If I were to sit here and tell you that teen suicide was not something I thought about when I was younger, I’d be lying to you. I don’t talk often about those days because I feel so far removed from that sad, dark teenager. The memories, although long ago, are still somewhat clear in my mind. Back then I thought I was alone; that I was the sole punching bag of the world around me. What I didn’t get was that many teens and younger who were living a life similar to my own. The internet, or something like it, was just a part of some science fiction novel, television show, or even movie. For me? I felt there was no one to reach out to.
I had a plan. Just in case the physical and emotional abuse got to be too much. Thankfully I never embarked on it, but I had it lain out…just in case.
Why? I was bullied…at home and at school. I was called every name in the book at school. If it had just been one other kid then it would have been easy to deal with, but it wasn’t just that. From being shoved into lockers, books knocked out of my hands to having my school clothes thrown in the locker room shower while I was showering after gym class, the punishment didn’t stop there. It was relentless, my life was threatened, and that if I didn’t ‘straighten up’ and ‘act normal’ like ‘everybody else,’ then I would be killed. Yes, killed.
I thought the best thing to do was to just ignore them; to just be me, and not let them ‘get the best of me.’ But it was a daily barrage, which knocked my spirit to the ground. I was told by my mom that they were just trying to push my buttons to get a reaction out of me. So, I stayed home, continuing to take advice from an active alcoholic single parent.
To be honest, I don’t know if that is good advice or not, even today. I do know that when I had the opportunity to drink and smoke pot, I jumped on it. People thought me cool, and suddenly I was in with the cool folks. Still and outcast but at least I was more normal. What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was feeding an addiction that would later take hold.
I was 13 and it took me 15 years for me to fall to my knees to ask for help.