Well, another bullied one!

Discussion in 'Bullying and Violence' started by Alloloa, May 9, 2010.

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  1. Alloloa

    Alloloa Member

    Hello everyone!

    I've red some of your posts, and it felt great to see that I'm not the only one who's been bullied. Most of you had worse experiences with bullying than me, so sorry if you think that I'm complaining for nothing... But it truly messed up my life.

    One of the things you need to know is that I have always been a lonely child. I was reading all the time, and truly enjoyed school. I was a weird person to most children, and even if I have memories of playing with French kids from my residence, my mother keeps telling me I was different. I guess I was quite happy until I went to Caracas. Another thing is that I've always had difficulties in finding and (more important) keeping friends.

    If I remember well, it all started in Lower School (I don't remember the American Grades for Lower School anymore, so I'll use the French ones; although I lived abroad, I've always been in French schools, from kindergarden to 10th grade).

    I was in CM1 (I was 8 years old I think), and A was jealous because I had befriended S. She started to make my life hell, spatting at me, hitting me once on the arm during break because I had complained to the teacher, and she had told her to get out of the classroom. I remember that my arm was red, but thankfully, boys in my classroom stood up and took my defense.Then other girls joined her, and they were making gesture of disinfecting every things they had to give me (the teacher made us distribute the papers), or the things I gave them. It was horrible for me, I supposed I told my mother at some point and she went to see A and her mother to tell her about her daughter's behavior. I think she changed school the next year, but I'm not pretty sure about that...

    In CM2, I managed to make a friend, which I kept until Middle School. In 6th Grade, she started to get away from me because I had befriended with a boy she didn't like. Then everything went wrong again : one day, we were in gym class (I suck at gym, particularly at soccer), and I had glasses. I thought that it kept me from helping my team at soccer, so I gave them to a group of girls that weren't doing the class for X reason. When the class ended, they left, and I ran after her to ask them where my glasses where. They told me that they had left them on the staircase, near the soccer field. I never found my glasses back; I looked, but just afterwards, a bunch of kids ran down the stairs. Now, I think that they had played with them, had broken and thrown them in the garbage.

    Another time in 6th Grade, a boy told in front of the whole class to the spanish teacher 'And why do you give nothing to this stupid bitch ?' (it's the only appropriate translation I found for 'conne' in the dictionary, according to the context - if any of you know a better one, let me know). Well, the teacher did nothing, said nothing, he didn't even give him detention. In 6th grade also, the same boy 'accidentally' threw a block traffic (I don't know it this is the correct expression; what I meant is 'plot de circulation', but it wasn't on either of my dictionaries, so I used Google Translator, which I don't really trust, so, once more, if you know the correct translation, please let met know) on my face; I was on the 'wrong trajectory', he wanted to throw it to another boy, and, according to him, it was an accident. Anyway, it almost broke my glasses (again), and I had a big bruise on the eye (and I had to make photo ID this day - I'm glad my mother had make-up with her).

    And then 7th Grade came, along with new French persons in the residence. I had no friend by this time. The only one I had managed to make left me after a few months because I was 'too serious'. One girl, L, started bullying me, even though she invited me to her house once. She was a year older than me. She'd throw water at me from her window, and one day she emptied a bottle of tiny but sticky colored string all over my hair, in front of the whole school. They were all laughing and making fun of me. It took me a good quarter of an hour to wash it off, just the time of the break. No one gave her detention.
    My sister and her friends went to my bedroom and found my diary. They opened it with the wrong key, but it worked. The next day, L sister, who was one of my sister's friend, told in the bus (I wasn't in the bus, my father drove us to school every morning) all the things that I had written in it. That gave everyone another good occasion to make fun of me, and they didn't stop until I left this school in the middle of the year to go to Houston (USA).

    8th Grade was also horrible. At first it wasn't that bad, but on Martin Luther King's Day, my grandfather, who had been sick for a long time, passed away. My 'friends' chose this moment to let me down, to humiliate me (as example, they'd scream that I had to finish my food in front of the whole lunchroom - it's not much, but I've always been very shy, so this was very embarrassing to me) or to ignore me. I went to the Prom alone, while all the others had gone in limousine; no one had asked me if I wanted to come, even if we would have shared the costs.

    9th Grade was worst. A new student had arrived, E, and he truly was a bully. He started by making my english teacher (who trusted me) believe that I had stolen his pencil case. In truth, a student had thrown in on my desk and then had hidden it; it was a plot. Then he invented a convocation with the High School Director at the same time of my math exam. I never went to the convocation, and I was right to do so, because they're wasn't any. He just wanted me to mess up my math exam.
    This was only the beginning : he turned both classes of 9th Grade against me, calling me junkie, and asking me to show my arms (by the way, I have nothing against people who have drug troubles, so don't think I'm making a judgement or anything) to see if there were some needles traces. He used the same technics than the girls in 8th Grade, screaming my name in the corridor and applauding me loudly, with the class support. It was a game to them. Then we got each others MSN address, and he continued emotional bullying through the Internet, by mails or MSN, insulting me (he pretended that he was having a row with someone else on the computer, but I don't think it's true), making fun of my performance at the Pop Show, making himself pass for H. He told me H was in love with me, but of course it wasn't true. Once, he started throwing stones at me, but one girl stopped him. Another time he started to beat me with a plastic thing along with another boy; it didn't hurt, but the gesture was there.
    I was seeing a psychologist by that time, and most of our conversations were about him. I couldn't tell the school psychologist because (guess what) he was her son! By the end, my psychologist was so fed up that she called her mother. He never bothered me again.

    And then, the apotheosis, 10th Grade. My Dad got truly sick during the summer, he was an inch from death, so we stayed in France for a while. I was in High School (in France, High School starts in 10th Grade), and it was my first time at school in France. Well, people were very nice. I was usually shy, but I made friends quickly. 5 weeks after, we had to go back to Houston. It was the 5 best weeks of my life... They were all sad when they heard that I was leaving, they even made me a surprise party and offered me a present (in gold, OK, they were like 25, but still, it's expensive).
    When I came back to Houston, everyone in the classroom ignored me. They made it as if I didn't exist. Just one person (outside of the class) wished me a happy return. When I entered the class, no one spoke, and, when the bell rang, they all left, without telling me that the Assembly place had changed. It's not exactly bullying, but I still think it's a form of. The invitations for parties were given in front of me, but I wasn't given anyone... No one told me what was expected from the new teachers, so when we had homework (and, believe me, we had a huge amount of it), I didn't have the method. Then everything screwed up in my life, and I switched for the International Section, where I finally made a friend, A. But, once more, I had to leave, this time to go back to France for my health's trouble.

    Here's my story with bullying, I hadn't talked about it for a long time; in fact , I don't think I've ever told any of my doctors in France. Sorry if you consider that this is not really bullying (I'm not sure it is either, after reading your messages), but it truly messed up my life and didn't help me at all...

    Thanks for reading, and I apologize once more if I was mistaken in writing this message.

  2. Pow

    Pow Well-Known Member

    Hey there Alloloa,
    I can see where your coming from, since I had experiences of moving houses quiet alot and was always the new kid in the class.
    When I was younger I used to dwell on all the bad memories that had happened and they always seemed like "little pointless" things to other people but they hurt badly.
    I'd always be the last one to hear about things, talked behind my back and property broken on purpose but I learned to ignore the comments, since they're always repetitive. I just think to myself that, that is THEIR issue, I shouldn't care just because they we're brought up to be little bastards.
    Looking back I remind myself that there ARE good memories and i'm sure you do to. Besides, i'm sure everyone has there fair share of bad happenings.
    Hope this helped abit. :)
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