September is National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. In honor of that and in honor of To Write Love On Her Arms campaign, I want to share with you a story. My story.
“Have a great day, smile!” my dad would yell out the car window every day as he drove off. I’d flash him a smile then return back to my blank face. I was about to enter my living hell. Every new day came with a new insult. Things like: “You’re so fat,” “All your friends just pity you,” “I can not believed that you left your house looking like that” were statements I heard every day.
The voice behind these comments was a cheerleader. She was the ideal body type, not too short, not too tall. She was skinny, and constantly changed her hair color. She was my greatest fear. I tried to avoid her at all cost, but to no avail. I could not ever seem to free myself of her reign of terror.
My self-confidence plummeted. I was not sure that life was ever going to get better. Any thought that was remotely positive about me, I thought was a lie. I did not want to die, but I wanted everything that I was to die. I wanted every trace of who I was to disappear. Every day was this constant battle of who I was and who I wanted to be. I’d dream that there was place where I would stop self-loathing and binge eating. I dreamed that one day, I’d have friends and feel worthy of the love I so badly craved.
I believed that I had no friends, so I began to eat lunch in the bathroom. The bullying got worse and so did my lunch circumstances. She began physically hurting me; punching, kicking, tripping. Teachers saw, they said they’d write her up but there was nothing that was ever done. Meanwhile, I began not eating lunch at all, and when I got home I’d binge eat.
During this time, I also discovered a love for writing. Within writing, I found peace in the chaotic world around me. I felt that it was the one thing I could depend on.I felt that my pencil and paper would be there whenever I needed it. I was not afraid to say or do anything. Writing was where I could show my heart, who I was. When I was writing , I felt untouchable, almost like no one could bring me down, even my greatest fear. In writing, I found healing. It was almost as if every word I wrote somehow bandaged my aching heart.
I’ll never know why the cheerleader choose me as her target of all this torture, but if given the choice, I would not change it. The bullying made me stronger. It taught me to be bold, and to stand up for myself and others. It gave me a passion. I want people to help people who are going through rough times and chaos know that their time is not up just yet. I’m currently a psychology major at Texas State University, I plan to one day work for a non-profit and help others.
And so I kept living… to one day show others that they can too.