Look at this!

THIS is exactly the type of thing I'm trying to fight! A boy had his arm broken just for being his unique self and doing something he enjoys GOD why are people like this?!

http://news.yahoo.com/video/us-15749625/boy-fights-bullying-for-the-right-to-cheer-22181559

Do you ever?

feel like no matter how many times you say okay or how many times you try to forget it always comes right back and makes you feel like shit? You cant completly let go of what your gut is telling you? Its the wosrt feeling in the world. Espicially since you have people depending on you too keep things the same and not say anything and just go with it. You ever feel like you've given up everything to make someone else happy? Your dignity, your trust, or evern your heart. Know people will read this and say this makes no sense you are suppose to talk about past expirences and stuff you need help with. But i cant just come out and say i need your help. I dont want to ask for help i want you to know i need it and help without making it noticeable. I dont want to feel like someone you have to "watch over" but i want you to know when im hurt or when im sad or when i need you to just hold my hand and say it is okay. I guess this is me reaching out for you to notice that i need you more than you know....alot more.

A Side Note

Hey all, I'll post about 6th grade in a few days, but I'd like to talk about what I did for myself when I went through all of this. My mom always used to tell me, "We'll do everything we ca to help you through this, but in the end it all comes down to you." I never knew what she meant, but now I do. What that means is that no matter who tries to help you or how much, if you don't try to fix things, it will all stay the same. I say that I never acted out cause I was raised not to, and that IS true, but only partially. It was also because I figured if they hated me this much, I must deserve it, so I did nothing to change things. Because of that it went on for four years, until finally I just... snapped. But that's another story. The point I'm trying to make is that no one ever does anything to make things better for themselves, to change things. I'm as guilty of this as anyone. When I went through depression, I was the typical 'Emo kid'. I dressed in all dark colors, listened to music like slipknot and disturbed. I kept a low profile at all times, and stayed away from other people, even after I got out of Cannon. It did absolutely nothing to help me, in fact it had quite the negative effect. Music like that is fine in a healthy state of mind but when you are depressed and already not doing so well, as much as you want to and it might seem to make sense you shouldn't be listening to songs about losing people and killing yourself and all the like. It only makes things worse. And also, if you FEEL isolated and alone, it might be because you make yourself appear that way, and so no one wants to be around you. Try upbeat music. When I actually tried a mental turnaround, I listened to Billy Joel and Jimmy Eat World (The Middle was my personal favorite for obvious reasons), along with Van Halen, but that was because I was made fun of for not knowing who they were originally. Also, if you're feeling like this and reading depressing poetry and literature, it WILL keep you in that mindset. Try finding something you enjoy reading, preferably something fictional and mindless that you can lose yourself in. No murder stories, no suicidal people, NO BELL JAR, try action and romance and even sci-fi if you like. From 5th to 7th grade, I must have read The Misfits by James Howe 100 times. In fact, I just reread it and I STILL love that book. For people of that age experiencing the things I've talked about, I must recommend that book. For eighth and ninth graders, Please Stop Laughing at Me by Jodee Blanco is a powerful book that, while bringing back painful memories, helped me get through. And finally, for the older grades, the last book on my to read list is The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch, another powerful, inspirational book that stays with me. Find your own books that have a lasting impact on you. Or pour it all into your inspiration, whether it be helping people, public speaking, sports, art, writing, or anything that helps. Everyone needs an outlet. Truly Yours, as always, Alex Cercone (cercone495@yahoo.com).

This Song Is Basically My Life

This song, Voices, is by Chris Young. I suggest everybody watch the video if they want to see what my life is like. My mom and dad went through a divorce that words cant even describe. By that I mean my dad held a gun to my mama's head. He is extremely bipolar and dont take his meds.... This is the very first time I have ever told anybody besides my best friend christopher that... It makes me extremely emotional because i was only 7 years old and i saw the entire thing happen, and II had to call the police myself. That was the worst 24 hours of my life, and knowing my dad went to jail for a week after that didnt help me at all... It was a terrible night that I never will forget for the rest of my life... I try to forget about it, but usually when I get depressed (I have mild clinical depression), I will try to drink it away by drinking and not stopping until i pass out drunk. I dont recommend that method to anyone, it never works... Anyways, this song explains my life now, because it is great.
CJKELLEY

I've had a lot of time to think....

Most of my friends know that along with my best friend Kevin, I'm taking my classes online at home. School consists of only a few hours for me and then I'm finished. Usually with nothing to do, so this has given me a lot of time to think. In the past year, I have changed a LOT. But for the better. I think some of it has to do with the school I went to. Pine Lake. Before Pine Lake, I attended my town's elementary, intermediate and middle school. It was difficult for me. I had a lot of friends and I was popular and I was on the cheerleading team but the other cheerleaders would talk crap about me and make things up that weren't true. I never knew why and I never bothered to tell my parents but somehow they found out. The only people that wouldn't make fun of me were the people that I shouldn't have been hanging out with. My parents approached me about this and they told me the reason why the other cheerleaders were talking about me is because they were intimidated. I had the second highest score at tryouts and I was "pretty." I never believed them when they told me this because I didn't believe it myself. I could point out a number of things that were wrong with me, mainly because I was getting made fun of for it. I was diagnosed with depression, anxiety and mild anger last year. I can control it just fine but I always knew something was wrong with me because I would break down in tears when I would get made fun of.

I understand completely how most of you feel. If you look at my last post, "My Life - Lauryn Suda," you'll be able to read the beginning of my story. It's been extremely hard for me from the beginning. It still is. Bullying is something most everyone has to deal with. But most people deal with it on a much higher level than others. Some of us are bullies ourselves. I used to make fun of other people only because I believe in "what comes around goes around" and I wanted to make sure that it happened to them because they did it to me. But once I take the time to realize how painful it was for me when I got bullied, I can only imagine what they're going through. What YOUR going through. I've caught myself whenever I begin to make fun of people and I've begun to catch my friends in the act as well. Bullying is something that we can't avoid, but we can prevent it.
I'm here if anyone wants to talk! (:
http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/profile.php?id=100000113533901
lsuda360@gmail.com

The Truth

Im afraid. I always have been . Im afraid of dying im afraid of living. Im afraid of commitment and im afraid of falling in love. Im a coward on the inside. But the outside is the total opposite. Noone sees the inside except my girlfriend who gets small glimpses when i have my breakdowns.On the outside im rough and tough. The inside im a little kid hurt and afraid. Im afraid of growing up im afraid of losing people im close to. Ive lost so many people you think i would be use to it. But no its made me build a wall and obstacle course to get to my heart so noone can get close enough. I dont like to admit my weaknesses i think they make me weak. I've been raised to open up to people but not sweat the small stuff. As i got older and i complained more i was told to get over it...thats when the wall began. Im afraid of everything and anything. But yet i dont act like it. Ive always wanted to join the military and become a soldier and protect my country. But it terrifies me. My heart tells me yes and my mind tells me no. Thats the way it is for everything except one thing. And that is my girlfriend who was originally a friend. I stole her from another friend but i did it because it was the first time my heart and my head agreed and i knew i had to know why. It was the best decision i made and it was also the scariest. I guess that was my life lesson even though something is scary it could turn out to be the best damn decision you could ever make. But im still afraid. Im afraid now of losing her, hurting her, or not being enough. But i guess i have to get over all my fears if i want to live my life the way i want.

My First Kiss.. with a girl.

Ive never really been open about my first kiss with a girl. Ive only told maybe three people the whole story. Her name was Nicole (not real name), and she was my best friend in 7th and 8th grade. We were sitting in my room, and I told her I had something to tell her but I was afraid to. She promised me she wouldnt tell anyone, and whatever it is wouldnt change our friendship. So I told her that I had always wanted to kiss a girl, but not just any girl... Her. She was the only girl I wanted to kiss. This was around Novemberish. I cant really remember. Nicole spent the night at my house every weekend, even after I told her. Instead of her resenting me and ignoring me, she started flirting. She would cuddle up to me at night, sit really close to me when we watched a movie, and she would put her nose against mine and say "you know you can kiss me." She would lay on top of me and trace her nose across my face. It doesnt sound like it would have that big of an effect, but it drove me crazy. I couldnt let myself kiss her though. I didnt want to ruin the friendship that we had. I didnt want to ruin the plans we had to go to college together and then go and tour college. I just couldnt let that happen. New Years Eve she spent the night, and thats when it all went down. We watched the ball drop and then went to bed, and early night for us to say the least. She cuddled up again, which I was fine with, but then she got on top of me. She started the teasing things again. "You know you can kiss me." She has a piece of mint gum in her mouth and I could smell it when she talked. And thats where the love of mint started. And then, we kissed. Not a peck but not a make out. Im not sure what to call it because she freaked out. She jumped up and went and brushed her teeth. "I didnt think I was that bad of a kisser." Im not sure how much time went by before we went to bed, but I remember waking up and she was cuddling up again. After that night, we didnt talk. I saw her again in Feburary at a friends birthday party, and she hugged me but thats about it. I promised I wouldnt tell anyone, but I didnt think it was that big of a deal. So what, we kissed? Big deal. We havent talked in almost two years. And I miss her so much. Not because of the kiss, but because of the friendship we had. She cut off all contact with me. She wonnt answer my calls or texts and blocked me on facebook. Ive tried to talk to her, to say Im sorry for what happened. But I dont think I should be sorry for what happened. She wanted to kiss me too. It was a mutual kiss, but I get the blame because I told her I wanted to. My mom says that I should just forget about her and move on, but I cant make myself do that. I cant forget about her. Please dont think that Im trying to push homosexuality onto the world, I just dont want one kiss, whether gay or straight, to ruin a relationship.

5th Grade

Sorry I haven't posted on here in a while everyone, I want to go in chronological order and 5th grade was my worst year. I think I'm finally ready. I blocked a lot of it out of my mind to protect myself, but it's time to dredge it back up... So after the summer of 4th grade I went back to the Cannon School. I told myself it was going to be better this year.... If I had known how wrong that statement was I would have dropped out then and there. This year Dean and George were not only still there, this time I shared a class with both of them. However, for the first time I made friends. I remember my friends Robert and Josh were new to the school. Robert was short, black, and pretty cool by anyone's standards. Josh, on the other hand, was a dork to the max, taped glasses and all. Nicole (real name, we're still friends) had been at the school the year before but had not been in my class. I'll mention her more later. I was also friends with a red haired boy named Joey. The beginning of the year went well as I remained relatively unnoticed. There were snide remarks every once in a while but nothing I couldn't deal with. I became comfortable enough to resume my status as 'the smart kid.' Big mistake. Everything turned around a month into the year. I remember that very day. All day I was so glad to be back to my old self, answering all of the teacher's questions, getting high scores on everything, I didn't notice Dean and George with their friends in the back. At recess that day it all began. I say it began in 4th grade but truly the entire journey started right then and there. George's friend asked me to help him get his stuff together before recess, and I was a nice guy and so I did. How was I supposed to know it was a set up? By the time I got to recess the trap was set. George's friend Ryan asked me to come play with him on the lower field, which coincidentally was out of the view of the teachers. I never saw it coming. I followed him down and as soon as I rounded the corner of the hill Dean grabbed my arms. I was fat, Dean was a jock. I stood no chance. George walked up, spit in my face and asked me if I thought I was better than them, smarter. I said not at all. He hit me in the gut, hard, and told me not to lie to him. I was confused and said I wasn't. He kicked me as hard as he could in the shin. In a lot of pain and wanting it to stop I told him what I thought he wanted to hear. I said fine that I did think I was smarter. Before I could finish my thought his fist hit me in the face, knocking me to the ground. They all spit on me laughing. Ryan kicked me in the back of the head, Dean stepped down on my knees. Then they all ran as the bell rang. I curled up in a ball wondering what I could have possibly done to deserve what had just happened to me. When the teacher found me I told her i fell down the hill and hit a rock. She sent me to the nurse. I have to say, through my entire ordeal at Cannon the nurse was the only adult who seemed to care. When I got to her she said, with disbelief, "So you fell, huh?" I kept to my story. She shook her head, knowing the truth but not wanting to make things any worse. I went back to class. I went home and told my mom the same story. I was very clumsy as a kid so she believed it without much convincing. A few days later I came in to find new assigned seats, and I was seated next to Megan, a girl who I had a big crush on. In band, I told Robert that I had a crush on Megan, and he proceeded to tell Dean. Dean spread it around the whole school that I liked her. To my huge embarrassment and disappointment, Megan was so embarrassed to be liked by the weird kid she had her seat moved. For the rest of the year, at least twice a week I had my head banged against a locker, got punched in the gut, got thrown into the jungle gym, and so on. I was miserable. I was called Mr. Fluff, fatty, Alard, gaywad, etc. My self esteem was at a record low. I had a teacher who hated me, Mrs. Wilson, and made my life hell. I started hurting myself around this time just to get out of class and away from being universally hated. I remember after the Megan incident I came home and bawled my eyes out to my Mom wondering why anybody would do that to me. I remember I was picked last for George's team in kickball, and we lost. He blamed me and so as punishment the next day I was taken down to the lower field, circled by the team, and kicked into submission. It went on and on. We went on a field trip to see a play, I was on the first floor and from the balcony rocks and pencils and all other sorts of objects were thrown at me. But it was different. For the first time, George got in trouble. George NEVER got in trouble. I was so excited. But all that happened was he got a 'stern talking to' and was let go. He was mad, too. I had to be punished for letting them get caught. So once again they beat me to a pulp. Robert wanted to be friends but didn't want to lose his other ones, so he started drifting away from me. Joey was the same way. Josh and I were the most unpopular kids in the grade. Josh managed to avoid any physical conflict, mainly because I drew anything of the sort directed at him to me (he was a scrawny dork who wouldn't have been able to stand up to Ryan, Dean, and George for more than a second) but he was still ridiculed non-stop. There was a new kid at the school who became popular after he beat me up. Let me let that sink in: BEATING ME UP was a speed street to popularity. I came home always in physical and emotional pain. My mom saw me changing from a happy child to someone who almost never smiled, who almost wasn't a child anymore because of his experiences. But I never let her see anything physical. My reasoning for that I've never fully figured out. Part of it was that I was afraid. I was afraid of my mom going to the school and my being punished as a consequence. I was afraid that if she found out the extent of the things I was going through, she would pull me out of the school, and the one thing that scared me more than my tormentors was change. I figured it was bad but for all I knew it was much worse where I would go next. But in truth, I was also trying to protect her. My little sister, Michelle, was born that year. She is the light of my life. However, no matter how much I loved her, at home I had always been the center of attention. Now the baby came in. Now, not only was I being put down and isolated at school, I saw myself as sidelined at home. My mother went through postpartum depression and was not in a position to support me. My stepdad loved me and Michelle and my mother very much, but in truth didn't know how to truly be supportive as a father, though through no fault of his own and I don't blame him for it. In short, however, I felt absolutely alone. More than I had ever felt in my life. I hated myself. I know how this is going to sound, but it's the truth. Around this time is the first time I contemplated suicide. I know, at that age how could I possibly think like that, but I did. I would go into the bathroom and be using it and in my mind I would picture just hanging. How it would be so much better because obviously if they felt the need to treat me this way I must make them angry and they'd be happy I was finally gone. It would take pressure off of my mom and Michael. I just wanted out. I can't stress it enough, there's always that feeling of just wanting everything around you to just stop and it keeps going no matter what and you just can't take it anymore and then... tragedy. I understand how it feels. But I couldn't do it. I told myself it would get better. I had good grades. Then, at the end of the year, even that was taken from me. One of the things that got me through was looking forward to having high honors at the end of the year. My teacher who hated me gave me a C. I had never gotten below an 85 in her class, on a ten point scale, and she gave me a C. It was enough to get me off of honors. I took it to my mom who went to the school and got it changed. I got my honors, in private. But that wasn't the point. I hadn't gotten honors with my classmates, so I was no longer even the smart kid. I was just fat, weird, and hated. But no one cared. But once again, I had made it through. Another, terrible year, was over. I would never be the same again.

Gotta Be Tough

The last time I posted on this site, I left off at 8. I am 17 years old so I still have a lot to say. I'm not on here too complain or make people feel sorry for me. It says it's a place for people to talk and that's all I want, just to talk and get things off my chest. Anyway, continuing on after the 3rd grade my life was pretty normal and I was happy. I was known as the tomboy and had a lot of friends, mostly guys, but thats how I liked it. Girls didn't like me and I didn't like them, it all worked out. I had some friends move and made some new ones. I was a normal kid. The only thing that made me different other than being one of the guys, was that I had ADHD. No, I'm not trying to say that this is a terrible disease and it's made my life harder, just a part of my life I think I should share. I had to take medication since I was 6 and stopped taking it in middle school when I turned 12. It made me not eat and by age 11, grade 6, I weighed 65 pounds, border line under-weight. I didn't mind though. I mean I was healthy, I was sick, and I didn't suffer from any of the symptoms of malnutrition. My mom was happy for me because she knew that with this medicine I would never get fat and worry about my body through adolescence. I was teased a little bit by this guy in my neighborhood named Bryan (not real name) for being so skinny. He would call me names, pick on me, and yes even hit me. From the ages of 11 to 14, Bryan would hit me almost everyday, whether it be slapping, kicking, punching, or throwing things at me. At 11 I didn't understand what was going on and I though it was normal because my new best friend Rick (not real name) didn't seem to mind. At age 12 I was off the medicine and eating normal and becoming a normal weight, even though my mom didn't think I had to gain weight. When I was 12 I had my first kiss with this guy named Sam (not really name). He was m first crush and I really liked him a lot. There were 2 big factors though. One was that he was Bryan's brother, and he was still hitting me. Two, he didn't want to tell anyone about us dating even though we both liked each other. But I wanted to feel wanted because I had friends, and technically a boyfriend, who would just stand there and watch me get hit and not even say stop. If I cried Bryan would laugh and sometimes hit harder. I didn't want them to think I was weak so I made sure not to cry or show them how much pain I was in. I wouldn't show them, but in private I had my own means of coping. Ever since I was little I have always looked up to my older brother. I would watch him play sports and I would admire how tough he was. I wanted to be like him so bad, I wanted to be tough. So while I got hit, and while I was never able to show in public how much I cared for Sam, I would not cry. I never showed pain, tears, or even hate. I became a cutter. I felt so good doing it, I was getting beat yet it wasn't enough for me. My razor to my arms and writs was the only thing I had control over. I was gaining weight and I wasn't used to it because of how skinny I used to be, I had an amazing boyfriend that no body cold know about, and the brother of my boyfriend who every time he saw me for some reason felt the need to hit me. But I was strong, I didn't let it affect me. I had to be tough, tears weren't a sign of strength, but a sign of weakness. As the bruises formed and the blood ran down my arm, no tears ran down my face. Every day I got up I just told myself the same thing. Don't cry Dani, don't get upset Dani, just be tough, you gotta be tough....even if it kills you (TBC) daniforest@ymail.com

What I Can Think to Say.

Most of my life has not been that interesting, it hasn't warranted any special news report about how great or terrible it is. So far I've just been trying to live my life with what I've been given. At times it's been a lot. I have the luck to have been blessed with a mother who would turn the world backward to help me if she didn't believe in the laws of physics. I've also been cursed without a father, but I haven't minded that much.

It's been a series of a lot of gives and a few takes every now and then. From when I was very young I was forced to feel and be a lot older than my body was. I did not have the advantage of a long learning curve because I needed to make the right decisions then, and now. I haven't regretted any of it, it's done me justice in a lot of areas but it's hard to not feel alienated from my peers who haven't lived the same life that I've had to. All in all I can't say that I have the means to ask for anything more than I have, so all I want to do is give.

Me

Im Ashley Petersohn. My life hasnt been terrible but its definately not perfect either. I've been in situations adults could barely handle. Ive been teased and bullied because i was the tomboy; the nobody. Ive always rathered to run around and play and get dirty and sweaty. Of course most girls arent like that. So i dont really get along with most girls. And boys are intimidated by me. thats probally why i havent always had that many friends. I usually dont express my feelings; im so use to handling things on my own and not having to rely on anyone else. I dealt with the pain in harmful ways like cutting and burning and attempting suicide. I try not to complain because i have clothes on my back i have a roof over my head and i always have atleast 3 meals a day. Some people dont even know when their next meal is so i try not to feel pity for myself and complain. But sometimes it becomes to much. Im gay. My parents accept me but not 100%. Me and my dad have a good relationship he's always been my best friend but since ive gotten older he has become clingy and our relationship has kind of fallen apart. Me and my mom fight alot. We go through our phases of barely talking to non-stop talking and going shopping. So i guess my reltionship with her is kind of Bi-polar. My parents fight but whos dont? My family is honestly crazy lik in the good way and the bad. But im here for everyone i would take a bullet for anyone because thats the type of person i am. So if anyone feels like they need to talk or vent or whatever im here wether i know you or not. Ajewell1994@gmail.com 704-608-3716

Life?

Hey, my name is Emilee Gunther, but most people call me Gunther. My life has been easy to say the least. My parents divorsed when I was four, but I know it was for the better. My dad give me the child support check and I give it to my mom, thats the only time that I've been in the middle. But its not really the middle. I love my family, even though they drive me crazy some times. I cant say that I've had the hard life. Yes, I fight with my parents but what kid doesnt? But lately my mom and I have been getting along. When I came out of the closet, it was like every weight had been lifted. As soon as I was honest, everything was better. Who knew honesty was the key to a healthy relationship? I have never been bullied or picked on in my short sixteen year life. My role in this is just to comfort. I listen to everyone and help them to the best of my abilities. I can talk your ears off, but I know when to listen. Even though Ive never been through hell, I know what its like to be the outcast. Being the gay kid in the school has its perks, but knowing that people hate you just because your different is the worst feeling in the world. Feel free to email me, Id love to listen. guntherTONIC@gmail.com

I'm not special

Hi, my name is Dani Forest. I can say that I have lived a pretty normal life, I've been healthy, have a great older brother, and my parents are still together. This is not your typical sob story when I say how bad I had it cause I really didn't. I go to school, have nice clothes, I even have my own car. Am I saying I've had the worst life, no, am I saying it's been perfect..... couldn't be further from the truth. My life was normal till I hit the age of 8, but I'll tell you the normal stuff about me. I was born in Hampton Virginia and when I was 3 I moved to North Carolina. I went to a daycare and unlike most girls who played with barbies, I played with the boys. I will forever be teased for that. I have an older brother who is 4 years older than me. He was really into sports so I was always around stuff like football, basketball, and baseball. My life as a tomboy began when I turned 5. All I wanted to do was play sports with the guys. Apparently not everyone likes that especially if your name is Peter (not real name). I was in the 3rd grade and I had a best friend named Drew (not real name). We always hung out and he would always include me when the guys, played sports. Peter was new to the area and wanted to hang out with me and Drew. It was fine at first, till Peter started teasing Drew for hanging out with a girl. But I guess in Peter's defense, he didn't start the teasing, the teacher did. I wish I was making this up but the teacher would single me out in front of everyone and make jokes about how much me and Drew hung out. It just made it that much easier for Peter to take away my best friend. I'll never forget it, we wrote letters at the end of our 3rd grade year to the most important people in the class to us. I wanted to write one to Drew but Peter said if I wrote one to him he would stay friends with me, so I wrote 2, one to him the other to Drew. Drew wrote one to me too, saying how happy he was we were friends and how glad he was that I understood when to back off when Peter was around. We leave for recess and I'm talking with Peter and all I hear is these kids chanting "Down with Dani, Down with Dani" , stupid I know but at 8 years old it hurts. I look to my best friend for help but it was too late. Peter had already grabbed him and Drew was chanting along with them. I was so sad and confused, I told Peter that I did what he said but he didn't care, he said it wasn't enough. I started crying. People came to me asking what was wrong and I told them. They took me to Peter and they said "see what you've done". My vision was blurry I didn't see where I was going and I tripped. Peter started to laugh and I said what you think it's funny when I hurt myself, he said "yeah if you did stuff like that more often I'd hangout with you more. So I got an idea, if I hurt myself, I'll have my friend back. I found a stick lying on the ground and started scrapping it rapidly up and down my arm. When one arm hurt too much I'd switch to the other one, I have no idea how long I did this for. In the end the tops of my arms were bleeding and I was in a lot of pain but I was smiling. I walked over to Peter showed him my arms and said there does that make you happy. He just laughed and walked away. I lost my best friend that day and that is also when I became the pushover I am today. Someone who is willing to do anything just to have a friend and someone who will care. Guess that was too much to ask for at age 8. (TBC)

If you ever thought bullying wasnt a big deal....

Think again. Bullying is the number one cause of suicide in adolescents. Watch:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gE5yINOn4N4&playnext_from=QL&feature=bf_play&playnext=1

Lauryn Suda - My Story

Hey guys! My name is Lauryn Suda and my life growing up, still to this day, was and is extremely difficult. When I was 2 years old, my mom had my little brother Josh. He was born with Dandywalkersyndrome and Cebralpaulsy. He was also born missing the third of his brain. Before the age of 3, he had 21 brain operations and 4 eye surgeries so he and my parents were in and out of the hospital. This meant I had to stay with family and friends. This was really hard on me because I always felt alone and unwanted. When I was in first grade, we moved to Mooresville NC. When I was in elementary school, I used to always get bullied. People would make fun of me and say I was ugly and would always point out my flaws. When I got to intermediate school, it got worse. The kids on the bus would make fun of my blonde eyebrows and say that I didn't have any. They would make fun of the way I look and make fun of my clothes. I've been a cheerleader and dancer since 1st grade and they would always make fun of me saying that I couldn't dance or cheer. (I later found out that they were saying that because they were jealous. When I tried out for the middle school cheerleading team, I actally had the second highest score.) But anyway, this was very painful for me. Again, I felt like I wasn't wanted. When I came home, it wasn't any better. My little brother was always getting the attention and I would purposely do things to get the attention from my parents but they knew I was faking it. Every night, I would cry. I always wondered what it would be like if I left, but God told me to stay. He wouldn't give me the feet to run away. Somehow, I overcame what everyone was telling me on the bus and at school. The thing that helped me overcome it most was dance and cheerleading. My coaches knew I was good and that's where I got the attention that I so desperately needed.
This past year, Josh had his brain tumor removed along with a couple other surgeries but during his whole surgery thing, I felt again, unwanted. His story was told everywhere I turned and I grew EXTREMELY sick of it. To the point where it would bring back old memories and I would go to a private place and start crying. He was receiving gifts from my parents' friends and I felt invisible. It's very hard when you grow up with that feeling of being unwanted and invisible. From your family and your friends. Unfortunately, I got it in both places. When I reached High School, the bullying stopped. I can't remember a time where I had ever gotten bullied from anyone. There are times where I do look back and think about the rough times when I was bullied and I do get upset and begin to cry. I remember all the pain I felt and it has left a scar on my life. But without God, dance and cheerleading, I don't think I would have ever survived.

My email is lsuda360@gmail.com. Message me :)

Hey all...

I'll post about the years after, which were much, much worse, tomorrow. The point of this blog is as a support group for people who were bullied and who are being bullied. This blog is welcome to anyone but I will report anyone who makes hateful or disrespectful comments about anyone else.

My email is cercone495@yahoo.com. Message me :)

Hey There.

Hi everyone. My name is Alex Cercone. I'm no different from any other average teenager. I love hanging out with my friends, I play video games, I do my work in school about three quarters of the time, and so on. So what makes me different? I've been through it all, and in the words of Elton John, I'm still standing after all this time. I was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to a single mother with severe allergies and asthma. We didn't have much but we always made it work and we were happy. When I was six, my mom and I moved to Charlotte, North Carolina, and she married my stepfather, Michael. I wasn't your typical little boy. I loved to read more than anything, I was terrible and barely interested in any sports and liked to think and ask questions about everything. I loved to learn. I went through elementary school with ease. It was no challenge for me. Because of this, my mom and Michael decided to send me to a private school, Cannon School, which was a highly regarded name at the time. In fourth grade I began attending the school, which had a very high tuition. From the start I could tell it was different. The work was more challenging, yes, but that wasn't the main thing. These kids came from privileged backgrounds, had a lot of money. I didn't see myself like this. From the very beginning I was an outcast. I was a nine year old boy who disliked physical activity, who preferred math and reading to PE. Even more, I was heavily overweight, of a much higher intelligence than my grade level, and therefore appeared to be a know-it-all. It was just the way I was. But back then, it didn't matter. I wasn't one of the rich kids cause I didn't act like I had money. I definitely wasn't a jock. I couldn't be popular because of my weight and know-it-all status. I didn't fit anywhere. But at first I didn't care. I was excited to be at a new place that actually challenged me. It didn't last long, however. Soon the so-called popular crowd took notice of me. I was weird. And so, it began. All names in this are changed so as not to project blame. I've forgiven everyone for what happened over those years. Anyway, one day at recess a kid named Dean decided to pick on the new kid. I was in the corner with my book. He came over and threw it across the playground with an, "Oops, sorry," snickering as he walked away. I didn't understand why it had happened, but I had been raised to avoid conflict, so I quietly went and got my book. Dean and his friend George didn't like that I didn't have a reaction. They tore my book up, threw it, and walked away laughing. I just went inside. The next day we were in class. My teacher, Ms. Bartol, left the room. Dean took my homework folder and flung it across the room. I was angry at this point and threw his. But we were different. He looked at me and said, "Go get it." And I did. The whole class was laughing at me. I didn't know what to do. I was so embarrassed that I just put my head down and let them. From then on everything got worse. I was picked on every day, being called names and getting knocked over and having my stuff thrown. I hated it but I didn't do anything because I didn't want to be a tattletale. Certain scraps of memory jump out at me. How whenever we did a group project I was told I wasn't allowed in anyone's group. When I actually tried to play basketball with the boys I was pushed into the pole and told to get off the court. Being pushed off the jungle gym. But more than anything else was just feeling alone. Halfway through the year I was diagnosed with ADD, which made me even more different. Life was terrible. But I kept going. Finally I made it through the year. I graduated from elementary school. I made it. But I stayed at Cannon because I feared change, and I figured it wouldn't be any better. But the year was over.