that should be a song title.
i want to give up on life right now. ive lost so fucking much in so little time.
three deaths in one week. my friend who still refers to me as her best fiend is being a total fucking bitch to me because im a mess… and my boyfriend he with his friend because he had no one to skate with tonight. what the fuck is this.
do i look like loads of sunshine right now.
MY FUCKING DOG IS DEAD! THE CLOSEST THING I HAD TO MY OWN MOTHER IS DEAD!. and my great grandfather is dead.
i need help. i need someone to hold me up when i just want to fall into my own tears. i need new friends.
and my boyfriend… well he just didn’t make a very good choice tonight. but guys do that sometimes.. even in the worst of times.
Throughout life, a person is often presented challenges. A person learns from these challenges about themselves and the world around them. My dad was my “solid sunshine”, strong and beaming with love. He had always taught me to be strong. I learned that I was different, I could never understand it, but if I could, it may have made life easier.
In elementary school, I was never popular, although I came home all the time and told my dad about all the friends I had made, who, in actuality, were just the classmates whom I never spoke to. I knew I was lying, but I didn’t want my dad to worry about me. I was made fun of every day, was always alone at recess, and was blamed for thing others did. One morning I was taken to my desk where I found that white thick glue coated everything inside. All was ruined, but I wasn’t responsible for this. It didn’t matter whether I did it or not, I still had to clean it out with my hands and paper towels. Kids snickered and my teacher was furious at me. I tried to be strong, but no one was on my side.
The bullying continued through elementary school. In fourth grade, I made a best friend. I still got picked on, but she was there to pick me up when I was down. When she moved away my dad knew I was sad, but he didn’t know it was because I was alone again. The beginning of fifth grade wasn’t as bad as the preceding years. There was only a little more than a few who still bullied me, so when I moved, I was relived to start a new school. In the new school, people liked me at first, but soon the bullying resumed. I had no one to play with at recess or even to sit with at lunch. I cried to my teacher numerous times, with no results. I felt broken and unfixable; like I wasn’t strong.
I had already lied to my parents for four years about having friends. How could I tell them the truth? I couldn’t admit that I wasn’t strong like my dad. So I toughed it out until the year ended and moved to Florida with my dad. I was worried when I began sixth grade, but I made friends. The bullying had stopped, but I still questioned why I had gone through so much, what made me so different; I’ve decided that it doesn’t matter.
The bullying actually built me up. I know to be strong, despite what people say. As a matter of fact, I am strong, and in a way, I always was. I never gave up on myself, because I knew I had someone in my life that was strong when I wasn’t. He believed in me more than I believed in myself. My solid sunshine got me through all the heart-ache, and he didn’t even know it.