INSIDE MY HEAD
August 16, 12
It’s an effort to write these things down. I can’t talk with anybody. Even my best friend doesn’t know about this, I am not best at talking about things so I am just penning it down because I need to get this thing out of me.
Some things are painful to remember. Though it was a long time back, those memories are not something I like to recall. My childhood is not something I enjoyed.
As a kid I was kind of shy, a little different. I liked to have friends but they weren’t really ready to accept me as I was. It’s not that I didn’t compromise, I did but nobody tried to give me some time.
In my school I was bullied. It got worse as I grew up. I was a good kid in the eyes of the parents but it’s their kids that I had to spend all the time with and they didn’t like me. I thought it was just a phase and it would pass off, but it didn’t. It got worse.
In the class I wished that the teacher would come in quickly so that the bullying would end. I, who at one point of time loved school wanted to go there no more, I started hating school.
Tried to tell my parents about all of it but they thought I was strong enough to get through it alone. They asked me why I was taking it so seriously. They told me again and again that they were my friends and why would they hurt me. There was no hope, no one whom I could ask for help. I felt like it never was going to end. Always felt inferior to others though I was pretty good at studies and stuffs.
I won’t lie; the thought of committing suicide did cross my mind once or twice. It seemed a better option than enduring the pain for god knew how long. I was depressed. Kind of lonely. I thought of talking to a psychiatrist, but I would have needed to ask the money from my parents, and they would think I am a freak. I stopped doing things I loved to do, because everything I did was made fun of by other people.
Sometimes I would dream of some miracle where I was the hero and they respected me rather than laughing at me, but they were just dreams and it stayed that way.
As I grew I started keeping to myself because I got paranoid. I knew not all guys were bad but I was so deeply hurt that I couldn’t share anything with my friends, even a little secret because deep down I thought they would be laughing behind my back. I still remember the nights I didn’t sleep, couldn’t sleep. I remember staring at the walls ahead and wondering how could God hate me so much.
I waited for school to end. I waited for all of this to end and finally it ended. The day school was over I was relieved. I saw some kids being sad, but I wasn’t.
I wanted to go as far away from that place as possible. I chose a college that was very far away, didn’t maintain any contact with that place for a long time. I remember the day I joined my new college, I was very nervous but as time passed by I felt good. I kept to myself but these new people were kind and helpful. They gave me what I needed the most at that moment, time.
Things started to get better, the effect of depression started to wear off. I kind of started liking college again, opening myself slowly to all that which was patiently waiting for me. Things got better as I moved on, I was slow but happy.
For the last few years, I have never been happier. And as I look back upon my childhood, I don’t feel anger towards the ones who did this to me. I still talk with some of them once or twice a year. I feel kind of sad, because I lost a lot of years regaining what I once was, though I am not completely what I could have been. Even now, I couldn’t speak of my feelings with total ease like I see others do. I tried so hard to project myself as someone tough that I have forgotten what it is to feel tears flow down your cheeks. Never cried since I was twelve. I lost a lot of things, the thrill of sharing a secret with a friend, the happiness when some friends say that they will be there for you.
Yet what has passed has taught me a lot. When you learn something it hurts a lot. I now feel I know life a lot better than I did earlier. Now I know what it means to be sad and that one’s pleasure can be the reason of tears of others. I know to think of what pain I might be causing to others before I act, it taught me to be sensitive and be a better person in all. I learned to do what justifies my conscience and not care about what other’s think. I don’t feel inferior now, may be you can say I am not of the competitive type anymore. Still, there’s a part of me that’s blocked. I hope that it gets better; I hear time’s a good healer.
This post is a work of fiction. I have read stories of kids being bullied in school; it leaves a mark on them even if they don’t realize it. In some extreme cases there has been attempt at suicides. This post is just to lay down how I think they might feel, and if you can in any way help them, then please don’t turn your back to those hopeful eyes, you might be the angel they were waiting for.