My life has been anything but normal. I've faced so many hardships including bullying. My dad is a marine, which makes me a military brat. Sometimes I enjoy this, but I haven't enjoyed it lately. Lets see... where to begin?

I was born in South Carolina, moved to VA, then California. That's when I guess we knew I was unique. I was always an oddball. Different from thee rest. Not a lot of people liked me, but I was outgoing and I wanted everyone to like me. The real bullying didn't start until 3rd grade there. I had a group of girls always ganging up on me. I wasn't thee prettiest, I was weird and I just wanted to be every one's friend. I gave my all to have everyone like me. But it didn't work out so well. I went home and cried because not everyone liked me..
I moved to Rhode Island for Fourth grade and things just got worse. Nobody there liked me, I started becoming sheltered and reserved. I didn't share my feelings or my thoughts. I grew farther apart from my parents. I thought of suicide, of cutting. Then we moved back to Virginia. Things only got worse there. I had people bullying me. I didn't have any good friends, nobody liked me there and I just kept feeling worse. 5the grade-7the grade was a disaster I think. Many times I thought of suicide and ways to hurt myself, but I never actually got to doing it.

8the grade I moved to North Carolina. I thought that everything would be okay, but it was a Topsy turvy year. I tried to cling to any person I could as my friend. I didn't have many friends and I had people who hated me within thee first 2 weeks. I thought my life was over. I cried I wanted to go back to Virginia even though I didn't belong there either. The only thing that kept me going was my new dance studio and all thee people there that treated me like I was their family. 8the grade went by and 9the grade approached. I hoped 9the grade would be better. It started off pretty good, but then went spiraling downward. I had a teacher who hated me, and he constantly put me down in class. People were making fun of me and I was a wreck. My dad's deploying in February and I was a nervous wreck about that. Since I have OCD and anxiety, I stress about things and think that the worst possible thing will happen. Finally everything since 3rd grade broke. I cut my wrist with my razor. It cut deep. I thought that it would help me, and for a while, when I was cutting, it felt better. The after affect was not so delightful. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't let my parents hear. They had no idea. When they found out I was almost taken to the hospital, but my mom refused to let me go. I did it another time to feel that again, but I decided it wasn't worth it. I've thought of it since. The sensation it brought me, but then I think of how much it hurt and I think that if I ever did it again they'd have to take me to the hospital. I can't leave my mom alone at this time. I will not do it for her....


That's my story