My Story

    • I don't remember much about when I was little, only that I was happy and my life seemed to be going great, when in truth, life wasn't going so great and I was about to get a wake up call, at age 7, that life really isn't as great as it seems when you're just a baby.

      When I was 7, I changed schools, and no one I knew in kindergarden was going where I was going. I was exited at first, because I would make new friends and also, my dad was a teacher there. What could be better than your dad as a teacher at your school? Turns out, everything would have been better than that. School turned out to be terrible.

      The kids hated me, they hated me because I was a teachers' kid, they hated me because they said I was weird, they hated me because they said I was ugly. They just hated me. And I didn't understand, because I was the only one out of my siblings that had problems there. My brother did well when he went there, as did my sisters before me, but for some reason, everyone hated me. Even the teachers, all exept one, hated me.

      I was alone that entire first schoolyear. I had no friends, no one. I was picked on daily and was spiralling into depression fast, though I was very good at hiding it from everyone. When they saw me cry, I'd just stop and say that I didn't care about any of it, that it didn't matter what they said or did. I lied of course.

      During that summer after that first year, I did make one friend. My best friend still to this day. She was my first friend I made all year, and I was extatic. She was differen from the other kids, even though she was one of the most popular kids in my age group. She lost a lot of so called friends when she began to talk to me, but she didn't care. She wanted to be my friend, and she did what she wanted. I was happy again, for a while.

      Then, I almost died. At the end of summer, a few of the older kids from the higher years tried to hang me. They tied a rope around my neck, tied it to a tree and left me there to die. I remember the feeling of choking, how my air supply was cut off and my longues were struggling to get some air. My lips had begun to turn blue when a young 20-year old or so found me and immediately cut me loose. I bolted and ran home as fast as I could. My mom freaked when she was the state I was in, especially when she saw the rope burns on my neck. I don't think I've ever seen her more angry than then. I don't remember who tied the rope around my neck, doctors say I blacked that part out, I just remember choking and then being saved. It was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life.

      School started up again, and it was the same as ever, exept now I had one friend. But even she couldn't protect me from all the bullies all the time. I acted out that year, even stole a couple times and got caught each time. I was becoming more and more distant from everyone and everything. Meanwhile, home life wasn't going as great as it seemed, either. Turns out, my brother was (and still is) highly involved with drugs; dealing drugs, taking drugs, he did it.

      My brother and parents fought all the time and my brother threatened to kill himself a couple of times and then my dad, mom and for some reason me, went out to find him and stop him. I always went with them to find him, even though I'm the youngest of the four. But I guess on some level I knew what he was feeling and I couldn't loose him, he means the world to me. Thankfully, we always got to him before he did stupid things.

      The year ended, summer came and went, 3rd grade came and went the same as the first 2 years, miserably, and then I went to the 4th grade, the worst of my 6 years at that school.

      My 4th grade teacher loathed me and did everything she could to make me hate myself even more than I already did at that time in my life. When someone did something wrong, I'd get blamed. When I didn't get an answer right, I was called stupid. Now, besides dealing with all the kids my age hating me, I had to deal with an adult who seemed to hate me even more than the kids did.

      Towards the end of that year, 4 girls of my class beat me up while my teacher was just a few yards away, and she saw, I knew she saw, but she let the girls just do it. I ran then, and i didn't go home. I wandered around for 3 hours before I did finally go home, only to find that my neighbour was waiting for me because my mom, dad, the principal and two other teachers were out looking for me. They said things would change then, it didn't, not a lot.

      Fifth grade was a bit better because I had a new teacher, but the kids remained the same. The only one I had was my best friend, and she was transferred to my class that year, so that was a lightpoint in my schoolyear.

      Sixth grade was different. A lot of the kids eased up on me, seemingly getting tired of always picking on the same kid, I guess. My best friend and I caused a lot of trouble, we both hated school intensly by that point. We were glad when the year was over. High school was coming up.

      Part II

      Sadly, my best friend went to a different high school then me, so I was all alone again. By this time, home life had decreased a lot. Right before I started high school, my brother, still highly involved with drugs, moved out and my oldest sister (who's a year younger than my brother), ran away, telling children's cervices that my parents were abusive, which they weren't. To top it all off, my grandpa, one of my favorite persons in the world, died on August 13th 2003, two and a half weeks before I was to begin high school.

      Because of my sister (who wouldn't come back until 3 years later) and her lies, child services were investigatin my parents, and because I was only 12, almost 13, at that time, they thought it was in my best interest to take me away. They didn't though, in the end, but not for a lack of trying. The only reasons they didn't was because the people at the institution my sister was staying at, were saying that she was a compulsive liar, who believed what she said. My relationship with that sister never recovered.

      Though home life did get better now it was just me, my older sister by 3 years and my parents. We were doing good. Though my mom did tell me that year that she has a muscle desease, one of which her mother died of, which did make me feel bad.

      After my first two weeks of high school, I transferred to a new school because it was too expensive financially for my parents and I could see that. I told them I was getting picked on, but that was a lie, I loved it there and I had friends, a lot of them. But I had to make a sacrifice for my parents, I felt I owed it to them.

      My new school was a lot like my 6 years before high school, awful. I recieved numerous death threats during the 3 years I was there and I had no real friends, again. Why was it the same like before? Because apparantly this school was very popular with my old school kids; they did everything they could to make my life hell again. Even though they weren't in my class, they succeeded. The lessons were the only part of school I liked.

      By that time I started smoking to relieve the stress (normal cigarettes) and I regret that, because now, 7 years later, I can't stop and I smoke way too much to be healthy.

      I was crying a lot, again. And my self-esteem was the lowest it had ever been. I truly and completely loathed myself. I hardly ate, not because I was anorexic, but just because I was too tired emotionally to just do anything, even something as simple as eat. Usually, I only ate at home, almost never when I was at school all day long.

      During my second year, I spend a month at home from school with terrible migraines and heartpalpitations. It took them till I was 18 to figure out I have a small hole in my heart, which causes the palpatations. Even though I was too sick to even stand up most of that month, I couldn't be happier because I wasn't in school.

      During my third year, my dad fell ill. Which was really weird because my dad was never sick. He just had one raw deal after the other and had a total of 7 surgeries in little over a year. One time, he almost died, just days before my final exams, and I never felt so hopeless like I did then. Thankfully he pulled through, but his health never recovered.

      It was a lot to deal with, and suddenly my oldest brother and sister came back home again, which was a big deal. My brother, I didn't mind. My sister, well, I was miserable because she was back and I truly did hate her at the time. We fought a lot and I really did want to run away so I'd be away from her. I don't hate her anymore, but we don't have much of a relationship anymore as sisters. It's still too soon to build that back up, especially when I don't trust her yet.

      Part III

      Because of all the medical bills of my father, mother and even myself, we were in danger of being evicted. My brother didn't work, neither did my oldest sister. And my other sister and myself still went to school. So I made a life changing decision, probably the toughest decision I've ever had to make.

      I dropped out of school and went to a parttime school (where I knew I wouldn't be able to get my high school diploma, it wasn't that kind of a school), so I could work parttime and earn my parents the money we needed. I worked, and each month, I gave them everything I earned, keeping next to nothing for myself.

      I liked going to work, because I wasn't picked on all the time anymore, and I hated those 2 days I had to go to school. I was supposed to be a 4th grader by then, instead I was working and going to a pretend school (is what I called it) 2 days in the week. At least I had a few friends there. But I was not doing good mentally and even physically.

      I started to get these pains in my knees, which wouldn't go away and still hasn't gone away. I grew too fast and my hips aren't exactly in the correct possition, causing my kneecaps to be in the wrong position, causing the pain. I'm still now learning to deal with it, knowing it can't be helped, unless I decide to cut my legs in half and place metal in them and maybe help the problem or make the pain worse, which I won't do.

      My brother's problems were also intensifying, causing problems with the law, so I worked even harder to pay for a lawyer for him. I helped stay him out of jail, at least that's something.

      4 months before my 16th birthday, I started drinking. It actually started after my best friend's mom died and she began to drank and I went along with it for her. Soon, I didn't need my bff to drink, I began to do it during my two days of school. I drank during lunch, showed up drunk at school, got send home, did it again. Don't get me wrong, I'm not an addict, I still drink now, I just don't get drunk anymore, but I was on my way to become an addict. I think I stopped my heavy drinking not a minute to soon. Now, when I do drink, it's in the weekend, one or maybe two drinks, no more.

      I also started to suffer from anxiety attacks, and had to be rushed to the ER a few times because of it, because my heart was in overdrive thanks to the combination of the anxiety attack and the small hole in my heart.

      When I was 17, I tried to kill myself with sleeping pills and pills to thin out the blood (my dad's pills). Exept, I changed my mind halfway through and called my parents, telling them what I did and to hurry home. They called an ambulance, I spend a week in the hospital, and that was that. I didn't go back to the parttime school, I was 'sick' according to my doctor, he knew why I couldn't go back, so he made it happen so I didn't have to go back.

      That was 2 years ago, and now, I still don't have a diploma or a job. I am looking into getting my diploma through home studying, though. And I have just recovered from Mono, so that's kind of a big reason of my not working yet.

      I know I still have a long way to go, but I do feel like I'm getting there. I'm trying. I have friends I can relly on for anythign. I do feel better about myself most days than I did 2 years ago, but I'm still not a 100% there. And honestly, I don't think I'll ever get to be a 100%, too much has happened for that. But I'm trying to make it.

      I'm trying to make most of the life I have, because you never do know when it'll be over. And because of what I did 2 years ago, I have learned to appreciate life more and not to listen to the people who want to bring me down anymore. It's funny, I tried to take my own life and instead I ended up wanting to live more than ever.

      Is my life great now? No, far from it. But I've learned to take to the bad with the good. And there is good in my life now. I'm doing good now, but I know it could have ended differently for me. I could have been dead right now, unable to share this with everyone here, which is exactly why I'm sharing my story now. The first time I am sharing my entire story ever. I think it can help someone to know that things do get better, maybe not great, but better.

      And better is good. Better saved my life.
    • Re: My Story

      I enjoyed your story.
      I can relate to a lot you've been through, although I'm only 16.
      I'm going through a lot of the things you've mentioned, except the "parental teacher"
      problem.. That'd be horrible!

      Anyways, I just wanted to thank you for sharing your story. That had to take a lot for you be open and honest to the public. You're a very strong individual. Your attitude is going to make you a success later in life, I promise.

      Just remember, what you've been through makes you who you are today.
      You're one of the rare "survivors" of the problems people are experiencing now-a-days.

      Again, thank you for sharing your story. It was very inspirational!
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    • Re: My Story

      @Sweetcrimefighter

      Thank you for the offer, but the journey I'm on is one that must be traveled alone.
      Whether I make the right decisions or not, I'll have to keep going.
      However, I'd like to extend your own offer to yourself.
      If you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be there.
      Please accept my friend request as well!
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    • Re: My Story

      Than you for sharing your story. I can kind of relate with what you are going through (even though I'm only 15), since I saw my sister go through a lot of that. Pretty much the only difference between your story and my sister's story is that she attempted suicide instead of someone almost killing her.

      Again, I thank you for sharing this story.