To who ever cares,

12.5

I wasn’t a normal 12 year old girl. I didn’t want my boobs to grow, I didn’t want boys to notice me, I didn’t wear make-up and I wore my hair in a ponytail everywhere I went. I was more interested in climbing trees with my big brother than sneaking alcohol with my friends. And for this I was judged.

I really should introduce you to my “friends”. Well you have met Claire, my best friend, but there are still the others. First there were the three Tailor/Taylor/Tayler’s. I had known Tayler since I was a little girl, but we were never that close, she was one of the nicest in the group. Taylor was a swimmer, she and I met at the start of the year, and I never really felt that comfortable around her though, something about her just seemed off. The final Tailor was one of the meanest people I had ever met; she went out of her way to make my life miserable and hated me from the start. Then there was Jane, she was really great, beautiful, an artist, and genuine; it was unfortunate how people can change. Finally there was the A twins. Ashley and Anya. They were very similar to Tailor, teaming up with her to make my life a living hell.

Sounds like a fun group doesn’t it?

As you can imagine I struggled a lot. None of them knew about what I was doing to myself, they didn’t care so they didn’t notice. I was able to cover my arms all the way up to my shoulder in a cross-hatching of scars and not a single soul noticed. Year seven I was focused on my school work and netball. I didn’t want to see the girls from school so I didn’t, I used them to stop me from appearing like a loner, because I really did want friends, it was just that I was terrible at making and keeping them.

It wasn’t only the A twins and Tailor who bullied me, but practically every other student in my year level. I was given horrendous nick names. “Big Foot” and “Dyke” being the most common. I was so depressed I contemplated suicide every single day, but I wasn’t brave enough.

I made one of my worst cuts that year. It was along my hip. My dad had just got some razors sent to our house because he needed them for him work, I took a couple, thinking that because there were a few hundred, he wouldn’t notice and he didn’t. One day I got cornered at school, there were 20 kids; they each had a stone, not large stones, just small ones from the garden. Tailor stepped forward from the group “Hey Big Foot, how’s your day going? We figured that we could brighten it up for you a bit, give you a bit of a celebration.” She threw the first stone, it hit me on the shoulder, to be honest I didn’t even feel it, Tailor was weak and I wasn’t a small girl, I was well muscled from the amount of sport I did. But not everyone in the group was weak. I went home early that day, covered in small bruises. Nobody was home, so I took out one of the razors and locked myself in the bathroom.  I started out with a couple of small cuts on my wrist, things I was used to. They weren’t enough so I took the razor to my left hip. I placed the razor gently on my skin and pulled it from one side to the other, making a large 14cm cut. I cut it again, pressing a bit harder this time, too hard. It started bleeding a lot, more than I had ever bled. I started to freak out. I called my mum begging her to come get me. When she arrived she saw my pants soaked in blood all down the left side. Immediately she grabbed a towel and pressed it against the cut, ignoring the razor left in the sink. She took me out to the car and drove me to the hospital. It required 16 stiches. Mum asked me to go to counselling but I was terrified of talking to someone, I didn’t need someone else judging me. So I promised mum that I wouldn’t cut again, I told her what had happened and she made me swear that if I ever felt like doing it again I had to go talk to her.

No one other than my mum found out about the cut, she didn’t even tell my dad.

I couldn’t play netball for two weeks because of the cut. I didn’t go to school for a month. Claire called occasionally but no one else did.

Why didn’t you notice what I was doing?

Yours insincerely,

Me