Hi, I’m Jessica Tames, and I am a victim of bullying. Not just a little bit. Okay, from fifth grade to eighth. But I’m eighteen now, so that’s a good four years, almost a fifth of my life. I used to live in Yorktown Heights, New York, USA, when I was in middle school, which, honestly, is the worst place to live in the entire universe. Trust me on that.
My entire grade, and at least half of the other grades, would pick on me. I had absolutely no friends, except for a couple of boys who I would hang out with sometimes, but they usually thought I was annoying. Which I suppose I was. I’d go over to their table during lunch and interrupt their conversations. But that was only because I was so lonely and wanted someone to talk to. Boy, did that backfire big time. Anyway, no one liked me because I was too weird, too ugly, too stupid, etc. And they let me know it. EVERY SINGLE DAY. This was not your average bullying, I tell you; this was 100 times worse. Nothing physical or sexual, thank God, but personally I think the mental and verbal abuse was even worse. They’d call me every name in the book; make fun of my clothes, my eyebrows, my everything. And this wasn’t just one group of people; it was the whole grade, with the exception of those guys I mentioned above.
I remember one particular incident in 8th grade where a girl named Ursula (names have been changed) told a guy named Bob not to eat a cinnamon roll I offered him because I didn’t want it, because “I touched it.” And then there was the time in 6th grade where a girl threatened to beat me up if I didn’t get out of “her seat.” I got up, but the memory still haunts me. Oh, and let’s not forget the, not one, not two, but three times that “I hate Jessica Tames” was written on the bathroom walls in 5th grade. What a nice group of kids, huh?
My family moved after I graduated middle school, because the bullying got so bad. But because it was so bad, I developed post traumatic stress disorder. I know, it seems like a silly thing to have PTSD from, but that is honestly how bad it was. Then I started cutting. ( http://kidshealth.org/teen/your_mind/feeling_sad/cutting.html) I cut on my wrists and ankles. I still have the scars. I thought about suicide constantly; how to do it, when to do it…I even went so far as to write goodbyes to my family and friends. But I never attempted it because I was afraid. It may seem silly, but I thank God every day for giving me this fear. Eventually, I was sent to Four Winds Hospital in Katonah, NY, to get help with dealing with my issues. Four times. And you know what? It helped. It took a long time, but it helped.
In June of this year (2011) I graduated from Croton-Harmon High School. I still can’t believe I actually made it that far. I thought for sure I’d end up committing suicide before I graduated. What stopped me, might you ask? My best friends, Amy Greenblatt and Inez Nelson. They are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and without them, I’d definitely be dead. The two of them talked me through my bad days, the moments where I wanted to pick up a blade and cut. Amy even told me once, “for every cut you make, I make two.” Obviously I didn’t want her to cut, so I stopped cold turkey. And it felt great. I was finally freed from my own twisted mind.
Now here comes my public service announcement… :P
If you or someone you know is depressed or considering suicide, PLEASE TELL SOMEONE, preferably a trusted adult. They can get you the help you need!
I’m going to end this rant by saying this: YOU ARE AWESOME, AND DON’T LET ANYONE ELSE TELL YOU OTHERWISE! (: