn't smart or thin whatever the case and because I would choose not to dress what do you call it?? "girly" as people say because frankly I just was not comfortable in tight clothes and make up was never for me and still to this day I do not wear make up, I believe people would judge me because I was not their girly girl. That being sad that then led into " why do you dress like that? are you gay or something?" now of course I did not know about my sexual preference until I became a little older but yes I did know I was attracted to women as well but that still does not explain the way I dress and why does it matter to other people if I am happy with my self which I was in the end, but of course I would ask my self do I dress like this because of my sexuality? no I do not I just want to walk out of the house comfortable is that so wrong?? As well as my ethnicity people would make fun of me because I'm a mixed race child and then act a little racist as to "why isn't your skin black? if your part black?" "why isn't your skin brown? if your part latina?", and "hey aren't you suppose to be smart, and have little eyes if your part asian?" it was just ridicules of the things people have said to me as I'm growing up. But, in conclusion my mother spoke with me and told me that people who bully are people who are really sad in the inside and need to pick on someone else to make them selves feel better, and she would always tell me I'm beautiful no matter what and If it was not for my mother and daughter close bond I believe id have lost my mind and be lost because of her she boosted my self esteem and taught me to accept others as well as respect others around me.

Kindergarten I've been called a liar.

First grade I've been called a cheater.

Second grade I've been called an idiot.

Third grade I was called retarded.

Fourth grade I've been called reclusive.

Fifth grade I've been called emo.

Sixth grade I've been called bitch.

Seventh grade I've been called faggot.

Eighth grade I've been called demonic.

Ninth grade will call me weird.

Tenth grade will call me a whore.

Eleventh grade will call me a backstabber.

Twelfth grade will call me loner.

College will call me stupid.

Life will call me a joke.

Death will call me unworthy.

Dance calls me untalented.

Art calls me annoying.

Auditoriums call me terrible.

Girls call me an ass.

Boys call me a freak.

My parents call me ungrateful.

At night these names haunt me.

At night is when they really get to me.

At 3 A.M. every night

That's where you'll find me.

With a blade in hand I draw a pretty picture.

I draw in a dazzling red.

And boy, does it dazzle.

By day I'm far away from food.

I can't eat that, heavens no!

I'll get fat.

Another name they'll call me.

Honestly, I'm lonely and scared.

There's only a couple who believe in me.

They are my only light,

My only hope to survive.

This is the story of a thirteen year old girl.

Bullied by everyone,

Loved by two,

Hated by most.

Am I fat?

Am I ugly?

Am I a faggot?

Am I an emo freak?

I want to live.

I want to die.

I want to believe.

The question is,

...can I survive the words

That are stuck in my head

Which turn to knives

That pierce my heart?

Hi.. so when you read this i don't expect you to understand this, but, i need you to see how much bullying had affected me. I've been bullied since primary school, but it got to its peak when i was in secondary school. It started up when my mum and dad split up. Around now, i was 12/13, and thought i would go onto social media networks and ask for advice. (yes i know, sooo stupid). But i got some really good advice, but i also got messages. One of them has been with me since its been said. 'go die in a hole, no one will care, and it will make life easier for the people around you. This killed me. I believed him, (i thought my parents splitting up was my fault, even though they told me it wasnt). I started cutting. My mum had a 'friend' out in france, who she would stay with every other 3 Months. After a while, i was happy because mum was happy, i stopped cutting at this point and moved on. One day, i get the news that mums in hospital. He said she fell down the stairs. Bullshit. You beat her. She tried taking her life. You messed her up. It took a while for her horrible depression to clear up, and i tried my very hardest to be on point. (i didnt behave perfectly). After a while mum met a new guy, and everything's going amazing, he treats her well and if he doesn't, he will sure hear from me. (I'm kinda protective over her). but before mum got together with the guy she's with now, i got messages after messages after messages. Someone gave out my username for this messenger. I started cutting again and these messages were vile. Ill give you one of them, and it said, ' maybe depression is a good place for you, you're clearly messed up in the head, no guy would ever look at you twice you fat piece of shit i hope you rot in hell'. And many more. I was cutting often and i had some dark thoughts. Whenever i saw a tree all i could think was, i could hang myself on there. When i look back, i realise how stupid i was for letting those bullies walk all over me. I didn't want to share the whole story, as i dont want to remember those times any more as im ashamed of it. what i want you all to know is that, know your power with the block button, or delete button. It will help. And no matter what they say, its not true, it never will be, your worth way more. Yeah your gonna disagree, but its true, and it takes time to realise. I know it doesnt seem much, but its true. Never add strangers or people you dont like. And dont go to cutting. I regret the first time still, and im waiting for the last time to come. Please remember that your worth way more, than the words which are thrown at you. Im 15 now, and yes, i still cut, but not as much, i have a new way in helping me stop and its slowly helping. So please remember to NEVER EVER listen to them.

I have been bullied since I was in the 2nd grade. Im going into the seventh grade. Nothing has changed really. Im still going through all the same stuff. I think everything has just gotten worse actually. Ive been dealing with everything all alone. Ive been abandoned, stabbed in the back and never have really had anyone there for me. Ive felt alone since the third grade. My boyfriend and my "brother" have my back. Everytime Ive tired explaining everything Ive been going through to my parents, they show no sympathy and say "every teen goes through the same thing." I say differently. Now that both my parents have the same job, I feel like a bean bag being tossed all over the place. Im almost never home :(. Anyways, back to my bullying. Ive tried figuring out why I get bullied. I thought it was because I wasnt rich enough or something. But now, im not sure. Im just glad ive got my boyfriend and my "Brother". If you would like to know more, please like this or something. Thank you!!

hi, I'm jacco, I'm 18 years old and I live in the Netherlands.
when I was 8 years old, I was bullied for the first time because I was not good at school. every day at school was a tragedy for me because I did not feel safe.
I was beaten, I was kicked, I was grabbed by the throat and I was drawn to my hair.
After two years I decided to once again oppose them and bite away from me.
that was not exactly a success.
I was beaten up by three guys and then I got stuck in a wheelchair.
I am so often kicked my back that I'm hit. partially paralyzed
having been in the hospital at 12 weeks I was told that I would never walk again.
my world collapsed.
I finally had to go back to school because I wanted to get. my diploma
After 2 weeks the harassment started again.
I was pushed by my wheelchair, I was insulted and ridiculed.
when I was 14, I made ​​the decision not to go to school.
My father had a garage and I have always had a passion for cars.
although I could never drive a car when I decided to work with cars.
I started with my father to restore a car, something I did with a lot of love and passion.
After 2 years, the car was almost completely restored.
Then something happened that I never expected.
the bullies at school knew I was working in a garage.
they came a long walk with a group of 12 boys.
when they saw me they started again with bullying.
they started to beat me.
when my father came back was his turn.
he was beaten up by five guys and the other stood around it.
I felt powerless because what could a boy of 16, in a wheelchair do well against 12 boys.
I called the police and after I made ​​a report I received a blow to my head and passed out.
When I woke up I was in the hospital with a broken nose and burns.
The doctors told me that the bullies had put the car on fire and me and my father had left.
I have brought a case against the 12 boys because abuse, insult, arson, and destruction.
they got all 12 jailed for 9 years.
My father died two weeks later from his injuries.
that was a very difficult time.
After half a year, I decided to let rebuild the garage.
I then started again restoring the car and after 2 years when I was 18, the car was ready.
the car for me is a tribute to my father.

1 year  later, I received  from the government the opportunity to convert the car so I would be able to drive the car.
Since that time I drive past the cemetery every day of my father to say that I am proud of him because he has helped to do what I love to do.
I am also grateful to him for what he taught me.
without him I would never have come this far.
Now I often hear from people that they admire my perseverance.
I now have my own business in my garage where I work with other people.
without my father, I'd never be able to do this.
i still have planned to give to charity against bullying. 50 percent of my income
so I feel that I can do about bullying. anything anyway

I've never really talked to anyone about what happened in my youth.
This feels like a relief that I have brought my story. outside

I am jacco and I'm 100 percent against bullying.

Hi. I will tell you my name, but I would rather not do it now.

My bullying story starts in Kindergarten. I was smaller than everyone, but, to be honest, I was way smarter. In reading and math, I had to go to a Third Grade classroom to be challenged. Everyone was really tall and tuff in my eyes, and that was exactly what they wanted me to believe. I was constantly pushed around, and sometimes I would come home from school with most of my hair pulled out, a broken nose, or large bruises splattered over my body.

You would have thought a teacher would have noticed, but they didn't give a crap about what the older kids did.

When I reached Third Grade, I was already in Middle School classes. I was in a new school with a great best friend. Sadly, she was the only friend I had. On my first day of Third Grade at a new school, I met one of my Kindergarten bullies. He acted friendly, as if he had never committed those crimes three years ago. I was to naïve to notice that he was just waiting for me to let my guard down.

One day at recess, he walked up to me. "Hello, _____." He says, smiling. (The blank is for my name, I want to be anonymous.) I smile back, and greet him. Suddenly, he smacks me across the face, and I end up on the ground. Thankfully, the teachers at my new school wanted to help me, so they ran over to me. The boy was expelled for three months, and I was sent home with a concussion and a bloody nose.

In Fifth grade, I thought everything was going to be better. I wasn't bullied much in Fourth grade, so I figured that this was going to be the single year in my life where I wouldn't be picked on. Schooling was going almost too well for me; I had classes at a local Middle School for Eighth grade math, and next year I was heading to High School. Everything seemed wonderful.

Until I stepped into the classroom.

I had made two more friends, both who would stand up for me in an instant, but I didn't want them to be involved. I told them to find a seat for us, and that I would be over in a few minutes.

I remember standing there, watching this kid. It was my bully, the one who had tormented me my whole life. He had found me again.

"Hello, what's your name?" I had asked sweetly. The kid rolled his eyes and stated his name as if I had never known. Only then did he notice who I was.

"Oh, it's _____!" He had shouted. The entire class had turned to look at us. He pulled me into a forceful hug and left me gasping for air. "Oh, you're exactly as I remember you!" He pinched my cheek harshly and slapped me on the back.

Now the class was laughing. My teacher took this as a friendly greeting, and asked "Do you two know each other?"

I was about to say that he was just messing around, waiting for everyone to think that we were best of friends. But he answered first. "Yeah, we're cousins!" He elbowed me hard in the side. "Right, cuz?"

When everyone had assumed we were actually related, he started to do some damage. Pushing me off the monkey bars (it hurts more than your think), pinching me, saying ridiculous lies, and eventually hitting me and punching me. Every day I would come home with a bloody something, and once he had even broken my arm.

This went on and one through Sixth grade and Seventh grade. It's now the Summer, and I am nervously waiting for Eighth grade. Will he be there? If so, can I somehow avoid him?

My life is horrible, and even now he is bullying me through the Internet. Posting random things about me, telling even more lies, hurting me mentally. I don't want my life to turn into something like Amanda Todd's, but who knows? When I mentioned her story at school, he had overheard.

Now, he's making my life like hers. I have been beaten up by him and his gangs, and they threaten me that if I tell anyone, they will post more embarrassing things. He even went on Images and found nude girl pictures and claimed they were mine.

I don't know what to do anymore. I suffer from Depression, Anxiety, and several other things I can't pronounce. I have four councilors, my parents are trying to help (but it only makes it worse), and I haven't even told most people about it, blaming everything he does to me on myself. I have been hospitalized at least six times for suicidal failures.

My last hope was that maybe someone here could help. I really feel hopeless, lonely, and dead. I'm only 14, and everyone says there is more that I have to do with my life. What if I go into High School and  meet even more bullies? I can't go out anymore, I cut in secret, and do many other self-harm things. It's better to hurt myself then hurt someone else, right? Right.

So I have a gorgeous 7 year old little boy. He is a natural athlete, tests above average on national as well as state test, he is a natural athlete and has kids love him. The child is good at everything he touches. Now I bet you are wondering WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE THE PROBLEM???  His father while loving Drake and is wonderful about spending time with him, has given him some wrong impressions. His father has a reputation of instilling fear to get respect and Drake sees this working with most men that his father comes in contact with. Now belive it or not most of the trouble his father and I got into as school kids had to do with us fighting the kids bullying other children. Drake does not hear us when we say that. He only sees that people are scared of his dad and that gets his father what he wants most of the time. We were married for 8 years and while he was an amazing father to Drake he didnt set the best examples. He was abusive towards me. Drake now feels he constantly needs to prove his strength and it doesnt matter if that means picking "on the little guy". I have punished him talked until I was blue in the face. I have told him that it was unacceptable behavior many times. We have gotten better in the past few weeks but my fear is that he will be the bully not the defender. I couldnt stand any child feeling that kind of pain because of my son. I will home school him before I allow that to happen! So far at school he hasnt had trouble with it. It has been with his cousins and a few innocodents with neighborhood kids. I know that parents of bullied children might hate me for this post but this is a 2 way struggle for parents. Although I will go to the ends of the earth to protect my child You will never hear me say "boys will be boys" or " thats just a part of growing up" because to me thats a cop out for parents that dont want to see any flaws in there child. So any feedback would be appreviated. Thanks for listening.

Erica

"Drakes Mom"

The only reason why bullies are bulliers is because they know that your better than them and they don't want you to be better. When I was in school I got talked about they way I looked, the way it dress, and when I read a story in class I studdered a lot. But don't let words get to you. They want you to feel down because they feel that way.