Jul 27 2013, 06:45 AM

Again I cried tonight. This sadness is all consuming. Every day I cry, tonight my mother walked in, I blamed my tears on the movie that was on. I can't take this, I hear myself every day echo the words I was told, im too fat, put down my fork, kill myself, im too ugly, im a whore . It's hard, so very, very hard trying to maintain my mask. I think im losing myself, but I'm afraid I already have. The constant remarks from my brothers push me closer to insanity, and have been through so much only to demand the easy way to end my pain. Show no-one my pain. I have before, tried to tell my mother of how sad I was and she pushed it off as my seclusion. I do admit that the recent move has dampened my spirits, I have, however, been sad long before. I have carried my pain since I was 4. My father was and is a drug addict, and when my mother found out she left him and took us. This sent us from upper middle class straight to low poverty, where we are restrained by the chains of money and necessity. Growing up with out a father is hard. The constant reminder of the father I don't have comes every year on fathers day. The fathers day projects I was and am forced to make, in order to get participation points, hurt to give to my mother to be thrown away. Seeing my friends enjoy a doting, protective father brings resentment to me. Each wedding I've been to had little girls stepping on their fathers toes to dance, each 4th of July fathers put their daughters on their necks to see the firework show, every open house, every, movie I watch, every park with families playing ball, every day I have no dad to say goodnight to, drives a shooting pain through me, forcing me to swallow my sorrow, choke on my tears. I look at each one, day dreaming of a father I never had. Only to be brought back to reality with the cold, disappointing realization that I don't have, nor will I ever have, a father. In the 2nd grade I started to get bullied, not harshly but nonetheless. I was excluded from group readings, I would be pushed from the jungle gym. I had made 4 friends though Gabrielle, Darian, Emily, and Jill. I was called horrible names, names that got worse with years. I would vent to gabe, Jill, and darian. Every day I was pushed to the back of the lunchline, pushed to the ground. Then came the new school because elementary and bullying got worse, 3rd grade and my bullies found out the joy in lying. Every Damn day, i was made fun of. I tried to escape through reading, my teach one day came to me and said, stop trying you can't read. 4th grade Darian and Emily were no longer my friends. I had gained a new friend named jakie. The bullying continued daily. I would die inside each day, and now I can hardly believe I still have a pulse. I had started to believe their words. Fat, ugly, whore, bra stuffer, bitch, and many more. I would never cry in front of them though. I would wait until night when I was alone and I would cry myself to sleep. In 5th grade the physical bullying started. I would be beaten up and teachers turned a blind eye. I would hide it from my mother, unsure of how to tell her. I went to gabe, Jill, and jakie fir help. I don't know why, all they could do was give me hollow supportive words. I was beaten ever other day, I would pick myself up dust myself off and wipe away the blood. I tried to stop it at first, but all attempts were in vain. I finally accepted it, that I couldn't escape. I put up a brave face, smiled to the teachers, my family, and even my friends. I stopped telling them when it happened they already knew what was happening. They would take my back pack and dump it out and throw it down. I felt like nothing I was nothing , I am nothing. 6th grade started, a new school, middle school, and I got hope, small hope, but hope. Like a small glow of a lighting bug on a dark night. The school had a step up program, it was supposed to have kids going looking for and stopping bullying. I was bullied still, there was one who bullied me more harshly than the rest all the way from 2nd grade, ill call her Jenny, its not her real name, she doesn't deserve recognition. I would pray and pray and wish, hope, dream that a person from step up would see. They didn't. One day in the bathroom, Jenny hit me, a person n from step up walked in, Jenny hit me again. I looked her in the eye, bracing the wall, cupping my face. She turned around, and walked through the door, and Jenny proceed to hurt me. In that moment I truly understood those who contemplated suicide. The small glow snuffed out, the bug squashed, my dream of help shattered. I was consumed by the sickening blue of selfpity. I contemplated suicide daily. I resented those commercials about "stop bullying" because they never helped. My bully or her friends didn't suddenly say, "I saw a commercial so I'll stop, lets go sit together and enjoy this day! " every organization against bullying I want to take the hollow, meaningless words spewed form the lie coated lips of the arrogant, self-righteous members and shove them so far down their throats that they get constipated, aspirate, choke ,and die. The only reason those groups exist is so people can put on a resume or transcript, that they care about the betterment of society, when in reality they have never helped anything except their own greedy egos! In the 7th grade I finally cried in front of my mother and told her. All she did was show me an anti bullying add! I went to a teacher that year, he only sat us across the room from eachother. I finally went to the principle, all she did was change my classes,wwhich didn't help, lunch, break, and after school I was beaten still. I had given up, suicide seemed like a walk through the park, it still does. I had then cried my last tear. The well had dried up, and what was left was a white hot rage at the bottom of my hollow soul. I had exhausted the use of my sadness. All I could envision for my future was death. Each day through the year of 7th grade, each name, word or comment was like a brick, building my anger. By the end of the year I was filled to the brim in anger. That anger sat there over the summer, festering and fermenting getting stronger like wine. By the beginning of 8th grade she continued to bully me, by the 2nd week my rage spilled over, and I beat the hell out of her. I poured every ounce of hate into her beating, I threw out morals, I had lost myself in that moment. After that, I was empty, empty of happiness, she took it. empty of sadness, she caused me to cry it out. Empty of anger, because I had used it all. 8th and 9th grade passed without incident,. I, a shell, a puppet, went through the motions pulled by the strings of society. I am truly, wholly, totally, completely, and irreversibly depressed. I am depressed to the full extent of the word. I have been depressed every day since I was 4, over a decade. 11 years of sadness,. 11 years of unanswered prayers. Unfulfilled wishes, shattered hopes, and crushed dreams. I don't know how else to feel, I have made familiarity in shelter of depression. I built me a home on the hills of sorrow. A fortress in the valley of the shattered. I want to die. I no longer know who I am, I look in the mirror and see a stranger, a hideous stranger. I now understand all those songs. I am in a hypothetical hole incapable of clawing my way out. And now after so long, im unsure if I want to. I am unfelt, unheard, and unseen by those around me. Misunderstood. No one should exist like this. I moved away from my true friends gabe and Jill. Friends that have been with me through all of this. They will never know the role they played in my life. I can honestly say I loved them. And now moved from them, I am empty of love. I have inflicted pain on myself over and over to check if im still consciously alive and not, intead, in hell. I have run out of hidden places to scar, and have moved to those that can be seen. I changed my style to distract people from my cuts that can now be seen. I have stopped eating regularly, and now I don't sleep. I am withering away in the wind of those words that echo in my mind. Fat, ugly, slut, liar, alone, die. I can't be saved. I would ask for help if I haven't already tried. Just another day in my eternity.