Ehh well I wasn't really bullied at all in elementary school, it was mostly middle school and now, high school, that people started doing it to me.

First of all, my name is Phoenix. And yes, I am a guy. People make fun of my name and my appearance (I'm basically a very skinny and awkward vampire with brown hair XD), saying "dude, you're so GAY."

Guess what, I am gay, first of all, but how is that an insult? It isn't. At least, it shouldn't be, but they make it sound like it's the worst thing ever.

Anyways. Bullying.

Yeah, they called me names, "Vampire" "Nerd" etc etc. That was in sixth grade, but in seventh, it all kinda died down and they started talking to me behind my back instead, which I assumed was because I'd tried my hardest not to show any emotion at their name calling.

By the way, yes, I can see you whispering to your friend and pointing at me. You ain't some sneaky ninja.

Again, I showed no emotion, except I'd snap once in a while if people spoke to me.

Eventually it got so bad that if anyone tried talking to me, whether it be to ask for a pencil or to call me a name, I would panic. My mind would go into overdrive and I would basically just break down into an anxiety attack.

One time I ended up falling onto the floor because someone did that tap-your-shoulder-as-they-walk-by things.

Yeah. In eighth grade, my dad died from cancer. He was pretty much the only person who understood me, and absolutely nobody at school even knew why I would randomly start crying over the smallest things. It wasn't because my shoelaces were untied, it was because I remembered how my father taught me how to tie all these really cool knots. And now he was gone, forever.

My mom remarried, but she was never really the same. Her patience was wearing, and her new husband was an abusive alcoholic. He didn't care about me, and I think he brainwashed my mom or something because she started to not care about me either.

So it was just 14 year old me, all by myself, with nobody that cared about me. If they did care, it was in a negative way.

What did I do about it?

My school has a really harsh dress code. You can only wear a jacket if it's under 40°F, same with long pants (I don't even know why, okay). So obviously cutting myself was out of the question, everyone would see the scars in the locker room, anyway.

I didn't cut myself, but I did snap rubber bands onto my wrists, which did cause irritation, but it was painful and the redness was temporary.

Along with this, my mom's husband (I refuse to call him dad) wouldn't let me bring a lunch to school, and he wouldn't pay for school lunch. I decided that starving myself was probably better, anyway, and I did it voluntarily. If it would make me popular like the other guys, I was willing to try it.

So that was that. I had a glass of water for breakfast, nothing for lunch, and some water for dinner, maybe an apple if I was feeling rebellious.

For those of you who are surprised for some reason, YES, GUYS CAN TOO BE ANOREXIC.

As you can imagine, that isn't healthy at all, and I was hospitalized in less than a month after I passed out in class. They got me to a counselor to "talk about my problems".

Touché, doctors.

That didn't work out so well, I panicked as soon I wheelchaired my way into the scarily bright, rainbowy room.

They did eventually get me to talk to the counselor, and she and I actually became really good friends. In fact, she's still one of the only people who I can tell all of my deepest and darkest secrets without her judging me or going off to tell someone else.

This was probably way longer than I meant it to be, but whatever.

Just, if you're being bullied, hang in there, okay? Don't hurt yourself, don't starve yourself, but if you need a counselor, they're not bad at all. A counselor is someone who will listen to you and give you advice when no one else will.

But anyways. I'm a junior in high school now, and I guess you could say things are looking up. People don't really bully me that much anymore, (though I have a feeling it's because my attitude has gotten better), and my counselor helped my gather up the courage to report my mom and her husband to the police for child abuse. (I live with my cousin and her husband).

I gotta stop rambling lol

Don't give up, and be strong. Things do and will get better. (That was so cheesy I could smell it) BUT IT IS TRUE.

~Phoenix N.

@TheFireBird

I've said this a lot through my rant-story thing, but DO NOT, REPEAT DO NOT HURT YOURSELF. IT IS NOT WORTH IT AND ALL YOU WILL DO IS HURT YOURSELF MORE. TALK TO PEOPLE. DONT HOLD IT IN.