Things can be twisted if we want. Even though I am twenty three, my past is full of wild and spontaneous adventures. Most of these stories are kept a secret and only few know. My life may be more "boring" now, but at this point, I know I have lived fully and journeyed farther than some. There are many places or events waiting to be seen by the hazel eyes lying on my face. A beauty mark to be thankful for but sadly, still have the courage to call myself ugly.
My reputation is predicted and most have one single thought and idea of who I am. Rumors and gossip have played a part in these accusations. Only me, myself, can know exactly who I am, who I was and who I want to be. The most important thing is to know and believe that; and not let another person determine that.
Right now, I am pretty content in life. That isn’t always enough. I want to do more and know so much more can be done. Risks and chances were took that got me to the place I am now. The stories and past presented before me, are some of the worst but most meaningful times in my life. They made me who I am today and who I dream to be.
Depression is something that has come close to defining me. It is an enormous part of my journey that I used to ignore, or even take advantage of.
“I think a big reason I stopped crying so much is because no one cared.”
I want, need and feel I have an obligation to explain depression, my sadness and who I am in the best way I can express. Because again. You will never fully understand until you have been through this yourself.
Up until six grade. I was a bully. I did not have a concept of what it felt like to have your feelings hurt and the impact words and actions can have on others. I can vividly remember making innocent people feel like they were not enough and that they were not worth my or other peoples time. My sole purpose was to be popular and in charge. I craved the feeling of knowing my “friends” almost worshiped me and knowing I was in control of their actions with a consequence to come if rules were not followed.
After 6th grade, things began to change. My parents and I made the decision to switch schools because of the positive outcome a Charter school near me obtained. I soon realized that I was not the only person in the world. I did not have a group of people following me and agreeing to the decisions I would make daily. Instead, I developed feelings for boys and constant attention from friends I made. In return, I started to be bullied. Boys would make fun of me. They would call me an Owl and say I had lazy eyes. The hallway and classroom were filled with their eyes staring at me, ready to make contact with mine, so they could purposely make fun of me, making my body hurt, inside and out.
“What is wrong with me?”, I would ask myself. “Why are they making fun of me?” “Am I really that ugly and weird?”
When lunch time came around, I would ask my friends for their lunch boxes. A wall would be built around my food and I with them, in the hopes no one would see me eating. Most of the time, I was not embarrassed of what I was eating, but the judgement of making a mistake or doing something weird that I would be made fun of for.
Truthfully. This started in middle school in about second grade when I was made fun of for having an “Arrthurs themed” juice box. From then on out, I would make walls around my food and I so no one could see me and I could not be bullied for any mistake I made.
7th grade was a pretty hard year for me. After switching schools and constantly being picked on, I decided I had had enough. One weekend, my parents were in California where the plan was to be picked up on Friday from school from someone taking care of me and meet them up there. This is just one of my crazy first stories that I have to tell you.
I woke up that morning, unsure of how I felt, knowing I did not want to go to school. I did not want to spend a day sad, crying, worrying and being bullied. I thought about any way I could stop from going there. Maddy told me it was time to go and head off to school. As she got in the drivers seat of my dads car, I slowly sat myself down in the passengers seat, holding back tears. I prayed to God I would not have to live through this day.
When she pulled into the school parking lot, my stomach sank and I was lost at what to do. It was time to get out of the car and head to class.