A twisted soul's confessions
The highschool dork
I know that you’re thinking that my life is twisted. I guess you could say that, but there were some good times too. But the bad times have clouded my mind I see nothing good anymore.
One of the worst times I had, was when I was in school. I was one of those kids you’d call a dork, a loner, an emo/goth, well I was on the ‘emo’ side, a strange kid…well you get it now. I was basically an outcast. Well, I couldn’t really blame everyone, I was strange. I had no friends, I wore black and I was mostly in a world of my own. The teachers thought it was ‘just a phase’. They knew nothing. I didn’t need anyone. I was very unapproachable; a perfect target for bullying. Every day after school a group of girls who thought they were ‘cool’- I use the term ‘cool’ very loosely here- would beat me and kick me till they were bored. I felt that I was being punished for being different. No one should ever feel like that. I wouldn’t wish what I went through on anyone.
You know when the teachers tell you to notify them if you’re being bullied? It doesn’t work. I tried notifying them a lot of times, and all they did was give the bullies a warning. After that I would get beaten up twice as much and twice as hard for ratting them out. I couldn’t really tell my parents. They didn’t care. My father, as I said, was always buried in his work and my mum? Well she was always out with one of her ‘lovers’. So as a last resort, I began to harm myself. People say “oh! She’s harming herself because she wants attention.” Or “ugh, what an attention seeker!” I can tell you from experience, it’s nothing like that. It’s somewhat comforting, to see the blood seeping out of you. It’s like it’s the all the problems, it’s like the problems are going away. Yes, we all know that’s not true. But that’s what I felt… (Shudders) I can still hear the insults all the kids threw at me…
“Hey loser, still cutting your wrists?” and stuff like that. It hurts worse than the wound, but I did my best to ignore them. It’s not the kind of thing you want to remember, you know, but you’ve got to be grateful you survived it.
One of the worst times I had, was when I was in school. I was one of those kids you’d call a dork, a loner, an emo/goth, well I was on the ‘emo’ side, a strange kid…well you get it now. I was basically an outcast. Well, I couldn’t really blame everyone, I was strange. I had no friends, I wore black and I was mostly in a world of my own. The teachers thought it was ‘just a phase’. They knew nothing. I didn’t need anyone. I was very unapproachable; a perfect target for bullying. Every day after school a group of girls who thought they were ‘cool’- I use the term ‘cool’ very loosely here- would beat me and kick me till they were bored. I felt that I was being punished for being different. No one should ever feel like that. I wouldn’t wish what I went through on anyone.
You know when the teachers tell you to notify them if you’re being bullied? It doesn’t work. I tried notifying them a lot of times, and all they did was give the bullies a warning. After that I would get beaten up twice as much and twice as hard for ratting them out. I couldn’t really tell my parents. They didn’t care. My father, as I said, was always buried in his work and my mum? Well she was always out with one of her ‘lovers’. So as a last resort, I began to harm myself. People say “oh! She’s harming herself because she wants attention.” Or “ugh, what an attention seeker!” I can tell you from experience, it’s nothing like that. It’s somewhat comforting, to see the blood seeping out of you. It’s like it’s the all the problems, it’s like the problems are going away. Yes, we all know that’s not true. But that’s what I felt… (Shudders) I can still hear the insults all the kids threw at me…
“Hey loser, still cutting your wrists?” and stuff like that. It hurts worse than the wound, but I did my best to ignore them. It’s not the kind of thing you want to remember, you know, but you’ve got to be grateful you survived it.