The Inglorious Years They Call High School

Eighth Grade

Two years ago everything fell apart. I crumbled and my parents are just getting past the financial stress because of it. My brother moved away because of it. I still haven't told anyone this. But here we go.

It started in 8th grade, people were calling me terrible names "fat, whore, stupid, ugly, bitch, ranger". I was quiet for a while, I began to blend with the walls, no one noticed me, no one noticed the hours I'd spend in class on my blog, no one would noticed that my grades were in fact top of the grade, no one noticed anything. My teachers actually forgot my name. All this because I dated the wrong guy for a week. All this because that guy wanted a 'public relationship'.

But when the bullying stopped, being completely un-noticed actually felt worse. So in the last quarter I decided to 'reappear'. I started doing my hair nicely and I started wearing a bit of makeup and I even got re-sized for my bra's (DD apparently). I was noticed, very quickly actually. Teachers remembered my name, girls whispered about me in the halls envious almost, boys, well boys acted like boys.

 I had friends, well if you could call the people that pretended to like me for no reason at all other then to keep an eye on their boyfriends.

That ofcourse didn't last either and I was almost thankful for it. Almost. Because then certain girls got a little too jealous for their taste and decided to spread rumors. Terrible rumors. Rumors that have ruined careers, rumors that caused my family to need a lawyer after these rumors reached the police. Most of it turned out okay but because of a couple of those girls, girls who pretended to be my friends, my family has suffered irepairable damage.

After all that, it was Christmas. My mother loves it and so I do too, the joy is infectious, but not that year. We were broke, my brother didn't talk to any of us and I couldn't stand the sight of myself anymore. I guess I became depressed, I wouldn't know really I never went to a doctor. I didn't sleep, couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't go from one room to another without thinking how to kill myself. But after a while, I stopped blaming myself so much, it was my fault yeah maybe, but my family still loved me but they understood why it happened andthey didn't blame me.

By the end of the summer I had attempted suicide 3 times and I had no friends. But I had also begun blogging again, I had a video blog and I had a job to help my parents. I was just like any other 14 year old girl.