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Everyday, I dreaded going to school. The way she treated me made me want to disappear into thin air. The thing that made the pain sear deeper was that she was my “friend.” This went on for two years before it stopped. I stuck it out, but two years was too long. No one should have to suffer for that long. I guess good things come to those who wait, but sometimes I wonder if it was worth the constant suffering, then I remember, it was totally worth it. It stopped when we changed from elementary to junior high, and to my relief, she wasn’t in my class. For you to fully understand, we’re going to need to start from the beginning.
Hello. I’m a twelve year old girl. In grade 4, I was told i had anxiety issues and should go see a psychiatrist. So I did. Everything went well. Life was good. I had a loyal group of friends, good grades and a loving family. I continued to see this doctor, and my anxiety was improving. Grade 5 started. Little did I know, when I started the school year, the next two years of my life would be a living hell. It all started when one of my close friends, let’s give her the name Jane, started to ignore me for no reason. Poor, little, innocent me had never had anything happen like this to me, so my anxiety got worse. None of my friends knew what was happening, but I had a feeling she knew what she was doing to me. She would ignore me for an hour. Then a day. Then a week. When she wasn’t ignoring me, I was her puppet. I would do anything to not go through that again. No matter what, it still happened. First it was just ignoring. Then dirty looks from across the classroom whenever I raised my hand to speak. I refused to speak, just to not get those looks. I rarely spoke. After, it was looks for no reason. Just as I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. She started talking about me behind my back. Word got around. Words hurt. One day in the spring of grade 5, I stayed home one day after being tormented by her for a week. I refused to leave, tears rolling down my cheeks. I began to see the doctor more. Out of the blue, Jane would stop. I couldn’t bring up what mental pain she had just caused me, because I couldn’t risk it. I went back to being her puppet.
Grade 5 ended. Summer came. Jane had targeted others, in fact, everyone in our little group. We couldn’t just ditch her. It didn’t work that way, we all knew that. We had to continue to live in our own torture chamber. My anxiety got worse as grade 6 started. Then some OCD kicked in. I don’t think my parents ever found out about the OCD. They probably don’t even know as I’m writing this. I developed little “habits” let’s say. I believed that if I did them, Jane wouldn’t bully me. Of course, she still did, but my brain failed to register this. It started with wearing the same shirt every Wednesday. Then what I would eat after school. What to do with my hair everyday (ponytail and headband every single day). No matter what my mind believed, she would still torment me. I never found out why, and I don’t think I ever will. November of grade 6, Jane took it to the extremes. She ignored me, dissed me, and gave me looks for about a month straight. Over my birthday. I remember crying on my birthday in my bedroom, not wanting to go to school, my mom comforting me, telling me to stop, but not actually doing anything about the issue. We eventually “made up”. Don’t get me wrong, it still went on. The “habits” got worse, more dangerous. No one knew how bad it got. It reached a new extreme. I would throw up whatever I ate for breakfast, every school morning, because I was so stressed out. Only my parents knew about this. Every morning from April to June. I guess my mental health finally took a toll on my physical health. The anxiety and OCD left me going to school hungry, but not able to eat. The last few months of elementary school was hell. I just wanted to get away from her. I finally did. I think it was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I still have slight anxiety issues, but I don’t need to see anyone anymore, and I managed to lose the OCD, and now I eat my breakfast every morning, and it stays down. Now without her in my life and my OCD, I can finally be myself.
I know that everyone goes through things like this, but some people always feel alone. I just want you to know that you’re not alone. Try seeing someone, or just listening to some music where the artist gets you. Stay strong.
Hello. I’m a twelve year old girl. In grade 4, I was told i had anxiety issues and should go see a psychiatrist. So I did. Everything went well. Life was good. I had a loyal group of friends, good grades and a loving family. I continued to see this doctor, and my anxiety was improving. Grade 5 started. Little did I know, when I started the school year, the next two years of my life would be a living hell. It all started when one of my close friends, let’s give her the name Jane, started to ignore me for no reason. Poor, little, innocent me had never had anything happen like this to me, so my anxiety got worse. None of my friends knew what was happening, but I had a feeling she knew what she was doing to me. She would ignore me for an hour. Then a day. Then a week. When she wasn’t ignoring me, I was her puppet. I would do anything to not go through that again. No matter what, it still happened. First it was just ignoring. Then dirty looks from across the classroom whenever I raised my hand to speak. I refused to speak, just to not get those looks. I rarely spoke. After, it was looks for no reason. Just as I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. She started talking about me behind my back. Word got around. Words hurt. One day in the spring of grade 5, I stayed home one day after being tormented by her for a week. I refused to leave, tears rolling down my cheeks. I began to see the doctor more. Out of the blue, Jane would stop. I couldn’t bring up what mental pain she had just caused me, because I couldn’t risk it. I went back to being her puppet.
Grade 5 ended. Summer came. Jane had targeted others, in fact, everyone in our little group. We couldn’t just ditch her. It didn’t work that way, we all knew that. We had to continue to live in our own torture chamber. My anxiety got worse as grade 6 started. Then some OCD kicked in. I don’t think my parents ever found out about the OCD. They probably don’t even know as I’m writing this. I developed little “habits” let’s say. I believed that if I did them, Jane wouldn’t bully me. Of course, she still did, but my brain failed to register this. It started with wearing the same shirt every Wednesday. Then what I would eat after school. What to do with my hair everyday (ponytail and headband every single day). No matter what my mind believed, she would still torment me. I never found out why, and I don’t think I ever will. November of grade 6, Jane took it to the extremes. She ignored me, dissed me, and gave me looks for about a month straight. Over my birthday. I remember crying on my birthday in my bedroom, not wanting to go to school, my mom comforting me, telling me to stop, but not actually doing anything about the issue. We eventually “made up”. Don’t get me wrong, it still went on. The “habits” got worse, more dangerous. No one knew how bad it got. It reached a new extreme. I would throw up whatever I ate for breakfast, every school morning, because I was so stressed out. Only my parents knew about this. Every morning from April to June. I guess my mental health finally took a toll on my physical health. The anxiety and OCD left me going to school hungry, but not able to eat. The last few months of elementary school was hell. I just wanted to get away from her. I finally did. I think it was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I still have slight anxiety issues, but I don’t need to see anyone anymore, and I managed to lose the OCD, and now I eat my breakfast every morning, and it stays down. Now without her in my life and my OCD, I can finally be myself.
I know that everyone goes through things like this, but some people always feel alone. I just want you to know that you’re not alone. Try seeing someone, or just listening to some music where the artist gets you. Stay strong.
