I have never related so much to something. It is giving me both an exhilarating and a scared feeling. I mean I’m glad I found something that really gets it. Imagine how different my life could have been if I knew the book existed. The book came out 10 years ago. I have been suicidal for 10 years, maybe the book could have helped me. I’d have been able to see how much an effect a suicide can have on the lives of others and how there is a future. 10 years ago I definitely could have committed suicide and thought of 13 Reasons as to Why I did it. Up until I started college I could have done that. College changed everything. At least it did for a while. These suicidal tendencies don’t always go away completely. They are really dark, feelings that just can’t be gotten rid of. Anytime my life goes to shit or people treat me like shit I think about how much I wish it was all over. Mostly I’m fine. Mostly I either feel nothing or I feel everything. Oh the joys of being a bundle of depression and anxiety. I just get tired of everything or else sad for no reason. In those moments, it’s all stuff going on in my head and it’s my fault. That stuff I can handle. I can’t handle other people making me feel that way or making me feel paranoid. Since I was 9 years old, I have been made feel like an outsider. I have been ignored, not appreciated, undermined, and casually bullied. I say casually bullied because apparently statements that are said to you that might not necessarily mean sounding don’t count as bullying no matter how much they effect the victim. I was scared. I lost all trust in people and it takes a very long process for me to trust someone now and if that gets broken it won’t get repaired. I just believed that everyone was fake. Nobody really cared. When I was bullied in primary school it was emotionally manipulative. The bullies would always be like “Hi Sandra, how are you? Oh you’re good, that’s good! Listen I forgot to bring something in so can I borrow yours? I swear I’ll give it back just trust me. Aw thanks so much!!!” They would get in my face a bit and sometimes 3 or 4 of them would approach me at the same time. I didn’t have a choice really. If they wanted to “borrow” something that was mine I wasn’t allowed to say no. If I did they would just go up to the teacher and say that I’m not sharing. Of course one of the main things they aim to teach you in primary school is sharing because that’s caring and if you’re not sharing then you might as well pack your bags for your trip to hell or wherever all the bold children go. I grew up not being allowed to say no. I was afraid to say no. I got scared of being in trouble. I still find it hard to say no. As much as my mental illnesses are my problems and I can’t really play the blame game here, I think my childhood experiences should at least be some bit accredited to why I got so messed up.
I got made fun of for being too “boyish”. “What are you a boy?” I answered that question and said “You know sometimes I wish I was!” I said that for the plain and simple reason that I knew if I was a boy I wouldn’t be treated the way I was. I would have been respected, and allowed to play soccer at lunch with the boys and actually be part of a team instead of trying to fight for the ball and become a one woman team to prove that I could play. However when I said I’d rather be a boy, they used that as further fuel for the fire. They would just laugh. And laugh. And laugh. I’ve had to train myself to be ok to be around people when their laughing. For the last few years, I’ve wanted to be a comedian and make people laugh because everyone should be happy and I wouldn’t wish my shitty experiences on anyone. However, because of the years of being laughed at I got really insecure. Every laugh I heard even if it was really far away or obviously directed at something else, I felt it was directed at me. I’ve run to the bathroom on numerous occasions when I felt like a group of people were pointing a laughing at me in their little group of friends. Why else would they be laughing? It had to be me, surely they weren’t making jokes that were unrelated to me?
It was also 10 years ago that I became self-conscious about my weight. I can say this now because I’ve had a lot of weight issues and fluctuations, that I was tiny when I was 9. I was still skinny I had no bit of fat on me whatsoever, expect maybe in my face and I’m still trying to get rid of that. I got fat when I was going into secondary school, and the fact that I cycled to school I was heavier than almost every girl in my entire school, I was a big fat target for abuse.My massive school bag didn’t help with that either. I thought going to an all girls secondary school would give me freedom from the ridicule that boys had against me but alas that was not to be as my school was right next to the boys and the mixed secondary schools. I got laughed at, mocked, yelled at, pelted with pebbles, and blocked from entering my estate. I got mocked so much one day when I was in 5th year that I started crying and when the guys who mocked me realised this, they got a bit quieter but still kind of laughed it off because they didn’t know how to react to the fact that their words had an effect on me. I was blinded by tears but kept cycling away because how could I stop when they were all still around. It’s really dangerous to cycle a bike, especially on a road with moving cars, when you can’t see. I didn’t care though I just wanted to get home as fast as I could and shut myself away in my room. As soon as I got into 5th year and my class room was located out in the prefab that no one ever checks in the evenings, I stayed behind at least half an hour before making an attempt to go home. I waited so that all the boys from the other schools were pretty much all gone home. I spent the last two years of secondary school hiding and trying to make myself as invisible as possible. I’ve fallen off my bike a few times cycling home from school and not once could those lads give any bit of sympathy. I could hear the roars of laughter coming from across the road. I was in first or second year when the worst fall happened. I was cycling up onto the footpath but the bike didn’t make it up on the curb and I fell onto the footpath after going at a bit of a speed and my massive school bag got flung over my head and pulled me down even harder and faster. Surprisingly enough I didn’t break my neck. I didn’t even really get that injured a few bruises on my body, and because of the laughter, a huge scar across my heart.
I hope this makes it somewhat easier to understand why I sometimes think about people in the way I do. Reasons I think that no one cares because no one ever really did. Back to the show, anyone who seemed like they might care were just like Clay, they knew what was happening and just stood on the sidelines not wanting to get involved or say anything. I’m glad I am past the worst of it. Anything I’ve been feeling since I started college are the after effects and repercussions of that life that I was forced to battle through. I’m glad I did. It was worth all the fighting. It was worth all the scars both external and internal. I feel like I’ve found my group of people. People who care about me. People who love me, even though they don’t admit it because they’re too cool/awkward to express certain emotions. 13 Reasons Why, made me remember all those events I was trying to forget. I’m happy that it reminded me because comparing those years to the present day it so motivating. If I can go from that horrible time with people who treated me like I was a voodoo doll trying to see how many pins they could stick in me before they stabbed every bit of my heart. I honestly think they wanted me to kill myself. I definitely said it at one point out of frustration at them and they didn’t really care they said stuff like “Yeah well I’d like to see you try.” They also would just shrug it off and be like “Yeah right, sure you will”. Even as a young impressionable child, I was mature and intelligent in everything that I did. I knew that if I did do something to myself that it wouldn’t change anything, except for the fact that I wouldn’t have to listen to them anymore which was nearly enough motivation for me to do it but if I was going to make such a big decision like that I wanted it to be for me, not for them. I didn’t want them to get the satisfaction that they were finally rid of me. I stuck around to annoy them because no matter what I did, they never liked me. Nobody thought they were doing anything wrong, even my friends agreed with them most of the time. I just needed to shut up because they “weren’t actually being mean at all”. I was just taking everything the wrong way and they were “obviously joking”.
At least I don’t have that anymore. I have people who care and I couldn’t be happier with the support system that I’ve developed in the past year and a half. With every smile and every hug I get from any of them I am so thankful that I stuck around and I know that I can’t leave now because why would I want to end this bliss that is my social life. It took me so long to get a social life and honestly it was worth the wait. I am loved. I’ve always wanted that and I never thought it would happen. It makes me so happy sometimes when I really start thinking about it. They like me, they really like me.