The Outcast
Sep 20 '00
When I was a little girl, I was The Outcast. I'm not quite sure how it happened; it started in kindergarden. Some people say I was just smart, and it creeped other kids out. Some people say I was moody.
In second grade, one girl decided to pinpoint me as her arch-enemy, and bullied me constantly. At one point, I was swinging across the monkey bars. She started across from the other side, and purposefully blocked me when I tried to navigate around her. Then she jumped down, yelled incessantly about how I made her fall, and proceeded to pull at my legs. She ended up pulling down my pants, in front of the whole jeering, laughing flock of schoolkids. Oh, you know how nice kids can be.
In third grade, I started a little club. Save The Animals, (S.T.A.). I was very concerned about saving endangered animals. I refused to do anything but draw posters about how the animals should be saved; schoolwork was secondary. This was a matter of life and death! I already liked animals a lot better than people. Once word spread about the club, a lot of kids joined, but then, a lot of kids laughed at me in the hall. One girl in particular used to shout "Save the animaaaaaals!" at me in the hall, mocking me. It seems like girls can actually be a lot meaner than boys sometimes. Boys hit you a couple times, or say something really rude, but girls will find something important and latch on, claws and all.
That same year, the suicide threats started.
It wasn't until fourth grade that it got serious, and I started making attempts. Out of the grace of God, I had no clue how it was done.
My teacher in fourth grade was a sexist jerk, who'd let the boys throw things around constantly, and send the girls to the principal's office if they whispered about something.
My best friend told me I was too clingy; she wanted to play over there now.
Now, I guess school wasn't my main problem. It was stuff at home. My mother was a raging alcoholic, my father a hopeless heroin addict, and I had to go between catching my mother with other men, and rubbing my father's back while he threw up into the toilet. I turned into the mommy.
I nurtured, and comforted, and loved my own way into an early grave. I cried all the time. Nothing was going right.
Middle school was even worse. I had no friends there. The same group of people that once called me "clingy" told me that I didn't have friends because I "pushed them away" too much. I got sexually harrassed, which was fun. The one good thing was meeting a cool artist girl who was really too cool for me. (She never acted like it, she was really sweet; you can just kinda tell for yourself when you're not in someone's league)
I guess I have to say, if things are going terribly at home, like this, your child is going to love self esteem, and esteem in others. They'll be in hell. Try talking to your unhappy kid. Find out why they're so unhappy. If you can help, do so, and if you can't, find someone who can. In school, I used to scream, throw things, and at a younger age, bite my teachers. I was very literally screaming for help...and nobody heard me. I was a "bad kid".
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Epinions.com ID:
GuideAngel
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Member: Amee F.
Location: Seattle, WA,
Reviews written: 13
Trusted by: 3 members
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