School Just Sucks [and depression and things of that nature]

I'm Taryn, and am currently going into Freshman year at Otis High School in Colorado. 

14 years old, and found out just last year that I am panromantic (meaning I'm attracted romantically to pretty much everyone, despite their gender or gender expression) and demisexual. I have to best friends. And I've been being bullied since I was in about fourth-fifth grade- since I was about seven or eight, which is about half my life.

It was never that bad until fifth grade, which is why I say it started there. It got really bad when a new kid came to school. Lets call him...John for privacy sake. Anyway, from the first day he saw me, he just HATED me, and I had absolutely no idea why.

All through fifth grade, every single time he saw me, he'd mutter something like 'disgusting' or 'fat' or 'pig' or 'fucking gross' or something like that under his breath, anytime he knew I would be able to hear him. Then, it would be him not letting me walk anywhere. Soon, it wasn't just him. A couple other boys- specifically his best friend, who'll be named Luke, and a very gullible boy who I'll call Mark. 

Then, in Sixth grade, I had to deal with people coming up behind me and strapping my bra staps agains my back. They started to target my best friends also, who I will call Jane and Mary. Mary was exceptionally good at shrugging it off and not letting it bother her. They stopped being totally jerks to her after a while.

Sixth grade when worse insults arrived. 'Bitch', 'dyke', 'freak', and things i'd really rather not repeat over the internet. 

Jane and I weren't so good at doing what Mary did- Jane got angry and I got sad. I started going to the principal in sixth grade, and I couldn't count the times I cried. More than once I day I would lock myself in a bathroom stall and cry for a moment, wait just long enough for my eyes to stop being red, and then I would leave.

Guess what I got when I would tell the principal, or the teachers?

'Boys will be boys.'

'We'll do what we can.'

'We're going to handle it.'

And guess what happened, every single time?

Absolutely frikkin nothing.

In seventh grade is when it got really bad. I was made fun of for not going out with a boy, even though I was still only 12 or so. People stole my things, like my notebook or things important to me, and I would find them a bit later with pages missing, or the entire thing scribbled over. I found notes in my locker more than once, saying awful things. When I dared to get mad, I'd find pads and tampons in my locker- 'Oh, she must be on her period, thats why she's being such a bitch.'

In seventh grade, every single boy in my grade hated me. But John still hated me the most. He pushed me, tripped me, made fun of me for not being able to keep up in gym, called me fat, ugly, disgusting, gross, hideous, told me I was a bitch every chance he could. And then, the kicker- for whatever reason, he resorted to call me a whore and a slut.

Then, last year, the worst happened.

By this time, I'd been to the principal COUNTLESS times, I'd told teachers what was happening COUNTLESS times, and it still happened, EVERY DAY.

I couldn't go to school without crying now. I couldn't go home without crying, either. I couldn't do shit without wanting to die. 

Now may be a good time to explain that I had always wanted to be an actress, and the skills I had picked up made it INSANELY easy to pretend like nothing was wrong, no matter who asked or how much I wanted to just jump off of a building or something.


Okay. Now, in eight grade, I'm not gonna lie, I was probably genuinely depressed. I was good at hiding it, and still had a lot of up days, so that helped a bit. It was 'usual' now for me to be called a bitch, for me to not feel safe in my school, for me to break down crying in the middle of class now. It gets so hard to even take a tiny insult after it's happened for six or seven years. 

'You're so stupid!'

'You're never going anywhere'

'You're so fat, who would like you?'

'Stupid bitch.'

'Get out of my face.'

'No one likes you.'

'I hate you.'

No one likes you. No one likes you. no one likes you, taryn.

Then, someone magically got my phone number- let the death threats role in.

'You're a loser, no one likes you.'

'Why don't you just go drown?'

'Just go die.'

'I'll kill you, no one likes you.'

'Just go fucking die.'

'You disgust me.'


I think I cried for almost a day straight. I had to be pulled out of class because I was crying to much, and eventually I had to tell them what had happened. Absolutely jack SHIT happened about that, though- well. I shouldn't say nothing happened. The people who did it got half a day detention and had to clean with the janitors. But guess what happened after that? 


I'm just so glad that no one knew about my sexuality, because I would have never heard the goddamned END of that. No one except me nows about it, anyhow. 

I'm currently dreading going back to school in two weeks. I think school might be the end of me.

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