I used to be completely normal. There wasn’t anything strange about me at all. I was a normal kid; I liked music, video games, watching television... completely normal. However, once I started high school everything changed. Not for the better; not at all. Let me take you through the deterioration of my mental state.
I started high school in 2003. I joined with a primary school friend, she was my only friend, but one is better than none. No-one in the class spoke to each other for the first few days. We were all 11 and nervous. New people, new school, new timetable... there wasn’t a single thing old. The first few weeks of high school were fine. Yeah I was a first year so the fifth years naturally hated me and made fun of me at every opportunity but they did that to everyone. It all started when one boy two years older than me asked me if I was a goth. I hadn’t even heard the word by this stage so I said no. I researched it and cleared it up that no I wasn’t a goth. I liked the music and yeah I liked the way they dressed more than these tracksuits. I started buying the gothic clothing and black eye make up. It suited the music I listened to, nothing else. I was comfortable. One thing I didn’t know though was that Goths were possibly the most hated thing in my school. Inevitably, I became the most hated thing in my school.
I didn’t understand the fact I was getting ‘bullied’ I just thought they needed something to get them through the day and making fun of me was it. It started with name calling which from the high levels of intelligence in my school never amount to any more than “gothic”. It got worse when half way through the year I discovered I couldn’t see the board clearly. I then became “the specky goth”, I told you; their intelligence was enviable.
During the day wasn’t as bad as I was surrounded by teachers. Authority in their eyes, they tried to act like they didn’t care but deep down no-one wanted a detention. It was the school bus to and from when they got me. Footballs kicked at my head and just generally calling me names. It wasn’t bad but yeah I was upset.
Of course I was. I had done nothing to these people. It was clear I was getting picked on more than anyone else. Later that year my Granda died and that’s when my mental state started fading. I wouldn’t leave my room. I would just sit and play video games until it was bed time and I had to go back to Hell the next day.
My first year of school was difficult. I had one friend, maybe two. I had really good report cards and exam results, which of course made me even more of a target. I won an award for full attendance and academic achievement and that earned me the next layer of hell that I entered when I returned after summer.
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