But You Don't Care, Do You?

This Is My Story

I used to be happy, I remember. When I was little, I was the happiest little girl ever. I loved playing with dolls and barbies, I loved going swimming, I loved running around in the back yard, I loved helping my mom with laundry and gardening and cooking. I loved helping my dad with the farm, helping him with the cows and riding in the tractor with him and going hunting. I was all smiles, and I didn't let anything ruin my mood. I was loving life.

Then we moved. We left our farm in Kansas and moved to Washington where my dad had gotten a job. My parents sent me off to a private school where I was constantly picked on and made fun of. My parents didn't know this of course because I didn't tell them. I didn't let it bother me too much.

My parents started fighting a lot after we moved. My dad would work late into the evenings, then come home, tired and pissed off about whatever had went wrong that day at work. And the only thing he knew to do was drink take it out on us. Well, mainly me because I was the oldest. I never told anyone about this either, for fear my dad would possibly kill me.

Eventually my parents decided to put me into public school, so that's where I went. My dad immediately put me in volleyball, saying I needed to lose weight and this was a great way to do so. He also signed me up for three fitness classes all year round. I didn't make any friends my first year of public school because I was new and didn't fit in anywhere. The only way people knew me was because of sports, and even then I still didn't fit in. I ended up playing basketball and softball as well, and my dad kept telling me that it would all help me lose weight.

But all that time, I didn't let it get to me. I brushed it off and got back up again. I was strong, I wasn't going to let someone else tell me who I was. I took all the hurtful things that were said to me and pushed them far away. I was still happy.

And then, eighth grade year, I broke. All those hurtful things came crashing back to memory, and my dad was getting worse. I was bullied in school, being pushed into lockers and teased and made fun of, and being cornered in the girls locker room while they all shouted at me, telling me I was a fat ugly whale, a waste of space, worthless. I became depressed, and I couldn't look in the mirror without seeing a fat ugly girl staring back. I stopped wearing color and turned to blacks and grays. I didn't wear short sleeved tshirts anymore, but rather sweatshirts and long sleeves. I avoided people everywhere I went, trying to fade into the background, not wanting to be seen. I started cutting, and it became an addiction. The feeling of the blade against my skin, the feeling of the blood running down my legs and arms, it all gave me an escape from the pain I got from home and at school. My blades became my best friends.

This is my story.