Today I feel like this needs to be put out there because I'm ready to come out and say it. There's a lot of things in my history that I have put out there because I'm no longer ashamed of it (because fuck that, that's what make people who they are and I shouldn't be ashamed of it).
Back in high school, I was suicidal.
Shocking isn't it?
You can't tell that bullying affected me deeply because I chose to conceal it (...but now that I think about it maybe not as much, because evidently I did wear black and I looked miserable. all the fucking time.) And at the time only my partner knew about this problem and it was until maybe after grade 12 that I finally told my parents (but that didn't really go over well, they thought I was being a spoiled brat and a drama queen, but moving on).
I didn't ever really know why I was where I was, but I found myself there and I could not figure out a way to get out. When I think back on all of the events that occurred in my life I could still never figure out why until I finally broke out of my downward spiral.
Back then I got bullied through out grade two up until grade five-ish because I was "the nutcase's sister." Back then she used to be antagonized like so freaking much because she was different. Autistic, but was getting better at communicating her needs. so I did my best to take care of her at school and protect her as best I could because it was my duty as an older sister (but also because my mother told me I had to, and I was always a mommy's girl, so I obliged). I understood that the kids our age won't fully grasp the idea of "autism" and will make fun of her for it because she was different, but for some reason I also became a target of the bullying. BTW we lived in Jane and Finch, so it was probably worse because my mother also got bullied by kids our age wtf.
It got to a point where we had to move schools. I was given another chance to be something else besides my "sister's keeper."
So I became more aggressive and mean-spirited just to at least try to fit in. I still got picked on but I was able to fight back. Up until grade 8 anyway. By then I actually became the type of person I really hated.
Always envious of others, a bully... and I also became an emotional wreck and I would always come home crying from school because I lost friends too many times, and I was STILL being picked on because I was related to "the nutcase girl." Finally graduation hit and I would be gone from there and move forward, and be given another chance. And because my sister was a grade younger than me, no one would know who I am.
Grade 9 was super fun for me! I made a bunch of goof-ball friends and was befriended by a bunch of understanding 12th graders... and it was like "oh my god they treat me like I'm a human!" I was on cloud 9.
But then grade 10 hit. ENTER THE DREADED DEATH NOTE INCIDENT.
I was forced into a position where I had to protect my sister again. and once again I got bullied just for being related to her wtf. thankfully everyone in my grade and older was super understanding when I explained to them her situation, and began treating me and her like humans again. they even began being nice to her out of respect for me. unfortunately not everyone was willing to be nice to us. eventually it got to a point when I snapped at her because she was not thankful for me being there for her when all the world shut her out. I was hurt. Hurt by all the ignorance, and the intolerance, and the bigotry from people I've never even met and by people I don't even know exist, and from teachers I thought I could count on but sided with the bullies and justified their actions just because my sister and I were "weird, and socially awkward." What probably hurt me the most was that my parents think I failed trying to take care of her, AND my sister downplayed everything I did for her.
I guess that's when my decision to cut myself settled in. I just couldn't bother trying to be happy.
I was dating like normal people, I was eating, sleeping, doing homework like normal people, I had friends like normal people. But I was damn tired of everything. I began cutting and planning my funeral at the tender age of 16 years old. even though I was doing it like nobody's business, I wasn't about to let people know I was like that. I think this lasted for a few years, well after I graduated high school. It progressively got worse because three of my friends died during those years.
I have a scar from when I used to cut. Barely visible, but I can happily look at it and say I don't do that shit any more. One day I just woke up and stopped caring about what other people thought of me. Why the fuck should I have to be miserable to make them happy?
You know what? Fuck that and FUCK YOU ASSHOLES who think it's ok to hurt other people. I'll do what I want on my own terms, and if that means you'll be judging me from the sidelines, then I am going to judge you right back until you feel the need to jump off a cliff like the way you made me wanted to. Because karma is a bitch. And when you finally contemplate on which suicide method will work for you, I'll be laughing it up and working my dream job, happily married to my high school sweetheart, accomplishing my life goals, and living it up in my amazing house, while you scum of the earth remain miserable.
SO nowadays I've become a hypocritical, selfish, bitter old lady who is reaping the benefits out of other people's misery. Kinda like Regina here, but who cares :)
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