I Was a Target For Bullying When I Was Young
To all those who have experienced school harassment, I am sending you my testimony on bullying...
Thank you for your visit and have a pleasant reading!
When I was in the third grade, in middle school, my relationship with the classmates was sometimes heated, sometimes painful. From the first weeks after I had to repeat a year, I would soon have been put aside. Although I wanted to get to know this new classroom, I couldn't do much about it/There was not much I could have done. I was cast aside from the first day on. No one seemed to want to get to know me. The whole classroom knew that I failed my last year, which did not help/which made matters worse. I felt hurt and cruelly misunderstood. There was also some jealousy on the part of some of my classmates. I especially remember that moment when I received the highest mark on a test or simply when I had the answer to everything in a certain subject, as in the course of an English European session, some of my comrades were fiercely jealous and were trying their hardest to discredit me in the eyes of the teacher by belittling me or by saying bad things about me.
Those were the only moments when I could hope to shine a little and catch up with the other students. I felt ashamed, I was disgusted with myself, I felt a sense of constant guilt. To make matters worse, my notes, quarter after quarter, tumbled ever lower. When the time came for recreation, I went to take refuge in the toilet, always trying to hide my profound uneasiness. I could cry as much as I wanted, struggle, no one came to my rescue. English was a subject in which I thrived and in which I forgot all the worries I had. I had become the "ugly little duck, the weak element of the group". The students were not the only ones to make unpleasant remarks to me and to make fun of me: there were my teachers, too, who sacked me daily. The main teacher humiliated me frequently, too, announcing in a loud voice, proudly, my poor marks in many disciplines in front of the class. It was pure humiliation. All my teachers, absolutely all my teachers, have turned a blind eye to what was happening. The teachers and students were in cahoots to hurt me as much as possible. The students also turned a blind eye to what was happening, except a girl who supported me morally. They were all accomplices. By dint of hearing that I was a nobody, and so on, that I was worthless and that I was useless, I really started to believe it myself. I almost gave up my life by trying to throw myself over the stair railings. I barely escaped with my life, almost lost my life for it. And the worst thing about this story is that nobody came to get me out of where I was. Even the principal of the school did not intervene. They all looked at me with folded arms. All the remarks that were made to me either on my school work or on my physique quickly finished me off. Every morning I woke up with a heavy bundle in my belly, I felt lonely, abandoned, I felt like everyone was looking at me, was judging me. Revenge: This word was never off my lips at the time. When I was not in class, I always wondered what they could say about me. Depressed at the age of fifteen, my over-weighting plunged me further into the darkness of my soul, into a world unsuited to my situation, with no one to understand me. I felt different, and everyone knew how to remind me that. Pushing, teasing, insults. Between the rejection of my comrades and the lack of supervision of my professors, the weight of the suffering became too heavy. One day, during recess, as I was heading out of a Spanish course, and I had a Mathematics course in the next hour, I was walking quietly, when all of a sudden, Leo-poll, one of my comrades, threw me his goblet of orange juice in full face with all his might.
At this very moment, the Maths teacher, saw the scene and put all the blame on me without really trying to figure that out. In the evening, when I went to bed, I kept repeating the words that had been said to me during the day. In the morning, when I took the bus, I always heard the same words that came out of the mouth of a comrade in particular this same Leo-poll: Il est grillé, le Grillon! (This comrade used my surname to humiliate me). When it came to doing my homework, I was lacking in concentration more and more. Sometimes I forgot to do my homework. My whole grade point average took a beating. I was in the grip of all my comrades, I could not say anything, for fear of being punished again. My classmates took advantage of the absence of teachers in the classroom to insult me, calling me names, to openly mock me, and sometimes even pull my hair. My parents never noticed anything, I hid everything from them, told them nothing. On the way home, I invented in my head all kinds of scenarios in which I would tell my parents that everything had gone well, I gradually shut myself up in a vicious cycle from day to day and it lasted one year. After I told my parents, they really blamed the school because of the lack of vigilance on the part of the teachers.
Many years later, memories remain engraved in my memory.
To all those who suffer in silence, do not do what I have done, talk about it! Do not give up! If everything seems insurmountable, never forget that determination will save you, that it is just a rough time. This is obviously a temporary lapse and not who you truly are. Nobody has the right to make you doubt yourself, no human being is superior to another. What saved me was the love of my parents and sister. Never stand alone, find yourself a passion, this will help you get out of your anguish. Don't despair, please don't lose hope, denounce those who harass you. Even when death seems to reach out to you, fight till the very end for injustice to be punished. Fight for your youth and never let anyone tell you that you are worthless.
If I have one last piece of advice to give to those who suffer: make it known! Do not be silent because the more you suffer, the more you will suffer and the more others will take advantage of it. I thought it would pass, I kept hoping I'd get over it, that they would stop and that everything would end but it does not stop if you don't stand up to your bullies. One day, at the end of the school year, I talked to my parents, told them everything, and they took the necessary steps to get me out of this school. At the present time, I still bear some irreversible sequelae. I am much more suspicious of others, I developed a social phobia. Some have offered me their apologies. As for others, they never came to apologize. I had a hard time accepting their apologies. I didn't want to believe it myself. In my mind, they crossed the line they shouldn't have. If I were led to see again those who did not come to apologize, I would tell them that they made me stronger inside. Looking back, I think it is better to take the positive side of things.
Thank you for your visit and have a pleasant reading!
When I was in the third grade, in middle school, my relationship with the classmates was sometimes heated, sometimes painful. From the first weeks after I had to repeat a year, I would soon have been put aside. Although I wanted to get to know this new classroom, I couldn't do much about it/There was not much I could have done. I was cast aside from the first day on. No one seemed to want to get to know me. The whole classroom knew that I failed my last year, which did not help/which made matters worse. I felt hurt and cruelly misunderstood. There was also some jealousy on the part of some of my classmates. I especially remember that moment when I received the highest mark on a test or simply when I had the answer to everything in a certain subject, as in the course of an English European session, some of my comrades were fiercely jealous and were trying their hardest to discredit me in the eyes of the teacher by belittling me or by saying bad things about me.
Those were the only moments when I could hope to shine a little and catch up with the other students. I felt ashamed, I was disgusted with myself, I felt a sense of constant guilt. To make matters worse, my notes, quarter after quarter, tumbled ever lower. When the time came for recreation, I went to take refuge in the toilet, always trying to hide my profound uneasiness. I could cry as much as I wanted, struggle, no one came to my rescue. English was a subject in which I thrived and in which I forgot all the worries I had. I had become the "ugly little duck, the weak element of the group". The students were not the only ones to make unpleasant remarks to me and to make fun of me: there were my teachers, too, who sacked me daily. The main teacher humiliated me frequently, too, announcing in a loud voice, proudly, my poor marks in many disciplines in front of the class. It was pure humiliation. All my teachers, absolutely all my teachers, have turned a blind eye to what was happening. The teachers and students were in cahoots to hurt me as much as possible. The students also turned a blind eye to what was happening, except a girl who supported me morally. They were all accomplices. By dint of hearing that I was a nobody, and so on, that I was worthless and that I was useless, I really started to believe it myself. I almost gave up my life by trying to throw myself over the stair railings. I barely escaped with my life, almost lost my life for it. And the worst thing about this story is that nobody came to get me out of where I was. Even the principal of the school did not intervene. They all looked at me with folded arms. All the remarks that were made to me either on my school work or on my physique quickly finished me off. Every morning I woke up with a heavy bundle in my belly, I felt lonely, abandoned, I felt like everyone was looking at me, was judging me. Revenge: This word was never off my lips at the time. When I was not in class, I always wondered what they could say about me. Depressed at the age of fifteen, my over-weighting plunged me further into the darkness of my soul, into a world unsuited to my situation, with no one to understand me. I felt different, and everyone knew how to remind me that. Pushing, teasing, insults. Between the rejection of my comrades and the lack of supervision of my professors, the weight of the suffering became too heavy. One day, during recess, as I was heading out of a Spanish course, and I had a Mathematics course in the next hour, I was walking quietly, when all of a sudden, Leo-poll, one of my comrades, threw me his goblet of orange juice in full face with all his might.
At this very moment, the Maths teacher, saw the scene and put all the blame on me without really trying to figure that out. In the evening, when I went to bed, I kept repeating the words that had been said to me during the day. In the morning, when I took the bus, I always heard the same words that came out of the mouth of a comrade in particular this same Leo-poll: Il est grillé, le Grillon! (This comrade used my surname to humiliate me). When it came to doing my homework, I was lacking in concentration more and more. Sometimes I forgot to do my homework. My whole grade point average took a beating. I was in the grip of all my comrades, I could not say anything, for fear of being punished again. My classmates took advantage of the absence of teachers in the classroom to insult me, calling me names, to openly mock me, and sometimes even pull my hair. My parents never noticed anything, I hid everything from them, told them nothing. On the way home, I invented in my head all kinds of scenarios in which I would tell my parents that everything had gone well, I gradually shut myself up in a vicious cycle from day to day and it lasted one year. After I told my parents, they really blamed the school because of the lack of vigilance on the part of the teachers.
Many years later, memories remain engraved in my memory.
To all those who suffer in silence, do not do what I have done, talk about it! Do not give up! If everything seems insurmountable, never forget that determination will save you, that it is just a rough time. This is obviously a temporary lapse and not who you truly are. Nobody has the right to make you doubt yourself, no human being is superior to another. What saved me was the love of my parents and sister. Never stand alone, find yourself a passion, this will help you get out of your anguish. Don't despair, please don't lose hope, denounce those who harass you. Even when death seems to reach out to you, fight till the very end for injustice to be punished. Fight for your youth and never let anyone tell you that you are worthless.
If I have one last piece of advice to give to those who suffer: make it known! Do not be silent because the more you suffer, the more you will suffer and the more others will take advantage of it. I thought it would pass, I kept hoping I'd get over it, that they would stop and that everything would end but it does not stop if you don't stand up to your bullies. One day, at the end of the school year, I talked to my parents, told them everything, and they took the necessary steps to get me out of this school. At the present time, I still bear some irreversible sequelae. I am much more suspicious of others, I developed a social phobia. Some have offered me their apologies. As for others, they never came to apologize. I had a hard time accepting their apologies. I didn't want to believe it myself. In my mind, they crossed the line they shouldn't have. If I were led to see again those who did not come to apologize, I would tell them that they made me stronger inside. Looking back, I think it is better to take the positive side of things.
