With going back and forth to hospitals, I missed a lot of school. It wasn't any better than home, I was bullied there worse than ever. I would run to the bathroom and cry and cut so much. And the sad thing was I didn't care. I didn't care if I died right there in the bathroom. My friends turned their backs on me telling me I was nothing but an attention whore, pretending to be depressed for pity. That I cut for people to have sympathy for me, like I was having a good time. But they didn't know. They didn't know anything about what was going on. I have lost my friends, my family, my will to breathe.
After a few more months, my friends started talking to me again but they still bullied me. Things seemed to get better. I got caught up in my classes and passed my SOL's. I only failed gym. Life was finally beginning to fall back into place again. I was still depressed and suicidal but I learned to "cope". I still cut and that was my coping skill. People still said I was only doing it for attention but I just ignored them. I got used to being called "Psycho Slut", "Worthless piece of shit". Sometimes there's nothing you can do about it. Maybe one day, no one will call me those things again.
