Melanie started her letter to me talking of the courage to tell her story. To think it doesn’t take an enormous amount of courage to share specific insults and hurtful words said to you is to think that it is easy to relive the worst moments of your life. When I get these stories I usually have to read them many times so that I can see them with calm, which is usually after the third read or so. Melanie vividly recalls the harsh words said to her and does not see a solution. What can you offer to help her? ~Alan Eisenberg
Their Taunts and Insults
You should know that I am a 17-year-old girl who comes from Germany. And was bullied from kindergarten up to high school. But for me it was the worst time from primary to secondary school.
In 2002, my parents and I moved into a small village. A new home also means new school. For the first few weeks, it was quiet around me. I had found some friends. And then it hit me straight in the face. I did not get along with the new school curriculum and was therefore called Dumb. It got worse as the summer came. Instead of making ordinary sports, we went swimming. This meant that all must change together. However I was for a 7-8 year old girl, already quite well-developed physically. They began to point with a finger at me and laugh. They insult me. Monster. Freak. Witch. My friends turned their backs on me. They said that I am no longer usable. One day a boy came to see me and put a knife to my throat. He threatened to kill me. This boy was in a class below me. No one helped me. I was hated. I cried a lot. At school (and at home). This was also the reason why I was called crybaby.
I came into main school. Again, it was quiet for the first few weeks. I had made friends.
But then a friend wrote a letter to me. The letter was written that I was a bitch and I should disappear out of her life. Shortly after the letter, began a group of boys to bully me. Shove. Pick with their fingers. Hair pulling. So they began. But at some point they wanted more.
They threatened to rape me. So I told my parents. And my mother went straight to the school. But the school has done nothing. However the guys forgot the rape threats.
In return, they insulted me. Bad. Bitch. Miscarriage. Whore. Freak. Monster. Witch.
Ugly. Fat. Amazon. When a bird would poop on my head, I would be pretty. They shouted “yuck” when I walked past. And when I touched them they fell back. For this they would say that they would have to be disinfected. My so-called friends always watched. Laughed. They ignored me.
So I started to pull me back into myself. I lost confidence in the people. So I created my own world where I felt safe. They quickly realized. They spread, that I had depression. They spoke also of illnesses. And that was the point where I gave up everything.
I had no friends. The teacher looked away. And the bullying was getting worse.
I felt dead. Unintentionally. Hated. Unloved. I saw myself as a monster. I tried to kill me. The first time had not worked. Although it had left its traces. I tried it a few times. I gave up. It did not work. So I started something else. I started listening to them. If they had problems, they always came to me. And after I had helped them, they gave me a small smile. But that was about it. They bullied me further. Until the day where I was beaten.
I had not defended myself. I said to myself “It’s okay. It will soon be over.”
I went to high school. It was most of the time quiet. But when I once wore an unusual T-shirt, they started the same again. Phantom or ghost of the school they called me.
But a teacher stood in front of me. I will never forget. If we had to work in groups, he had allowed me to work alone. I had him however only once a week. As long as he was not there, they would continue.
Now I have finished school. But I have no friends. But then I think to myself, it’s better without. I like my peace.