How many... · 4:03am May 3rd, 2013
I was one of those kids. The one who got called names, and put down, the one who was ostracized for being different. I never played ball, because I never wanted to, and kids would think something was wrong with me because of it. People would make fun of me for liking to read, to expand my mind instead of bashing my skull on the pavement learning to skate. Well I say look at me now! I’m an artist, and an idea factory, and look at you…Taking meds for head injuries and broken bodies…WHO’S UGLY NOW?!
…How many…How many of you, were the kids who were put down, or called names? How many of you grew up in abusive homes but were too sacred to admit it, and when the kids found out they laughed? How many of you were called ‘Freak’ for not liking sports, or were into something nobody else was? How many almost ended their own lives because the torture was too much to bear? I know of at least one, and he’s typing this.
How many didn’t go through with it because of something simple they held onto, their life raft in the hurricane of depression, sadness and hopelessness? How many would have ended it, had it not been for those little rays of hope, those lifelines holding you to this earth, the thing you would do anything to carry on for?
You want to know what my lifeline was?
My dog. Why her, of all the things I could have held on for?
Because she was my only real friend in those times. The only one who would be sad at my passing. Noone but her would have wondered where I’d gone. And so, to keep her happy I stayed, and I endured. I took the sadness and depression and bottled it up, and put on a smile, just for her.
And you know what? I’m glad I did. I’m glad I stuck around, because there are so many things I would have missed. Spending time with my cousin, learning to draw, being the first to graduate from my class at seventeen, an entire year early.
I know people who think they’re ugly, and maybe they’re not poster-perfect models walking down the catwalk, but they are some of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known.
So how many of you endured, how many of you to this day…Still endure?
I feel you, man...
It takes guts to talk about one's emotions like this. Props given.
But I did happen to be one of those kids... I was constantly picked on through Elementary and Middle School...
Hell, it still kind of happens in High School... But not as bad...
1051212
Thanks.
About the same for me, late elementary and all through middle school was just hell...High school was a bit of a toss up, sometimes it was bad, others it was not so much.
1051276 Exactly...