Bullying: It's Not Just The Feeling

By , Middletown, NY
Bullying is not an art form, but a weapon. It cuts away at your heart, ultimately your soul. Death has not come knocking, but yet lives are being taken. Why, you may ask? Because the sense of self doubt and hopelessness that it creates is something that can't be abolished as quickly as it's been absorbed.

Bullying is a thing that educators may not notice, something that parents may remain oblivious to. Even friends may be unaware of what is taking place. It's hidden, too embarrassing to explain and the way to expressing unknown. It's not something that hurts physically, or even mentally, but emotionally, it remains. The words, the actions replay over and over, forevermore in the back of the victim's mind.

My enrollment in a new school had caused my confidence in myself and the world around me to disintegrate. These weren't familiar faces, people I knew by name or could give a label to. I went in open minded, but left as cold hearted as could be. They didn't hit me, they didn't scold me, they didn't see me. They had an airy way about them, myself now deemed inferior. They had gotten a taste of me upon my arrival and then had left me to pick up the pieces once I shattered.

Exclusion could be perhaps one of the worst kinds of bullying. I longed for an outlet, a way to set myself apart from the 1%. I had started off looking to the seas to guide me, but they had left me in the middle of the ocean, to then find my own way back to the shore. I kept to myself, trying to avoid those harsh stares and snorts that came when I was seen.

Music and writing became my outlets. No one could alter them. Never Shout Never stopped me in my tracks whenever I thought of cutting myself. I had wanted to see my blood, to know I was as humane as those around me. Had I not found peace in writing and my addiction, Never Shout Never, who knows where I would be. I remember wanting so badly to disappear, to die.

For these reasons, I ask for people in a similar situation to find their own outlets, a way to cope with their problem. I can't say to speak up, because that wasn't what I had done. I just had wanted to finish school, to get away and be on my own. If you can muster the courage that I hadn't had to tell someone and to reach out, things will get better. This, is one thing I swear is true. It always gets better because before it gets better, it has to get worse.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback