When I was a little (kindergarten age), I was always the one who kept people entertained. I never second guessed myself with the things I did, because the people around me always seemed to enjoy my company.
I remember in kindergarten that I was so nervous because I really did not know anyone in there nor was I ready to start the big journey. Luckily, my older brother was there to help me with it. Even though we were in different grades and classes, if I needed anything, he was right there to make sure I was okay.
I remember this one instance when I was hungry and I realized that I didn’t have any money. I told my teacher and see tried to calm me down by telling me it was already paid for, but I wonder how it could be when I never paid for it. So she called for my brother who was not that far along and she told him to just calm me down and explain everything to me. After he explained everything to me, I felt relieved and ready to eat.
Once we got into the cafeteria, I was still a little nervous and did not know what to do. I finally went up to the lunch lady and told her my lunch number. After I said that, my teacher was standing on the other side and the lunch lady told me okay.
When she told me that, I was happy. Not only was my breakfast paid for but also my lunch. I thought that since my parents did not give me any money that day, I was not going to eat. But I found out that my parents paid for that whole week. If I would have known that, I would have never caused that big of a scene.
After I sat down with my class, everyone was saying “are you happy now?” My whole response to them was “yes I am.”
Being in kindergarten was a lot of fun. I had the two best teachers in the world and I had some great classmates. But what made my kindergarten year a success was finding and meeting people who shared the same things I did.
If I could go back to kindergarten, I would do it in a heartbeat. That year was one of the most special years to me. I made the best memories that whole year and I still remember them.
I know one of my best memories from kindergarten would be the throw-up boy. Actually, he has a name but I decided not to use it. I can remember this day like it was yesterday.
One day we were in kindergarten and we just got through playing. It was almost time to take our naps but before we could do that, we had to clean up. After we got through cleaning up, our teachers took out our mats and separated the boys from the girls.
When they laid our mats down, everyone just rushed up to their mats and laid down. When we (the boys) were lying down, we were talking. While we were talking, we could notice one of the boys not looking too well. When we all saw him, he threw up out of nowhere.
When he threw up, everyone on our side just got up and moved to the other side with the girls. After they got through cleaning up his mess, nobody could go to sleep. With the smell of the cleaning supplies, we just sat there and talked about it. Even though he did something like that, I was and still am glad to call him a friend.
After I finished kindergarten, I went on to first grade. Being in first grade was almost a struggle to me. Half the people in there, I did not know. I tried my best to fit in with everyone, but it seemed like no one wanted me.
I tried being myself, but it never worked out. I always tried doing nice gestures like bringing candy, making cards, or whatever but I felt like crap.
The teacher who taught me was sometimes nice, but sometimes I felt like she had it in for me.
On down the road, I was battling myself to be something that I was not. In second grade I gave up being different and decided to be me. I started a cheerleading squad with some great friends and I was a reading buddy. Even though I was getting picked on for doing something like that, I felt joy and happiness inside my heart. I knew doing this was something that I was happy about.
After I left that school, I went on to an elementary school. I was happy about the school, but the people inside it were different. I felt like going into that school that everyone would be accepting but I was dead wrong. Everyone who I was friends with was not in my class but we did get to see each other at recess.
I was happy about this school but when I moved up to fourth grade, I felt alone. Being in fourth grade was a huge struggle for me because I felt like everyone was out for me. I think I started feeling a little depressed in this grade. The work the teachers gave us, I could not do, and one day in math I cried my eyes out because I could not do the worksheet he gave us.
I felt so mad at myself because I knew how to do it but I couldn’t do it. Everyone in that class was just staring at me and I could feel people talking about me. That day was the most embarrassing day in that time span.
When I was promoted to go to middle school, I was somewhat skeptical. I was ready to do this but I was driving myself crazy thinking that people would accept me for me.
It was fun at first but down the road, I could not handle it. Being in some of those classes, I felt pressured. I felt like if I wanted to be accepted, I had to do things everyone else was doing. By doing that, I would always get myself in trouble and I would feel horrible about it, but I did not care.
Trying to fit in with everyone else was so easy, but to me I was letting go of everything that made me me. Something that I thought I would never do in my life was I would talked back to teachers. Doing that, I would make everyone else happy and ecstatic, but I knew deep down in my heart that was not me.
Being different was something I could not be while in that school because you would be picked on. I always tried to find my friends to talk to, but they were nowhere to be found. When I finally caught up with them, they knew that I had really changed. They really did not want anything to do with me, but if I wanted to be known, I had to change.
I thought if I changed everything would be peaches and cream, but they were not. I found out that behind my back, people were actually talking about me. When I found out I was so hurt. Hearing the things that I heard about me made me feel so unwanted.
I remember one day going out for recess, some kid in the upper grade came to me and called me a gay. Everyone heard him say but said nothing. I could hear his friends laughing and my classmates talking about it. I knew if I wanted to stay strong, I had to show that it did not bother me.
Acting like that whole situation did not bother me was so crucial. I thought maybe they were joking around, but everybody in the school was talking about it. I had people come up to and ask me the question and I felt so mad. I wanted to hurt everyone who talked about me but I did not care anymore.
The same people who talked about me were my friends as well. I knew if I left them, I would be left standing by myself. I tried to brush everything off and forget but it bothered me so much. I knew that if I confronted anyone of those people, I would be in so much trouble. I never did tell anyone about this, but I think keeping it in made the whole situation a lot worse. I was so happy to finally leave middle and go up to junior high, but that was not a piece of cake either.
When I tried to pretend that nothing happened, it always came back up. I thought that maybe people would just leave it behind, but they stuck with it. People would always come up to me and ask me stupid questions and I tried to ignore it but it was so much to take in.
Just being in that kind of environment made me so depressing that one day I almost took my own life. I knew that the only way to make everything stop was to just die. I tried so much to let it be but the only thing I could hear in my head were people laughing and talking about me.
I wanted to believe like everything was okay, but it wasn’t. The only thing I could think to myself was to just be done with everybody. I knew if I was gone, nobody could hurt me anymore. Being bullied was no laughing matter to me but I wonder why I was the target.
Being this target was so humiliating that something inside me went off. One day I was at home, I could hear all the laughter inside my head and this one voice was saying just do it. I got up off my bed and went to the kitchen and tried to find the sharpness knife I could find. When I found that knife, I went up to side on the freezer and the only thing I could do was cry. I cried so much that I thought maybe my brother could hear and that he would see me but he didn’t.
After I got through crying, I placed the knife on my chest and tried so hard to put it through but I couldn’t. I tried over and over and over and decided that, that would not work. So I tried forcing my body into the knife but failed. I thought to myself that maybe I could cut my wrist open. I tried so many times doing this but never could.
The only thing I could do next was cry. I wanted my life to end that day, but somehow I did not die. When I knew that I failed, I put the knife back where I found it and ran to my room crying. I knew that if I did not die, all the things that I was experiencing would keep on happening.
When I went back to school, I never told anybody about what happened, because I felt like they wouldn’t care. There were sometimes I felt like maybe somebody would listen, but I was wrong.
