Do আপনি ever wonder what's going on inside other people's heads?
I do.
A lot.
I wonder what people think of me. Every সেকেন্ড of my life.
But for some reason, I'm pretty sure it's just a passive acknowledgment of my existence.
They must think to themselves "Really, what does a straight A honors student with a 4.14 Grade Point average and the President of a school club have to hide?"
You'd be surprised.
Life as I had known it before ended in 5th grade. Before the day, December 17th, I had been at peace with my carefully organized world. Of course, I wasn't really sure why it had to be as organized as it was. But that comes later.
But on that day, the single girl I had devoted every bit of my হৃদয় to broke away. Without a word, an apology, anything. But it was a fatal blow through heart.
And two days later, when I asked why she was ignoring me, she looked me dead in the eyes and ব্যক্ত coldly "I just don't like you." But seeing me hurt wasn't enough. "I never did."
As I burst into tears and crumpled to the ground and was filled with an overwhelming sense of loneliness. A loneliness that haunts me to this day.
I looked in the mirror daily after that, adding every acne spot and flaky patch of skin to a তালিকা of imperfections. I was 10 years old. I thought my life was over.
Nobody talked to me from then until the first দিন of sixth grade, 9 months later. I sat alone and wondered why my life was so horrible.
When I got into middle school I expected a change, but nothing like what happened.
I was teased and taunted for my differences daily. Spiraling deeper into an inescapable depression, I reached out to anyone that would catch me.
Recently diagnosed with OCD, I was scared. I couldn't understand myself অথবা why people didn't like me. I was hurt, defensive.
I chopped off all of my hair, blonde, golden. I dyed it brown as a signal of my rotting heart.
Nobody noticed.
The first two বন্ধু I made left me. One moved and forgot about me, though she promised not to. The other did the same my fifth grade best friend had, left me without saying a word.
Sometimes silence can be আরো painful than words.
My seventh grade বছর came. I gave middle school a সেকেন্ড chance. I switched friend groups. I tried to fit in, though it was crushing me.
And I was cyberbullied.
I received the ugliest hate in my ফেসবুক chat.
"She should kill herself"
"I hate her, and she's ugly as fuck"
"Let's just kill her as a favor"
I cried my eyes out every night, but no one helped me.
And finally my mother reported the bullying to a school administrator. She told me they came from nice families.Then she asked them to be nice to me because I had 'special challenges'. I wanted to hit her. তীক্ষ্নভাবে her across the face for being such an incompetent fuck.
So it got worse. Because now people knew i was different.
I started cutting.
I got into a bad group that encouraged me to do things I'm not proud of. I drank a couple of times, got into fights and became a ruffian. As far as I was concerned, my life was at rock bottom. And I started debating the best way to kill myself.
When I reached the decision, I was barely 12 years old. And I was holding a ছুরি to my throat, ready to inflict the deadly cut. But I stopped.I dropped the ছুরি and I cried. And my mother found me there and immediately took me to therapy sessions where I was diagnosed with Aspergers syndrome, anxiety disorder, and Bipolar disorder.
My mom made me use the summer to 'train' for 8th grade. It didn't help. When I got back to 8th grade the torment continued. People spread rumors like wildfire. I was a slut. I was a druggie. I was a bitch.
No matter what I ব্যক্ত it was automatically true because SHE ব্যক্ত it.
And she told me daily to kill myself.
I was being attacked on three sides. দ্বারা H, দ্বারা T and দ্বারা M. I'll spare their names. I couldn't ভালুক school. I had no one. I was no one. And I left. I faced my severe depression alone in homeschool and I healed, but not enough.
In highschool, I thought life was finally perfect. I had met friends, a wonderful boy who accepted me for who I was. What wasn't to like? He wasn't
he took advantage of me. Fed me false affections, used me. And he almost took with him my virginity. Only the দিন afterward to tell me he was in প্রণয় with another girl, whose just a couple of days ago, tried to run my family's car off the road and into a housing complex.
I cursed the world and my ignorance. I started cutting again. I furiously lashed out at all the new বন্ধু I had made.
But I wasn't done yet. My family is to inflict a blow now.
My mother, crushing me under her rules, is suffocating my spirit. I'm running out of wrist to cut. And yesterday. My own sister slipped me a note of the reasons why she hated me.
I almost ended it there. But I stopped myself. For my best friend Victoria.
Think today, if not of my story, then of what আপনি perceive of others.
This is my final prayer that someone will save me from myself.
-Love, actually, a জনপ্রিয় ফ্যানপপ user. Surprise.
I do.
A lot.
I wonder what people think of me. Every সেকেন্ড of my life.
But for some reason, I'm pretty sure it's just a passive acknowledgment of my existence.
They must think to themselves "Really, what does a straight A honors student with a 4.14 Grade Point average and the President of a school club have to hide?"
You'd be surprised.
Life as I had known it before ended in 5th grade. Before the day, December 17th, I had been at peace with my carefully organized world. Of course, I wasn't really sure why it had to be as organized as it was. But that comes later.
But on that day, the single girl I had devoted every bit of my হৃদয় to broke away. Without a word, an apology, anything. But it was a fatal blow through heart.
And two days later, when I asked why she was ignoring me, she looked me dead in the eyes and ব্যক্ত coldly "I just don't like you." But seeing me hurt wasn't enough. "I never did."
As I burst into tears and crumpled to the ground and was filled with an overwhelming sense of loneliness. A loneliness that haunts me to this day.
I looked in the mirror daily after that, adding every acne spot and flaky patch of skin to a তালিকা of imperfections. I was 10 years old. I thought my life was over.
Nobody talked to me from then until the first দিন of sixth grade, 9 months later. I sat alone and wondered why my life was so horrible.
When I got into middle school I expected a change, but nothing like what happened.
I was teased and taunted for my differences daily. Spiraling deeper into an inescapable depression, I reached out to anyone that would catch me.
Recently diagnosed with OCD, I was scared. I couldn't understand myself অথবা why people didn't like me. I was hurt, defensive.
I chopped off all of my hair, blonde, golden. I dyed it brown as a signal of my rotting heart.
Nobody noticed.
The first two বন্ধু I made left me. One moved and forgot about me, though she promised not to. The other did the same my fifth grade best friend had, left me without saying a word.
Sometimes silence can be আরো painful than words.
My seventh grade বছর came. I gave middle school a সেকেন্ড chance. I switched friend groups. I tried to fit in, though it was crushing me.
And I was cyberbullied.
I received the ugliest hate in my ফেসবুক chat.
"She should kill herself"
"I hate her, and she's ugly as fuck"
"Let's just kill her as a favor"
I cried my eyes out every night, but no one helped me.
And finally my mother reported the bullying to a school administrator. She told me they came from nice families.Then she asked them to be nice to me because I had 'special challenges'. I wanted to hit her. তীক্ষ্নভাবে her across the face for being such an incompetent fuck.
So it got worse. Because now people knew i was different.
I started cutting.
I got into a bad group that encouraged me to do things I'm not proud of. I drank a couple of times, got into fights and became a ruffian. As far as I was concerned, my life was at rock bottom. And I started debating the best way to kill myself.
When I reached the decision, I was barely 12 years old. And I was holding a ছুরি to my throat, ready to inflict the deadly cut. But I stopped.I dropped the ছুরি and I cried. And my mother found me there and immediately took me to therapy sessions where I was diagnosed with Aspergers syndrome, anxiety disorder, and Bipolar disorder.
My mom made me use the summer to 'train' for 8th grade. It didn't help. When I got back to 8th grade the torment continued. People spread rumors like wildfire. I was a slut. I was a druggie. I was a bitch.
No matter what I ব্যক্ত it was automatically true because SHE ব্যক্ত it.
And she told me daily to kill myself.
I was being attacked on three sides. দ্বারা H, দ্বারা T and দ্বারা M. I'll spare their names. I couldn't ভালুক school. I had no one. I was no one. And I left. I faced my severe depression alone in homeschool and I healed, but not enough.
In highschool, I thought life was finally perfect. I had met friends, a wonderful boy who accepted me for who I was. What wasn't to like? He wasn't
he took advantage of me. Fed me false affections, used me. And he almost took with him my virginity. Only the দিন afterward to tell me he was in প্রণয় with another girl, whose just a couple of days ago, tried to run my family's car off the road and into a housing complex.
I cursed the world and my ignorance. I started cutting again. I furiously lashed out at all the new বন্ধু I had made.
But I wasn't done yet. My family is to inflict a blow now.
My mother, crushing me under her rules, is suffocating my spirit. I'm running out of wrist to cut. And yesterday. My own sister slipped me a note of the reasons why she hated me.
I almost ended it there. But I stopped myself. For my best friend Victoria.
Think today, if not of my story, then of what আপনি perceive of others.
This is my final prayer that someone will save me from myself.
-Love, actually, a জনপ্রিয় ফ্যানপপ user. Surprise.
