This blog made me thing about my early childhood. You see I moved to where I live now and was bullied from Year 3 onwards. I’ve read a lot about bad memories so I wanted to try and think about where I used to live, maybe get some positivity back in my life (and on this blog).

First three things I think of: accidentally being pushed off a swing; impaling myself and moving to the North.

So yeah, my Dad accidentally pushed me off a swing when I was only 3. I wanted to prove how much of a big boy I was by using the swing without the safety bar. My Dad is still upset with himself for that, I turned 17 in July. It wasn’t his fault. I hope he eventually realises this.

I impaled myself at 4 and a half. It had to have been about that time ‘cause we were out collecting frog spawn at my Infants School (it had a small nature/pond area). We had to go around and if we saw frog spawn we had to get the teacher and she’d help us get it out. Well me and my friend Nick were wandering around and this grass-snake slithered out. He was terrified and ran. I ran after him, trying to tell him it was harmless. There was this little log that was being used as a bridge, Nick ran straight across it; I didn’t. I slipped fell and impaled myself on it. I remember the horror in my Mum’s eyes as she saw me with that hole in my chest. I was lucky though, somehow I didn’t pierce any vital organs.

Then leaving to move North. I sat on the front garden with the girl who lived next door. Her name’s Charlotte. We sat there and made daisy chains. And I told her how we’d probably be back soon anyway ‘cause the North is “stinky”. I didn’t speak to her again until last year.

But then I started thinking more. And some different memories filtered through: potato salad; fireworks; crabs and planes.

I’m known in my house as a bit of a potato salad nut. In case anyone doesn’t know what that is it’s boiled and cooled potatoes with mayonnaise/salad cream on it. And I know where that reputation comes from. There was a summer party on in Charlotte’s back garden. I can’t remember why but there was a party and they’d set out a load of tables with a kinda help yourself buffet going on. And at one point there was this huge bowl of potato salad on the table. I went and stole it then sat under the table and just ate the whole bowl with Charlotte. That is a memory that makes me very happy.

Two houses down from where I used to live, every year on Guy Fawkes Night, there was a house. There were two lads who lived there: one my age, one who was 13ish. I can’t remember their names but we’d go there every year. Well one year one of the fireworks tubes slipped over after their Dad lit it. It launched into the side of the house. The adults all stood there looking shocked while all us kids just creased ourselves with laughter.

Then I have this memory of this one pub that we always used to go to for family meals. And there was a time when my uncle visited we him and my dad ordered this crab between the two of them. It arrived, they glanced away for a second, looked back. Somehow I’d gotten the claw off and was now smacking it with my fork. Don’t know why but that memory for me of grabbing the claw and trying to beat it to discover what could possibly be inside such a weird looking thing makes me feel full of childish curiosity. 

And the other great thing about this pub was it had the nose of a plane in it. I mean it had a cockpit and you could push all the controls and they had escape slide to get down from it. I remember that and the yearly airshow we used to visit. I remember sitting on the sizzling roof of the car not daring to move in case a plane blew me away.

Maybe some time I’ll write some more of my life. Write about some of the bad things that have happened over the years. Maybe even write about some more of the good times… But this time up North. 

P.S. Thanks for making this blog, writing down some of my happy younger life memories has really given me a lift when I needed it.

Oh, damn! I didn’t realize I had messages. I’m so sorry, I have no idea how long this message has been sitting in my ask box.

Those all sounds like lovely memories. You’ve quite the adventurous and eventful life already. I can only imagine all the antics that will ensue in your future (that’s a good thing, don’t want a boring life, eh?).

Well. I figure I might as well tell my story.

I was born in the nice town of Columbia, MD in 1990. I don’t remember much of my early life, but no one ever really does. I do know that the earliest memory I have is when I was 4. I was getting beat up by 10 year olds. I think there was a 9 year old as well but that doesn’t really matter.

Most of my childhood was spent getting bullied. I lived in Columbia until I was 10-11. On a near daily basis I was picked on or beat up. I often spent time playing hide and seek with my friends who had no clue. I would play it, and I’d hide in a hole in the ground in fear that I’d get beat up.

My parents never knew this of course, they were the typical “We’re busy with work, here have some toys” parents. I do not fault them for it at all though. They worked their hearts out to provide for me and my sister. I have the utmost respect for them. They just weren’t there. No one was. I couldn’t tell anyone. They’d write it off as me being clumsy. I mean, who’s gonna believe the kid? They’re all straight A students, who will believe me? No one.

Around the age of 7 or 8 our cat Jetta died. He jumped off the roof and caught a crow in mid-flight and later died of an eye infection the crow caused. That was my first of many deaths that I’ve experienced.

The bullying continued. I only got reprieves if I was on vacation or out of town, and even then I was somewhat pushed to the side for my cousins who were so much better than me. It wasn’t fun at all. That’s when I sorta found anime and the asian culture. Though I had been introduced to it at an early age by my best friend’s family who are from Taiwan, this was more of an extreme. Though that doesn’t really matter right now.

Eventually we moved to my current town, which I do not want to actually say what town it is. I made no real new friends here. No close friends at least. Around the time I moved here I did meet my first love. For four years we were off and on dating. During those periods I was still bullied. Still neglected and ignored.

Then in 2005, on December 23rd, my grandfather passed. I missed it. No one told me that he might die that night. They just ignored me as I played KH1. I was devastated. I was a 15 year old who ended up carrying the casket with my Uncle and a few others. That’s when the deaths really started coming in. I won’t go through all of them, but since 2005 I’ve had over 30 important people to me die.

I was mourning at the time so I missed school for a bit, when I came back the bullying stopped for a week or so in respect that I lost my grandfather, but after that it continued. But it only got worse. The next year I lost one of my best friends to suicide. He shot himself in the head on the day before Valentine’s Day, after being egged on by people.

This is when my depression really kicked in. I mean, I’d actually never been happy in my life, but I’d always been sorta not that sad but still sad. This crushed me. I was full on depressed, and it never went away. 4 months later my first love, who was still in my life and girlfriend at the time, was killed in a hit and run while on vacation in Germany. The driver was drunk. I don’t believe he got arrested or charged.

I started cutting. I attempted suicide. No one knew. No one ever knew. It just got worse. I started staying indoors, being even more anti-social. I watched anime and played video games. I didn’t care about school. I just wanted to get away. 

The deaths continued though. Both my great uncles, my great aunt. So many people in my life were dying. I didn’t know what to do. I just would cry and cut and think about ways to kill myself. I even tried to find something to make me happy. I dated so many people. 75% of them cheated on me. I’ve walked in on my ex’s with 5 guys before. I started getting worse and worse and nothing was going right.

It continued and I somehow passed high school, but I had no will to do anything. My parents paid for Community College. I didn’t care. I didn’t go to classes. I just fucked up. Twice.

Fast forward to last year, 2010. It’s May and I finally have gotten my first job. Things could be looking up. I met a girl. She’s amazing, and I don’t care that she’s in Florida. She’s perfect. Gorgeous. Amazing. Same interests. I even send her stuff for her birthday and she cries over the phone in joy. It was great.

Then she dumped me. She said she wouldn’t have time. I was devastated. I jumped out the window. I landed on the roof though, forgetting that our windows don’t go straight down to the ground, they go to the roof. I cut nonstop. It got worse and worse. I got into bad relationships. Then, I was put in the hospital. My now ex-friend who hates my guts called the police all the way from Chicago cause she was worried. The cops came to my house. And I was put into the hospital and diagnosed with depression.

All of this happened, on my birthday. I was in the hospital on my birthday. There were no happy birthdays. Just “Take your meds”.

I got out late on my birthday, I got no cake or presents. I just went home. Under a week later I lost every single friend I had. Only one gave me a chance. Others sorta talked but they just were pretending and were talking shit about me behind my back. Everyone was.

Around October I came to tumblr. This was around the time where I had the first sign of being happy. Meds were working. I met people. Many abandoned me though. I was thrown back down intro depression because of tumblr. Then I started getting involved with people. It was like a giant cycle that I couldn’t escape. I dated someone on here, she then cheated on me via her ex. I gave her a second chance when she was begging for one, then she refused it. 

Around that time two of my friends who live in Japan went missing after the earthquake/tsunami ordeal. They’re still missing.

I then went on to one of the friends I had reconciled with. She’s gorgeous, amazing, and I’ve known her for a year. And I did love her. She dumped me after my feelings wavered for one day. I got worse. Then this one girl came along. She is nice. She is amazing. We hit it off, she leaves her boyfriend for me. Then a week later, she dumps me because she values her schoolwork more. I was broken, again turned to a best friend and we got involved but never dated and then she left for camp for a month. During that period my second closest friend left me, and then when my best friend got back she left me too, without saying a word.

Needless to say it looks like a cycle doesn’t it? But remember that girl who left her boyfriend for me? She came back. She said she didn’t care if I hinder her work, that she’d sacrifice it all for me. She said things that only I say. Stuff that no one ever said to me, but I said when I gave my all to people. And then she said more. More than I had ever said. I said more back. And now I’m happily in love and taken by her. I’ve never felt so strong about someone. Never. I couldn’t think of a more perfect person.

For the first time in my life I’ve been happy over a prolonged period of time. I may not have a job still. I may not look great. I may be a little out of shape still. But I’m happy. I’m motivated. And I’m in love. I thought I shouldn’t hang on, but I did and I’m glad I did. It took me 20 years to find happiness, and it’s worth it. I just hope it stays.

I’m so sorry to hear about the deaths you’ve had to experience, and the friendships that you’ve lost. You don’t deserve that. You deserve so much better. Good on you for hanging in there. Never give up. I’m happy to hear you’re in a good relationship. You deserve only the best. I believe things can and will turn around for you. So long as you don’t give up and don’t doubt. You’re a brilliant person, keep fighting.

Thank you very much for sharing.

P.S. I’m sorry I took so long to publish this story.

Well, where do I start? I am currently 19 years old and I am studying to be a case manager (a kind of social worker :)) but so much has lead me to this.

I haven’t exactly had an easy life, in saying this, I will never say that my life is more difficult than anyone else’s because I believe that to be a lie.

A few months after I was born, I was diagnosed with chronic asthma and up from then up until I was 8 years old, it was pretty much touch and go on whether I would be alive from one day to the next. During this time, however, my parents separated, my father was diagnosed with a mental illness and my mother got remarried.

Once I hit my teens years, things started getting really tricky. When I was 13, a “boyfriend” (I put brackets, because having a boyfriend at 13 was a little ridiculous) of mine abused me and after this, I went spiralling down into a deep pit of depression. I went through high school being bullied every day but feeling like I was totally alone even though my mum and I were (and still are) very close. From about the age of 14 through to when I was 16, I was having suicidal thoughts too often than I want to admit and when I was 16, a friend of mine finally realised how bad things were getting and contacted my mother, it was the best thing that could have ever happened because I finally felt like I could talk to mum about this and I started getting treatment.

Since that day, my passion has been to help people, if I can help just one person then even a small part of my life has some meaning.

Even though I want to help people, my burning passion, my lifeblood is acting and writing. I have been acting and writing for as long as I can remember and I am currently writing a book.

Whilst the things I have been through haven’t been pleasant, I would never trade them for the world because they have helped me become a stronger person, a person who can help others because of what I have been through and a person who can help make a difference in the life of others.

- I just want to say to you, thank you so much for setting up this page, for giving people a place to come and to talk and to find hope. There is nothing more important than hope.

It’s always a refreshing idea to know that there are people like you who love helping others. And, I know, you have helped plenty already (even if indirectly), and I don’t see that stopping any time soon. Acting and writing, eh? Those are lovely skills to have. Such great skills to watch or read… or both. You can do it all, you know? You can act and write and help people. You don’t have to choose. With a mind, past, and perseverance like yours, your options are endless. Thank you so much for sharing!

- Oh, and, I would like to thank you. For being so strong and hopeful. There really is nothing more important than hope.

My story is probably going to be all jumbled and mixed up, but I figured I’d submit mine. :’)

I was born in August 1994, and feel a lot has happened in my sixteen years of living - some of which I’ve accepted wholeheartedly, others that I’m still bitter about. For example, I’m still really bitter that when I was in nursery I was never given the chance to be the bride in the play-weddings that they would have. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. It’s okay though, I smashed the brides plant pot one time. ;) 

Though, as much as I was a happy and healthy child, I was bullied. What child isn’t anymore, right? The bullying did get quite bad though. My bullying was always more verbal than it was physical, unlike my brother who was physically targeted and beaten. There was times my bullies would kick me in my “fat” stomach, but I let it go over my head up until my brother had to move school and I was left to fend for myself. I turned almost in to a recluse, pushed my friends away so they wouldn’t get targeted as well. Most of the bullying my brother had suffered was transferred on to me, and when I was only 9 years old, one of my bullies had came in to school, sneaked up behind me covered my mouth to stop me from breathing and had a knife at my back. I remember running home crying, refusing to ever go back to the school. We told the headteacher, who refused to believe me, and I didn’t press charges because there was no witnesses. My mum transferred me to a different school immediately, but the damage was done. I was terrified of people. I struggled to strike up conversations with people, I would refuse to go to school or make up different illness’s so I wouldn’t have to go. My headteacher even threatened to get my mum sent to jail or me sent to a childrens home if I didn’t start attending. Thing is, I did my work - or at least, I tried really hard to do it. Most of it confused me, I never learned my times tables, long division was complicated as well, and I was always too scared to ask because that meant people having to notice me. I preferred to struggle in silence than have people think I’m stupid at the things people could grasp really easily.

My absences did cause trouble with classmates too, though. After my Great Gran died, I took a week off and when I went back, everyone was gossiping accusing me of lying about her death “just to stay off school.” It hurt me and it was one of the few times in my life I stood up for myself. I had a few people I would talk too in class, but never anyone I was friendly enough to exchange birthday presents or go to their birthday parties or sleepovers. My social life at that point was the internet, where I could be confident and not have any one hurt me through the screen. I started to use Habbo and met some lovely people on there that I still talk too. 

Everything went from bad to worse when it came to going up to High School. Everything was bigger, and worst of all, the bullies that I had before were there. I would pass them in the corridors and I’d struggle to breathe. All the verbal abuse came flooding back to me, the echo’s of “fat” shouting through my head, so I would skip meals in an attempt to lose weight. And it worked. 

Every day before school I would take panic attacks and my mum would have to physically drag me to school to make sure I’d attend. Come lunch time, I’d be sitting in the office crying, waiting on my granddad to take me home. Eventually, I stopped going. The school tried everything to get me back in, offering me the chance to do schooling part time but it wasn’t what I wanted. So, we were dragged to a Childrens Hearing and I was crying as they were talking about sending me to a home and I need schooling. I demanded to be home schooled, and they said they couldn’t do that, which is where the internet came in to play and I quoted off a government website: “Education is compulsory, but being being in a school isn’t.”

They were stumped at a response and decided that maybe homeschooling was the best option after all. So, after 5 months of my high school career - I no longer had to attend a school building. Let me tell you, UK’ers, when it comes to homeschooling: It isn’t all that great. We couldn’t afford a tutor, we couldn’t afford textbooks or anything. We were given £20 off the social work to buy me textbooks for that year, and that would have only afford one book. My mum tried really hard, printing things off the internet but she didn’t know what kind of things I should be learning. We eventually gave in, she stopped giving me work and my life revolved around Habbo, MySpace, sleeping and eating. I withdrew from everything, I had no friends or any social life whatsoever. I started going on Habbo fansites and like I said, met some really fantastic people on them. But it couldn’t stay that way forever. After about a year and a half, I realised that if I ever wanted a job I’d need to face my fears and go back to school. I tried, I really did. I went out, mum spent over £150 on a new uniform for me and I lasted one day before I went home and cried. I couldn’t take it anymore, and I wanted to kill myself. My mum and dad were advised to take me to a school psychologist, who suggested that I go in to a school for people like me. People who struggled in mainstream environments. I remember at the end of the meeting, he asked me did I really mean what I said about killing myself. I remember seeing the look of sadness in my mum and dads eyes and lied and said “no.”

It was probably the best decision I ever made. After about a week waiting, I was taken down for an interview at the school. It was a small school, only about 30 pupils and demand is high to get in to it. I was lucky and they accepted me in. It was only after being there for 2 years and speaking to my art teacher that I was told I was at a high priority risk which is why my case was rushed. It felt really weird to think about that point in my life again.

I loved that school, I looked forward to going every day, I made friends and at one point was the most popular person there. In 3rd year, I sat my exams and got straight A’s. My last year there, I passed my exams again with all A’s and one B. Surprisingly, the B was in English which was always the subject I was best at, and Maths was my worst which is what I got an A in.

I even made a best friend there who was like a sister to me. We don’t talk anymore, we grew apart, but I’m always glad that I had her to experience having a best friend. We shared a lot together and she was there for me during a rough time when I had a stalker (that’s a story for another time.)

It’s weird writing all of this now that I’m both at college and have a job. What happened to me has shaped my life, though, and it won’t go away. I’m still bad in social situations, however I’ve gotten better at talking and interacting with strangers. And remember my ‘Habbo’ friends? I’ve met 2 of them in real life, and stayed with one of them for 4 days. I just want to let everyone know that if you’ve ever been bullied, no matter how shit and how worthless you’ll feel at one point in your life - it does, and will eventually, get better. There’s always someone out there who cares about you, and don’t be afraid to seek help. It’s a long process, but it’s worth it.

Wow. You are amazing and so, so strong. That is quite the inspirational life you’ve led. I’m amazed. You went through so much, so much pain that you didn’t deserve, but, yet, look at you - brilliant as ever, and accomplishing anything you could possibly think up in that brilliant mind of yours. I’m so thankful you shared your story. I’m nearly at a loss for words. It’s a great thing to read. It does get better, yes, it does. Thank you!