A Teen’s Struggle
Everything used to be fine, as fine as a father who does not care and a mother who fell into a depression can get. I live with my grandparents with my sister because my father pretty much got with another girl, and got another girl. This was his 4th child, with 3 girls. He left us, and my mom was depressed. This was when I was too young to understand. I was oblivious to the depression and sadness my mother felt. The house was a mess, and eventually the government made my mom give me and my sister up.
We were lucky our grandparents lived in the same town. I was pretty bad in school, not grades, but my behavior. Then… high school came around. People used to be hard on me when I was in middle school. Things were tough, and I had to focus on school work. Now, things are just plain terrible. I force a smile on my face, and as I get closer to graduation, I grow more disheartened at my classmates. I learnt, once I called them out for calling me weak, that they don’t realize they are even mocking me! This was a depressing moment, because people have called me stupid before. They likely don’t realize what I am going through. I am in special ed, (ADHD and auspbergs, however you spell it) and I don’t fit in with them because they don’t accept me. They are occasionally bullied, I have seen it. Bullying is not common in our school unless you are in special ed. This is just wrong on so many levels.
The bullies don’t punch or kick us physically, but they break our heart by laughing at us. The others may not completely understand, and I don’t either. However, I stand up for my fellow special ed students. If I tell an adult, the adult does nothing. They often say “Stay away from them” even if someone threw a sports drink cap at me. “Stay away from them” they said, and that was the end of the conversation. The irony is not just that I can’t stay away from the students who throw stuff at me, it is the fact that most places say “Report bullying to a teacher” when the teachers can’t do much if they don’t see it unless the bully left a physical mark.
Often the only mark they leave is a scar in your heart, which is impossible to see. This lazy belief has to stop if bullying is to be stopped. Though I know there are others who would love to be me, because they have a life much worse than mine, the life I live is difficult but not impossible. That is my struggle, a struggle to defeat bullying while protecting the only others who understand from this same sadness. A struggle to keep going on with my unknown fate. A struggle to keep strong. All of this with a childish heart and some hope.