Story Teller's Assignment #6: Challenge Accepted!

I'd like to think I've overcome quite a few obstacles in my life; my biggest and most challenging one has to be depression.

I warn you now, this will be a long entry so totally understand if you don't want to read it!

Most people say that "school days are the best days of your life". To me, that is the biggest lie I've ever been told in my twenty-two years living. School was the most unhappy time for me.

I'd been bullied at Primary School but it got worse when I went to Secondary School when I turned eleven. The bulk of my bullying started when I was about twelve/thirteen. I'd get called names, stuff would be thrown at me, and then one day on the school bus I got beaten up. Not buy girls though, by a group of guys. Why did I get beaten up? I really don't know. 

That day was a non-uniform day, the bus was packed and I had to stand. The driver kept getting us to move further down the back and I ended up standing near a group of "cool" guys from my yeargroup. I didn't say anything to them, but I remember they started calling me "spotty freak" and "witch". Then one of them stole my Hello Kitty bracelet and started stamping on it. When I tried to pick it up, two other guys pinned me whilst one started punching me in the arms and legs. I burst into tears. Two girls who were a couple of years above me hugged me and when I was off the bus called my Mum from my mobile. She came and got me, then called the school to say that I wasn't coming back until they sorted out their bullying problem. That never happened. But that's a whole other story and I don't want to make this too long.

A few months after this, it was my birthday. I had some friends over for a sleepover a few days before then when they'd gone home was playing in the street with my little sister Gaga. I was coming down the road on her scooter when a stone jammed in the wheel and I fell off. My arm felt really weird and I started to feel light headed whilst I cradled my deformed looking arm and ran inside. My Mum and Dad rushed me to the hospital; I'd broken my arm. I didn't cry or faint or anything. I sat in A+E for ten hours. They set my arm in a cast then sent me home. Two days later I went back for a check-up. Turns out that the nurse set my arm crooked. I had to go back and stay in hospital for them to re-break and re-set my arm whilst I was put to sleep. I ended up spending my thirteenth birthday stuck in a hospital ward; infact it was on my birthday that they decided to do the operation. When I got home, I got chicken pocks which have scarred my forehead; no I didn't pick them, but try getting dressed with one arm in an "L" shaped cast...

A couple of months after breaking my arm, my Grandma got really sick; she was dying. I don't remember her funeral, all I remember was her brother/great uncle saying "that's my sister in there". A month later he died, followed by his wife. My Dad's family had completely gone, all of a sudden I realised how horrible life truely was. I think when you're young you're very ignorant and until something horrendous happens you have no grasp on what life is truely like, or how precious it can be.

The rest of my school years were full of bad memories, harsh words and heavy metal music; I swear music was the only thing that got me through. I would be too scared to leave the house incase someone tried to beat me up and because I was embarrassed of being called such horrible things. I remember thinking "would anyone truely care or notice if I wasn't here?" but I couldn't ever do anything because I knew it would hurt my family. I'd been offered anti-depressents by my doctor but he said they don't always help and that I should be proud because I was a "beautiful young woman". I certainly didn't feel that way.

I eventually got through my depression when I started college; I decided to go where I knew nobody. I ended up with a great group of friends; they made an effort with me and I'd spend lots of evenings seeing them. I really came out of my shell and started pushing myself to do things and go out. I got to the point where I thought "if you don't like me that's your problem, not mine" and that's how I act now.

Life these days is much better and I'm proud of being capable of overcoming so many horrible expriences. All of this happened between 2002-2003, they certainly have to be the worst years of my life. If I can get through; three deaths, being beaten up, a birthday in hospital alone, a broken arm and chicken pocks; you can get through anything.

You make your own happiness and you control your own destiny. No matter how hard life ever seems, I guarantee you someone elses life is much worse.

Try to stay positive; finding a light will always help you out of any darkness. ♥