Bullying is a horrendous thing. It makes a person feel very bad about him/herself. It triggers your inner self to doubt and question what you are capable of doing and achieving. Eventually you’ll start to hate and despise who you think you are. You lose yourself by the words of others. Bullying has been a crucial aspect of my life, it was the cause of of an atrocious roller-coaster part of my life and now that it’s over I’m not afraid to claim that I’m a survivor.
I remember it first started when I was about 12 years old. A boy from my class started to fabricate rumors about me. I still to this day feel confused about why he choose to begin those rumors and if he realized the toll his words and actions would have on my life. Prior to him beginning to bully me, I have never done anything rude or mean to him. He told people that I did and continued to do dreadful things in the bathroom with other people such as molesting them. He also claimed that I write very vulgar insults on the walls of the bathroom. I didn’t take any action in the beginning because I was not comfortable with engaging with this type of conversation. It was not a topic I would normally talk about with people because I felt that it was too embarrassing.
With time I noticed that people began to drift away from me and I was treated as an invisible entity. Depression started to kick in and my self esteem was very low. I started to feel empty and numb . I couldn’t feel anything but hatred and envy. This was not a good feeling, especially for a 12 year old boy. Moreover, I noticed that I had become stiff… a social outcast. I spent that school year alone with no companion like other kids, I was then called the silent boy. More words which began to hurt me. People did not understand who I was and why I began to drift away from everyone. Although, I was always alone and lonely.
As I grew older, I came to realize I had a talent. I began to sing and write lyrics. I found joy in that and an escape from reality. Music gave me an escape from the bullying. More importantly, I decided not to profess what was happening to me to my parents, because at that time I thought I would be called a Mama’s boy and also a coward if I ask for help. I now realized that I was in the wrong.
Anyway, I chose to tell my parents after one whole year and I wish I had done that way earlier. The boy was kicked from school and since I was able to escape his antagonism I was smiling for the first time in a long time.