I know that my story may not be as ground breaking as some of the others ones out there. But nevertheless, a story is a story. For as long as I can remember I have been and always was the 'weird girl.' I hardly had any friends, and I always tried to fit in with the other 'popular' kids. I really only had one great friend. Ive known her since my first day of kindergarten. We were as thick as thieves in till I decided I wanted to throw that away just for a spot at the lunch table with the cool girls in middle school. That right there was the first mistake of a very long and sad road. These girls always wanted to change me. To tell me I could dress better. Or I could wear make up. No matter what I did in their eyes I was just the weird girl trying to fit in. I did everything I could. I would pretend to like bands because they did (even though I could care less about the singers). There had been a few incidents I remember very vividly about this 'friendship' I had with them. One day when we were all at after school care we were running around the play ground in till someone decided it would be fun to play hide and seek. So we did, and naturally I was the one who would have to try and find them. So I counted down and the girls hid. When I got to the appropriate number I opened my eyes, and well, you know the drill. The game went on for what felt like forever. Still, these girls were no where to be found. Eventually, I realized they didnt want to play a game. They wanted to get rid of me so they could do their own thing with out me. Because I was the freak who made them look bad. They didnt try to come find me, not in till they realized I stopped looking. On another day there was an 5th grade field trip to the middle school we would all be going to next. There was an assembly about how cool this next school is going to be, and how there would be dances, and what felt like a never ending party. After that was all said and done we created a line up at the front of the Multipurpose room waiting to board back on to the buses. It was during this time, I had never felt so small and insignificant next to these girls. I started to tell a story (and to this day I cant remember what it was) and the leader of the pack Kathrine turned to me and told me to shut up, just so she can talk and tell her story that she felt was so much more interesting than mine. I continued to be tortured emotionally by these girls from that day on. For some unknown reason I still hung out with them in middle school. Maybe it was because I thought I had burnt all my bridges with my old friends, or because they brainwashed me into thinking I needed to hang out with them. And if I didnt, I would be a nobody and a loser. For those next three years I continued to believe that if I put up with their bullying I would somehow blossom into a beautiful butterfly of 'cool.' It was a very shocking day when I found out that would never happen. These girls would talk behind my back, make fun of me to my face, refuse to tell me things because in their eyes I was a loud mouth. By the end of my 8th grade year they were cyber bullying me. They would log on to myspace just to call me names like bitch, slut, and worthless like it made them feel better about themselves. To me, it was brainwashing. I wanted to be their friend so bad it felt like I couldnt wait to log on to see what horrible names they decided to call me next. They didnt talk to me at school, only online. That was the year I also found peace with the sharp end of the blade. That was the year I decided to proceed with self harm.

In my 5th grade year my parents were divorced. So home life wasnt very safe as well. Between the name calling at school and overhearing the threats of having the police called to drag one of my parent out at home, I felt I couldnt be accepted anywhere. But, still I tried. I left that school district and in my freshman year of high school I was the new girl. The girl that every girl talked about and every guy wanted to date. I once again found myself drawn to what seemed like the 'popular' girls. Everything seemed fine. They all wanted to be my best friend and was so excited to see me again later that week. I thought it was a dream come true. In till later that year when I was told I HAD to have a boyfriend, or else I was 'uncool.' Repeat my middle school experience, with just more drama. So I did what I was told. I had a boyfriend. I smoked pot. I drank. I did whatever they wanted. My sophomore and junior year I really only hung out wit one of the girls, intill she went to independent study. Then we just hardly talked. But somehow, with out them I managed to crush on a boy so hard I thought my heart was going to fall out of my chest, I continued on with band becoming the saxophone section leader and the Band Vice President. I really thought everything was going to be better. Then, my home life exploded in my face. I had learned the hard way, it isnt only kids who are cruel. My senior year was when I had really hit rock bottom. I was known as the school's slut (when I actually never had slept with anyone before in my life), the bitch girl, and once again, the loser. School sucked, but it wasnt like I looked forward to go home. After being called names all day at school, I would go home and cry in my room as my sister would tell me that I was fat, idiotic, loser. And while my mother's boyfriend would audibly gag every time I would sing. He was the worst. He was the reason why I didnt feel safe. I couldnt do anything with out having that red faced monster yelling at me for no reason. Like accidentally dropping a plastic cup, or laughing too loud.

Things at school werent doing any better, I was getting anyonomys phone calls and texts from 3 different groups of people. I was told I needed to shave my 'moustache' and that I had no buisness being the school band's drum major because I could not represent our school. I was told I needed to go away, and that no one had any respect for me. One of my good friends at the time tried to take my boyfriend away from me. I had a sister at school who would say nasty things to me to make me want to crawl into a hole and never be seen again. By the end of my senior year,  I wanted to die. I had lost a best friend because she had only used me to get to the boy I had been in love with since my sophomore year. I had lost everyone because they all believed what they heard. I became that student who eats with their favorite teacher because they cant show their face around the lunch yard. It wasnt in till I graduated I felt free. I know at that moment. When I grabbed my diploma and threw my hat in the air I could finally cry tears of joy because I knew I wouldnt have to see these people again. I stuck it out. I made it past the suicide attempts and past the cutting. I stopped everything. I stopped caring so much. I knew at that moment I could be me. Not the girl everyone else wanted to see. 

To whoever is reading this now. There is help out there. Tell your principle, I did. Tell your closest friend. Tell a teacher. Tell an adult you trust. Tell someone. I hardly did any of those things and thats what I feel made it worse. Believe me someone out there cares. And it just breaks my heart knowing that right now there are many other kids out there who felt the same way I did and its not worth it. I know it felt like it at the time. But its not. And it never will be.