Some bullies don’t grow up; they just get older.

When I was younger, kids just hit me. They pushed me down, shoved my face in the snow, pushed me into walls, punched and kicked me. But, that was something I could handle. I would cry and cry about it, but then I’d move on. It was easy to see who was in the wrong. I knew they were being bad kids, because hitting was bad. Simple. But then we all “grew up.” But growing up is different than I thought it would be. Because the bullying didn’t go away. It just came in a different form.











Kill yourself.

I heard these words whispered at me in classrooms and shouted at me in hallways. They were written on notes left in my locker and the backs of seats on the bus. Then all the kids got cell phones. And then the words started coming through texts and voicemails. Everybody had MySpace, so they came through that. After a while, there was nowhere to hide.

Even now, as an adult, I still feel like a victim of bullying. I’m still tormented by people who are still cruel, despite years of people telling everyone that “bullying will not be tolerated.” Despite the anti-bullying initiatives. Despite the presentations on the statistics of bullying. Despite the documentaries, the candlelight vigils, the pleas from mothers and fathers of dead children to administrators and congresspeople and presidents. The bullies didn’t grow up; they just got older.

I don’t think my parents know yet the extent to which I suffered as a victim of bullying. I don’t think they understand the depression, the suicidal thoughts, the fear. I don’t think that they’ll ever really know that making friends is so much harder now. That I can’t trust people. That killing myself is sometimes more of a fantasy than a nightmare, because I just want to make the bullying end.

I wish I could make the bullying stop. But it seems like I’m buried. Like there’s no way out of it. I’m still trying to find a way out. Maybe I never will. Maybe the world will magically get better. Who even fucking knows anymore.


One Comment to “Some bullies don’t grow up; they just get older.”

  1. I know it might be hard to remember, but amongst all those bad people out there who makes you feel like suicide is a fantasy and not a nightmare, there are people just like you. There are good, there are even great. The world is not 100% bad, it’s just that the magnificent, wonderful and amazing are hiding a little bit better. But you can find those great people and the great experiences.

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