I'm being bullied - 

I was attacked

Mr. Constantine

This article is written for entertainment purposes.

The characters in the article do not actually exist.

I'm being bullied - 

I was attacked

...What do you think of people who end their own lives by suicide?

...Do you think they are selfish or desperate?

no! It's not at all.

… The most selfish people are the ones who hurt other people's feelings. How do you play with other people's pain? Because just some words that don't sound that serious It may be a deep wound in the mind that could kill the whole person...

My name is Damisa, I'm nineteen years old. I graduated from a famous private high school. Good home status But now I don't study further. I moved out and lived alone on an island in the province. You might think, how could a girl with a seemingly normal life like mine have anything to do with suicide? Let's just say I'll tell you about it.

It all started when I was twelve years old. I was a good student and a hard worker and had almost no friends. Most of the people who come want to take advantage of me. (In my opinion at the time) I had almost no friends but that wasn't a problem because I didn't like to hang out with anyone. I'm not sure how it started, but then I realized that I was hated by my classmates and almost all my friends at school, and it got more and more intense.

The reason might be because of my final exam. my classmate "Prakaiduean", the two-faced girl who secretly looked at the answers on my exam paper throughout the exam. She sat behind me and tried to nudge me all the time. I tried to ignore her because I didn't want to get in trouble with the examiner, but that's probably why everyone hates me.

After taking the exam, Sakkaduean kept looking at me and other friends acted strangely towards me. They teased me by bumping into me and pushed their male friends on me, but it wasn't a big deal to me. So I chose to ignore it. After the test results came out, I got the best grade in the class. But it seems like it makes other people hate me even more.

“Cheater!” Sakkaduang and the other six people standing in front of the classroom shouted at me when they saw me approaching. After speaking, they walked over and slammed into me one by one. I don't know what I did to make them hate me so much. I am treated like this every day to the point where I don't dare speak to anyone.

I was called a cheating kid every day, a trader in Busaba's parents' school. My other roommate almost didn't want to sell me lunch. I hardly knew what I was doing wrong.

"What am I going to do to you?!" I'm not a cheater!” Was that the day I couldn't stand their actions? I stood up and shouted to the whole room with tears in my eyes, but all I got was laughter from my friends in the whole room. That moment I felt like the whole world hated me. It penetrates into the heart. They kept calling me this until I secretly cried alone in the bathroom and didn't even dare go out to eat lunch.

I later found out that the reason they called me a cheater was because a classmate named Prakaduan told everyone that I cheated in almost every exam. But every day I went home as if nothing had happened, pretending to be strong and cheerful in front of my parents because I didn't want them to worry about me.

That's when I dreamed of becoming a designer. I sketched it in my favorite sketchbook. I sit and do it every day and every spare time I have, whether at school or at home. I've been doing this for over two months. I forget all the bad things that happened. I can smile again without having to pretend. But then the nightmare returned when my former friend secretly saw me while I was designing a dress.

That afternoon, before returning home, my notebook was lost. I looked everywhere for it but found it next to a trash can. But when I opened it, it came out inside. The inside was torn, not a single piece was left, and it fell to the ground worthless. My roommate stood and laughed as tears streamed down my face. I turned to look at them angrily, and of course the person who came up with this plan must have been glowing again as usual.

I picked up a big sweeper and walked in and hit her on the back so hard she fell down crying. I kept pounding until a male friend from another room came and pushed me away. Sparkleuan threw a pen at my face until the tip of the pen cut my nose, leaving a scar to this day.

The incident reached the ears of my parents. Back home, I was punished by being hit with a leather belt for my Girl Scout uniform. I was forbidden from drawing again. He said how good it was that Prakaduan's parents didn't report the matter to the police. But he never thought to ask his own daughter the reason why he did that.

I expressed my pain in a picture story in another book. When the matter was over, I burned it.

After the events of that day, no one bothered me. The whole school didn't care about me because they thought I was a reserved child with a violent temper. I was alone and didn't care about anyone. I hate group activities. Activities that must be done together with friends throughout the school. Every time I had homework the next day I looked like I had a lot of friends because they were just waiting to copy my homework. After peeling it off, they threw it away as worthless.

When I was in my second year of high school. There is an older brother who has transferred to a new school and is the person Prakaduan secretly likes. It seemed like it had nothing to do with me, but this friend got me involved because she told the whole class while that senior was in class that I liked him. "Who would like this? Haha."

Those were the words that came out of that senior's mouth. The whole class laughed at me again as usual.

"I'm not stupid for liking the shortest, shortest guy in school like you," I said. The laughter grew louder as a voice interrupted, "You talk like you're beautiful."

"Huh! You're the blackest person in the school. Slimy, fat, and black like this, no one in this life would want you. People like you shouldn't even be born, they should just die,” said the senior. I was silent before picking up my bag and walking out of the classroom. And as always, this matter was known to the whole school. The whole school laughed when they saw my face and said in unison that someone like me would never be taken as a boyfriend. Talking happily

I turned to writing articles and literature because I wanted to be a writer. When I have free time or holidays, I stay in the literature room and read books. I don't go out because I hardly have any friends. My life is almost no different from before. I had an argument with a classmate that caused my parents to be invited several times.

I asked to transfer to another school but was rejected. My grades dropped a lot. I told my parents that I wanted to be a writer but was rejected. My laptop was confiscated by my parents. Because they think I'm only playing games. My dreams were looked down on by those around me and my family. He said writing novels was a soap opera, even though he had never read any of my work before.

From the time I was twelve until I was about to graduate from middle school. I secretly cry almost every night before bed. My parents or those around me had no idea how re-traumatized I was. There wasn't even a comforting sound, only insults when I told him about my problems. He viewed it as a small matter. So I chose to be quiet and keep it to myself.

After graduating from high school, I went to a friend on the island to find work and didn't go home for three days. My parents called and they said I was with a guy. They called me to come home and argued with me asking if I really wanted a husband of that size. It was like the most hurtful and insulting word I had ever heard. I've always been a good kid.

I did everything to make them proud but it was never good enough. I was detained by my parents because they misunderstood.

After that I leave the house and work. But it didn't help me get better and various insults from my family and people around me kept popping into my head. Until work gets worse I was fired from my job and had to change jobs several times. I'm stressed like a mentally ill person. I cried myself to sleep every night and woke up crying in the middle of the night several times a day until my body couldn't take it anymore. Looks like I'm about to faint.

Everything seems completely destroyed. So I made the worst decision of my life. I'm thinking of killing myself.

Tonight was the first time I cut my wrist. If I die, I hope this will be the last letter I leave so that everyone can understand why I committed suicide.

Remember that people who die by suicide do not want to end their own life. But I just want that pain to end.

For people who have been or have been bullied Don't give up. Don't stop fighting.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE

If parents are meant to love their kids

Why don’t mine love me?

If you’re meat to love your siblings

Who do I hate mine?

If friends are meant to be there for you

Why do mine hate me?

If life is so easy

Why do I feel like ending mine?

Credit : namjoon

Temporary fun for a group of people It can create deep wounds for Damisa. And came back to attack her often until she was 20 years old. Damisa went to receive treatment for mental illness.

Depression, PSTD, Depression related trauma)  

Nowadays, she is back to living a normal life in society.