A Brief Summary of 8 Years of My Life.
I've always had trouble making friends. I was quiet and shy like the rest of my family. I was that 'loner' in school. People just didn't like me. No matter how hard I tried to talk to someone, they would always just leave. They didn't want to be seen with a loser like me.
I was always close to my Grandma. She was basically my best friend, as corny as it sounds, yes it's true. She never yelled at me, she was kind and caring and, most importantly, she never judged me.
2ND CLASS
I believe 2nd class was when this all started. On Christmas Eve, my mom phoned home and told my family that my grandma had passed away. I just remember slowly bursting into tears and just shutting up. I remember shutting up for the rest of the day and it was weird for me to shut up since I was a loud kid at home. Her death didn't really sink in though.
The day of the funeral
This day, I remember waking up extremely confused. I remember my 7 year old self running around the house with only one worry on my mind, where the hell were my black clothes? With just a few minutes to spare before we left for the funeral, I threw on my PE tracksuit because I didn't have a full black outfit. I was a very preppy kid, I wore colour. Before this, I never wore a full black outfit.
I remember driving up to the funeral home and seeing a bunch of cars parked outside. I remember seeing a lot of black. People were shaking my parents' hands and patting my sisters and I on the shoulder.
I got into the funeral home and there in the middle of the room was my grandma. She was pale and lifeless. I didn't know what to say.
I remember our family having to bow down to the coffin, some religious ritual. Everyone bowed down and then it was my turn. I froze. Everyone stared at me. I couldn't move. That's when it sunk in. I knew that by bowing, I had to say goodbye and I didn't want to.
It was time to close the coffin. This is when I cried my eyes out. Seeing my mom desperately crying was hard. I've never seen her cry like that before. This was when I realised that I would never be able to see her again. She would never invite me to watch TV with her again. I would never hear her voice again. I would never see her smile again. This was when I realised that she would just become a memory.
School
Going back to school was hell. I had become even more quiet. I wasn't happy.
My 2nd class teacher would always ask us about our news every morning. I remember putting my hand up and telling her 'I went to my grandma's funeral.' I've never voluntarily spoke out before. I guess I only put my hand up because I wanted someone to talk to. My family aren't very expressive when it comes to their emotions. Her response was 'OK.' I kept to myself.
This was when I started caring. People called me 'ugly', a 'loner,' a 'chink,' etc. I didn't care until this year. I never really cared until this year. I started listening to what they said. Every time I looked in a mirror, I would cry because that's exactly what I saw. 'A lonely, ugly chink.'
They would make fun of my walk. I have a medical condition that I've been desperate to fix that causes this. They would ask me why I was limping. They would mock me. They would laugh. This is my biggest insecurity and it was everyone's topic of discussion.
Home
Everyday I would come home and go to my room. I would talk to myself in the mirror because I was desperate for help. I would pretend I was talking to someone else. I would tell her how I was feeling and what happened in school that day. It kept me sane.
Every night, I would cry myself to sleep. My eyes were always puffy the next morning. I wanted it to end. I wanted to be happy again. I wanted friends. I wanted to walk normally. I wanted to be pretty and popular. I wanted to talk to someone. I wanted to be happy again.
5th and 6th class
It got worse throughout these years. I was made fun of for my looks, my walk, my race and now, my body. People were commenting on how I wasn't developing as fast as the other girls were. The guys would comment and my one friend would too. I had to add that to my list of what I had to 'fix.' I was once told that I was a 'freak' and that 'I didn't belong on the earth.'
All the comments and the mockery were slowly killing me. The suicidal thoughts started in 5th class. I had only briefly thought about it in 5th class. The thoughts got stronger in 6th class. I started choking myself with a scarf in a desperate bid to leave. I tried this two or three times.
Throughout 5th and 6th class, I would fill the sink with ice cold water and keep my head under there for as long as I could. It helped me to forget about school and my home life. I would keep my head in the water until I was sure I would gasp for air when I lifted my head up.
Yes, my home life got bad. My older sisters and my cousin would leave to go work with my dad on the weekend. My younger sister and I were left at home with my mom. My mom has a very short temper and if I didn't do something ASAP, I would get hit. During the weekends, this got out of control. I was hit almost every weekend and screamed at. I was sick of it all. I was miserable. I didn't know why she would scream and hit me even if I did do the chores or whatever she told me to do. Sometimes, it would be random and I would just have to deal with it.
1st Year
I was entering a new school. I wanted this year to be different. I wore makeup to look pretty. I changed my hairstyle. I tried to convince myself to be confident. This backfired.
I was quiet and shy as usual. I had only one friend that I hung out with at lunch. Sometimes she would leave to talk to other people at lunch so I would stand at my locker for 20 minutes, 'cleaning' it. For the 15 other minutes, I would walk around the school or go stand in the toilet stall.
I felt like a loner again. I hate that word. But I felt all those terrible emotions I had in primary school again. I wanted the year to be different but it was basically the same even though there were no awful comments about my race or my looks. I did hear people commenting on how I walk though but I guess they're always going to talk about it. I was still miserable, so I cut.
I cut my wrists with a razor blade and covered it up with a bit of makeup. I turned to cutting because I felt like I had to 'punish' myself for feeling miserable. It felt good to punish myself. I cut about 3 times this year.
I remember having an assembly and I wore these flats that were a little loose. I remember going down the main stairs and my shoe falling off. I remember people whispering and laughing. I remember people snickering. I remember seeing a teacher rolling her eyes at me. I remember tearing up in the middle of the crowd while the whole year was laughing. I was tired.
Even though I was tired, I smiled. I laughed. I didn't want anyone to suspect anything. I didn't want to hand over my problems to someone else. I faked it all.
2nd Year
This year got better. I now had a table to sit at and I was making friends. For some reason, I was still miserable. I cut again. I cut twice this year.
3rd Year
This year, I was feeling worse. I was tired, both physically and emotionally. I cut, once again. This time, I would pour mouthwash over my fresh cut in order for it to sting. I don't know why but I did. This year, I cut 3 times.
I remember breaking down during Maths. Everyone thought it was because I got a D in my 'Area and Volume' test. Nope. It was because my suicidal thoughts were coming back. I was so miserable that year that the thoughts were slowly coming back and that day, they were strong.
I didn't do it, obviously. I was scared so I cut.
4th Year
This year, I'm just sick of it all. I'm tired of pretending I'm fine. I'm tired of answering 'I'm good' whenever someone asks me if I'm ok. I'm not ok. I'm sick of faking my smile, forcing myself to laugh, etc. I love making people smile or laugh though. I like to think that if I can't be happy, I want to make someone else happy. I want to make them smile or laugh when I know I can't.
Just recently a friend of mine called me 'malnourished.' You never eat in school..you look malnourished. Believe me, I eat like a pig. I just can't gain weight. 'Skinny' and 'fat' comments affect people. My body weight shouldn't be anyone's topic of discussion.
Just recently a friend of mine called me 'malnourished.' You never eat in school..you look malnourished. Believe me, I eat like a pig. I just can't gain weight. 'Skinny' and 'fat' comments affect people. My body weight shouldn't be anyone's topic of discussion.
I haven't been coming in much this year because I'm tired of faking it all. I like to stay at home by myself and do stuff that makes me happy and gets my mind off of it all. People just think I'm lazy but I don't care anymore. I've spent 8 years caring about everyone's opinions but my own. I've started caring about myself. I still feel sad sometimes but when I do, I just turn to the hobbies that distract me from it all.
My Cry for Help
Yesterday, I received a letter stating I missed 19 days of school. My mom was angry and she questioned me as to why I had missed so many days. I kept quiet.
My dad came home from work at 1:30AM. He asked me why I missed so many days and I shut up, once again. He then convinced me that if I ever needed any help, ask him. "I could tell him anything."
Last night, I had my first panic attack. I was shaking, crying my eyes out and had trouble breathing. For 8 years, I haven't told anyone what I've been dealing with. Not one family member. Not one friend. I decided that 8 years had been long enough so I hoped telling my parents the next morning would help ...and if it didn't, I would tell someone else some other way.
I had trouble sleeping. Every time I thought of telling my parents my story, I nearly vomited. This is something I've always kept to myself because I don't know how people would react. I don't want people to treat me differently. I don't want people to have to watch what they say to me because they think I'll get sensitive and kill myself. I don't want pity. I just want to share my story.
The next morning came and my oldest sister asked me why I wasn't going to school and I told her I had to talk to our parents about something. She looked at me weirdly but left me alone.
An hour later, my mom asked and I broke down and told her I was feeling sad in school. This was what I was suspecting. I got yelled at. She told me it was my choice to do 4th year and it was my fault. I got angry and yelled at her to go away.
So I tried telling my dad. His reaction was worse. I told him I was feeling sad in school. He yelled 'WHAT?!' and screamed at me. He told me that even if I was feeling sad, it was no excuse to stay at home. Suck it up and go to school. I shut up. He yelled again. I tried telling him how I wasn't only feeling sad because it was a pointless school year but I've had this feeling since 2nd class. He yelled at me, once again. He told me it was my fault I never told anyone.
