Story of A Lost Girl

Part 2

The next school I went to was another public school in another district. Don't ask me how. My mom's smart. She can find just about any loophole - a trick I also have learned. I assumed this was another one of those loopholes. I later found out what happened was labeled as a violent crime, and I was allowed to switch schools because of it.

Either way, I found myself standing near the doorway of a second grade classroom door with a look no seven year old should be able to make. I was scared — terrified. I hovered near the doorway. I was inside, but I awkwardly stared at the other students. I evaluated them. I saw several friend groups - and there was, of course, a popular group that seemed very confident. There were two girls - one who was clearly an introverted Tom boy and another with a very... extravagant personality. They were talking - well more like extrovert was ranting to the introvert. I remember these two as being nice. They were kind. Not really friends, but they weren't outright cruel.

The teacher noticed me quietly standing there. She then lead me to my assigned seat. I was in-between a boy and his friend. They talked over me about all sorts of things - as if I didn't exist. They were my next set of bullies. Let's call them Alex and John. They weren't physically harming me, but they constantly tried to hurt me emotionally. Like making sure I never made friends, and getting me in trouble. They spread rumors about me, and told everyone I got kicked out of my old school. I didn't, but no one wanted to be friends with someone who'd been kicked out of a school, so I was alone. I wouldn't make any friends there. This was the school I was at the longest. I was there for three years - until fifth grade. While I was there, my clumsiness developed into a disorder, and my anxiety became evident. I was diagnosed with several types of anxiety, and a handful of coordination disorders, and PTSD from my previous bullying. I still have night terrors.

I also had my first visit to the Mental Ward when I was eight, and my second when I was ten due to the depressive side of my bipolar.

I graduated elementary school, and then went to a Lutheran school for about half a school year. It went poorly. My blood clotting disorder reared it's ugly head. I got bloody noses every day, and, when playing Cello (which I sucked at epically), my fingers would bleed constantly. After an incident where a teacher called me a retard in front of my homeroom class, I stopped trying. I was scared of people, so I retreated into books and bathrooms. I would hide in the bathroom, reading and skipping school. I was ridiculed for my bipolar - I'd accidentally let it slip.

Then, I had my first asthma attack.

We were running track. I was trying to take a break, but my PE coach was forcing me to keep going. I suddenly found I couldn't breathe. I collapsed on the ground, wheezing, and in pain. It hurt and I was crying. Eventually, I blacked out.

I woke up later, and was told I was kicked out of school. I wound up crying. Despite my friendless status, I'd liked the school. It wasn't a terrible school. I actually liked some of my teachers, and I was hurt that they didn't feel the same.

At the follow up appointments, I was diagnosed with Asthma & Von Willabrand (the blood clotting disorder). My dad tried to explain, but the school wouldn't let me return. While the action was illegal, my parents were in debt and couldn't afford to do anything about it.

I went to a Catholic school after that, but I was unstable. I was terrified and wary of everyone. I wouldn't talk to anyone. I often became unresponsive at my desk. The teachers weren't bad, but the kids were mean. They told me that 'God can't make mistakes. How could he have made you? You're nothing but a demon child.' Though the worst of it was said behind my back. Some people stood up for me, but I was too wrapped up in my own pain to notice others attempts to help me.

I went into depression, and my anxiety worsened. I was constantly afraid of those around me. The worst of it? I couldn't get help, because I was too scared of everyone. I had begun being paranoid. The acting lessons I started when I was four started to be used to hide my pain and the scars on my arms, legs, and side.

After awhile, the school had enough. It wasn't the staff's fault — after all I'd been through, I just wasn't ok. I found out later that the principal felt so bad after she asked me to leave, she took another job. I still feel guilty about that to this day. I feel horrible to know I hurt her and I still don't know how to fix it. Perhaps, it's unfixable. Perhaps, I'll find her again and finally apologize. I don't know.

Then, I was put into the mental ward for the third time. When I got out, I was admitted to a school for troubled kids. Who knew that getting bullied (and, admittedly, into a fight with them a few times), kicked out of two schools, being suicidal, and leaving two others would end with me getting labeled a delinquent? The only thing I really should've been put there for was my skipping school, but it was barely even mentioned.

I don't regret going to that school, though.

Turns out, that school was the best I ever went. It was kinda ironic... the school for the 'bad' kids was actually full of nicer,  better people than the school for the 'nice' kids. It was messed up. I later would hear each student's story through the two years I was there. There ewas one girl - I'll call her Summer - who had a similar experience, but had nearly been stabbed. When she grabbed the knife in self defense, the other girls told the teachers she'd taken it to school. The incident was cleared from her record later, but she still stayed at the school — I assume she had some other struggles. Summer was the closest thing I had to a best friend. Other than her, I mostly kept to myself, but I was acquainted with everyone there. Summer was a great friend - she really cared and didn't mind my odd behaviors - like facing my back to the wall or being in a position where I could see the whole room. I got along well, and things looked better... but I couldn't stay.

It was a school for troubled students. I wasn't troubled - that much had been clear to the teachers from the start. They commented on it. I was anxious, afraid, but I wasn't hurting anyone. I had stopped self harm shortly after I came.

The teachers though, tried to fight the school district on putting me in a big school. That was why I was really there for as long as I was. I had to wait for them to figure out where I was going. My school district wanted me to go to one of the biggest schools in the city. The school I was currently fought it hard. They said I wouldn't make it in a big school, that I was too scared of those around me, and that it would cause a relapse.

The summer came, and I remained at the troubled kids school - as I would until I was out of middle school (2 years and 1/3).