Scarred from school bullying

Posted: 11/13/2013

My name is Julie and I live in Denmark (a small country in Europe). I would like to share my story with you.

I was bullied from when I was 7 until I was 14.

It started in my first school. I was a very shy girl, didn’t talk much, and had very few friends. The only real friend I had only liked me because she could push me around whenever she liked. The popular girls in my school didn’t talk with me or even acknowledge my existence, apart from when they talked about me behind my back. It wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t terrible either. In 1st grade my favorite teacher, who always used to make sure I didn’t get treated too bad, quit. That’s when the nightmare started. The girls from school would call me mean things, laugh at me, and spread nasty rumors. They would call me fat, ugly, a dwarf (I wasn’t very tall), a gnome, troll, idiot, or worse, and I’d believe them. Sometimes they even hit me, but I didn’t tell anyone because I figured it was my own fault. The boys just laughed at me or pushed me around. It got to a point where I was afraid to go to school, where I’d go to bed and hope I wouldn’t wake up.

Eventually I changed schools. My new school was o.k. nobody really talked much to me, but as long as they didn’t hit me or call me names, I was happy (almost. As close I could be at that time). Then a new girl entered my grade. I tried to be friendly and get to know her, but she manipulated me into being her minion. Eventually I broke it off with her but she now manipulated every girl in the grade (except for me) to be her minions. She decided I was annoying and began bullying me. She’d get others to do her dirty work. For example, once it was my turn to sweep the classroom after school, but she stayed around, together with two other girls. She started by calling me mean things, then she got the two other girls to hit me, until I tried to run to my bike, to go home. I had just gotten onto it, when they grabbed the bike, and with me on it shoved it, so I fell to the ground with the bike on top of me. They then called me things I’d rather not mention, and hit me some more. Eventually I got home, but I sat in the corner of my living room for an hour, trying to stop crying. I started feeling really bad again, and even became slightly bulimic. I’d eat a lot of greasy or unhealthy food, and then I’d make myself throw up in the toilet, so I wouldn’t gain any weight. I was only a bit over the “normal” BMI, but I felt huge. I started throwing up, just to get to stay home from school. I began getting nasty thoughts, suicide thoughts. The thing about words is they can hurt so much more than punches. If someone tells you enough times that you’re fat, ugly, and that this planet would be better without you, you start believing it. I begged my parents to let me change schools again, but I wasn’t allowed. I told my teacher, but he didn’t care. I’d get panic attacks, and I’d break down at least 4 times a week. My home life wasn’t good either. I had (and still have) many problems with my parents.

Eventually I changed schools, and my new school is great. Good teachers, good classmates. I still have those thoughts though. I have to struggle with suicide thoughts, depression, thoughts about cutting, loneliness and slight bulimia every day. Those schools left me scarred, and now I find it very difficult to gain friends. I have some though. I wish I could tell you, it all just went away. That I never had those thoughts again, and that everything is perfect, but that would be a lie. Its better, definitely, and sometimes I forget about it, even for several hours, but it’s never truly gone. I’m better though, and I hope to help others In my situation.

Sincerely,
Julie

P.S. think about your words. They can hurt more than you think.

By: Julie