Thank you to ALL of my friends (My Life Story)

It’s been really hard lately.. well.. always has been I guess.. but I feel so grateful for all my friends. I don’t mean this to be depressing or for pity but.. I want my friends to know how much they mean to me.

I grew up in this tiny town called Strasburg in Colorado where you could easily drive from one end to another in under 5 minutes. If there was no traffic. I lived in a little green house with a red door and went to the same school as my best friend, Taylor, who I grew up with. Almost all of my family lived in Colorado. Seems pretty happy right? Well.. I was a child that bullies loved to mess with because I wouldn’t understand what was happening and thought they were my friends. Also I had a teacher that would punish me for what others did even though she knew it was them. She wanted to make the other teachers think that she had the best behaving class in the whole school (when in fact she got a class full of kids who didn’t do anything she asked unless it meant a story or coloring). Well, I was the more quieter kid in the class that everyone blamed everything on, and it covered her for not punishing a bunch of kids. I was constantly getting “in trouble” and when a teacher walked in to check on her shed garb me and say “Oh she is just the best student ever! shes like an angel!”. Then the person walks out and she sends me to the “time out” corner. I eventually got sick and tired of it and only did the stuff I wanted to do. I wasn’t a dumb kid. I knew if I was going to get in trouble for nothing then I might as well do what I want. Little did she know that, even though it made me fail that grade year, I would be in the same class as Taylor.

Not that bad right? Resolved, and obviously not traumatizing. Well, behind the scenes I was not only being bullied in class but out side of it too. One bully was so bad that it put mine and Taylor’s friendship on the line. And I was too timid and gullible that I either didn’t notice it till MUCH later on or was to afraid to report it.

Still not too bad. Almost every kid has dealt with some sort of bullying in their life right?

Well.. when I was half way through second grade, my dad got a job offering in a Virginia, half way across the country. I was so excited. Dad would be making more money for us so we could live happier, I’d get to venture out into a place I have never heard of, and I’ll be able to make new friends. So we move to Virginia and lived in a condo that’s right in front of my new elementary school. I couldn’t wait to see my new teachers and friends! I went to school my first day, and as soon as I walked in I got a bad vibe. I found my classroom, went in, and sat down at my desk. The kids seemed to have a meaner sense of humor then what I was use to but I just thought it was normal for people in Virginia to act that way. So I waited. And waited. And after the teacher was almost done talking about a subject I had no clue about (Egypt) she finally introduced me to the class. five minutes later, she comes over to me and plops a HUGE pile of paper on my desk and says, “you need this all done by the time we take our test.” Now I know, you think I might be exaggerating on how much paper there was to be done, but I’m not. the pile was as thick as two of my fingers combined, I had absolutely NO knowledge about Egypt other than there were Egyptians, the Nile River, and pyramids, and I had a little under two weeks to finish all the papers. There was no way I could get that done by myself! I kept asking my teacher questions but she just ignored me until I made her so frustrated that she couldn’t stand it anymore. On top of that, none of my peers even cared to notice me, and if they did, they bullied me. I was alone and didn’t know what to do. No one listened, everyone was hurtful, and no one seemed to care if I was there or not. The sanitary conditions were terrible and they always had “tests” to see our “progress” in PE. You didn’t stand a chance if you were fat in the slightest. I had given up hope. I tried talking to all of my teachers but none of them even acknowledged my existence. I slowly started getting depressed and stopped trying to talk to people. Finally, one day I had art and sat there trying to make a pueblo out of paper and had no clue what I was doing. The art teacher came over and asked me why I was struggling so much. I told him I didn’t understand what a pueblo was or any of the stuff he was talking about was. He was shocked but thought about it it and realized that it shouldn’t come as a surprise to him. From every class after that he sat there and taught me about the Egyptians and all there creations until I knew all about the Egyptians by heart. He even taught me about all the artwork around his classroom and the stories behind them. Somehow through all of it, I managed to pass the year with an A. Sadly I had to say goodbye to my art teacher, but my parents finally realized that all the stories I told them about the school were true and the swore I would never go back again.

The story hasn’t end yet. Through all that, I had acquired sever depression. I shut myself away from everyone I knew. I rarely smiled and always cried. I thought that the world would be better off without me. I went suicidal a couple times but I was too afraid to kill myself, even if I was just right there and had to just do that one thing. And that it’d only hurt for a second or a couple minutes and then it’d be over. I’d cry myself to sleep and I’d cry in the shower because when I cried in front of people they would scold me, call me names, or judge me. I went to a therapist but nothing worked. the only family I had was my mom, dad, and little sis. My friends, I had none. I’d go to school and I’d cry everyday in a little corner. I’d hear my classmates call me names as I just sat in my little corner. I was always picked last for anything and everything. when we had to pick partners, I worked alone. Even at my daycare I cried. And yet again, I’d sit in a corner, alone, hearing people calling me names. I was fully convinced that no one would care if I died. I believed they wouldn’t even notice that I was if i died, and my parents would be able to live an easier life. One less mouth to feed. One less expense.

I was getting closer and closer to killing myself

One day, while I was sitting outside on a hill next to a pool fence at daycare, crying to myself as usual, a kid, John, came walking towards me. I ignored him, thinking he was just getting the ball next to me, but he sat down beside me instead. I was shocked, but I just lay my head in my arms around my legs. He looked at me and said, “Are you okay?” I lifted my head with so much shock that someone would actually ask me if I was okay. No one for the longest time has ever worried about me that had a choice to. I felt pain in my chest from the realization of it and started crying again. I told him no and he just sat there and listened to me. Not asking me anything, not scolding me, calling me names.. just listening.  Every day that I cried, he’d come to me and listened to me. He did it every time until I stopped crying. He’d help me with anything I needed. He helped me smile more, make friends, learn how to manage keeping a friend, not be as shy. He even taught me how to play football and kickball. When ever I did something good he’d freak out about it. Like the time I kicked the ball in kickball so hard and fast.. and heading straight to the place that hurts a lot.. he ended up falling backwards from the force, but somehow managed to still catch the ball. From then on I was one of the first people picked in kickball. i was so happy that for once someone actually WANTED to choose me for their team. And he never dropped it. It made me so happy..

John taught me something about people that I believe is one of the most important things I have ever learned. which is, a lot of people who isolate themselves with bullying or crying usually just want someone to just listen to them. That people act the way they act for a reason and it’s usually not hard to find out why in their actions. I made a friend this way. In my third grade class, I had the schools two biggest bullies in my class, River and Kenneth. Both seemed to just blow up at people at random times and did nothing but start fights. I didn’t believe that either one of them acted the way they did just to act like that. But out of both of them, Kenneth stood out to me the most. Because when I sat back and watched him as he yelled at the other classmates, I realized that everyone had the wrong idea. In fact, everyone else was in the wrong. He didn’t pick the fights, people just treated him like garbage and yelled at him, called him names.. they were bullying him! I started trying to talk to him, and at first he didn’t like me because he thought that I was just like everyone else. Soon he realized that I was nothing like them and knew he was innocent. Soon we became good friends and his fights with others decreased gradually until he rarely ever fought with anyone. We did a lot of things together and acted like fools at times, but we had a lot of fun.

My fifth grade year was difficult in other ways. For almost an entire year, I was having pains between my neck, my eyes would roll without me knowing, and my head and I couldn’t remember certain things well. I was in an all girls class that year, and we were having a dance party to have relaxing time during SOL week. we had a domino effect when one girl fell and I was at the end of the chain with a filing cabinet behind me. I came crashing down and hit my head on the handle of the filing cabinet. Everyone said I was swaying when  stood up and I started feeling the pains in my neck and my stomach started to feel upset. I went to the nurse and my mom picked me up and finally took me to patient first. Well, that didn’t do us much good because all they did was call for n ambulance because they aren’t aloud to do stuff about the brain and put a neck brace on upside down and backwards on me (big fail on their part). So they rushed me into the hospital and took a bunch of test and told me that I had a tumor in my brain and Hydro Syphilis (might be spelled wrong). I was either born or developed a tumor in the middle of my brain that had grown and pinched off a tube to one of my ventricles (what drains liquid from your brain) and caused my ventricle to swell up like a water balloon. This caused my brain to me pushed into my neck. They said I was lucky to have caught it so early because people usually loose one of their senses before they go in to check it out. They sent me into surgery immediately to poke a hole in the ventricle to drain the liquid. After I got out, I got bags full of cards from both of my fourth grade classes (moved in middle of fourth grade year) and I read every single card and saw every single drawing. There were so many people who tried drawing Pucca or Garu. I felt so thankful that people would spend that time just to write me a card. The day after my surgery, I was bored and asked the nurse for some paper and drawing utensil. I started drawing and she stared at me in disbelief. She looked at my dad and said that its amazing that I can draw that well after just getting out of surgery. One week after the surgery, I got out of the hospital with all the doctors in awe as to how fast I recovered.

In my six grade year I met some crazy, nerdy people who will change me completely. Rebecca, RJ, Ryan and Connor. They taught me how to be myself and stick up for myself. And most importantly, all the nerdy stuff. Rebecca is my crazy, girly, autistic BFF who usually does stuff without thinking much about it. RJ is the guy who couldn’t care less about people but yet still hangs out with us weird people. Ryan is the newyorker who loves everything nerdy and is the evil mastermind behind planing stuff against friends/people. And last but not least, Connor, the quietest guy you’ll ever meet who does not like being social and is addicted to anime. Then you have me. the “little sister” of the group (though I’m the oldest). I am apparently the innocence of the group according to them.

The next year, I had another surgery on my head. The hole that they poked had scarred up and the ventricle was growing again. We waited until the pains were more constant to take me into surgery. Sadly, this happened all to quickly. within a matter of seconds I went from just chilling on the couch to being rushed to the hospital after calling my doctors assistant only to find he was out of town. It hurt too bad to stay home another day, just pushing through the pain like he guy had suggested we do. So we left for the hospital and I went immediately into surgery. When I got out, I met the neurosurgeon. He looked at me with wide eyes and pulled my parents out of the room. It wasn’t till much later that I found out he told my parents that if I would have waited even five more minutes, I would of have lost my vision. Rather than telling me this, and freaking me out to death, (hint: if you are spuirmish then do not read rest of sentence) he told me that my ventricle was almost five times larger than what it should have been and that when they poked the hole in it it shot clear across the room (the room is pretty big by the way). So with all that going on, they also found out that they ran out of the painkillers that I needed. So for pretty much the rest of the day I was in pain and only aloud a cotton swab dipped in water to drink and nibbles dry crackers. the next day they gave me a list of thing I could do (games, movies, ect) and I tried a few but it wasn’t long till I started begging for the new sleeping medicine they gave me that was highly addictive. the rest of the time I just slept. When I woke up, I’d stay awake for thirty minutes and then ask for more medicine to go back to sleep. But, just like last time, I was out in a week.

After that a bunch of good stuff started happening. I met my best friend Justine and, my soon to be boyfriend, Trey. There was a lot of chaos, but it’s the everyday chaos of being teens. Especially with relationships.

So.. The real reason I wanted to write this, is so that you guys can realize that I am just a human with human struggles and human needs, and to know me a bit more.. but most of all its to thanks all of my friends. My friends are the ones who push me through hard times and get me where I need to go. They make me laugh and smile and help protect me when I’m down. They’re there for me when they don’t need to be. If it weren’t for my best friend, Taylor, I wouldn’t of been able to be so happy in Colorado as I was and would have gotten Depression much quicker. My art teacher helped me realize not only my love for art but that even though it seems that there is no one good on the world you are still provided one person if you can just ait long enough for them. It’s because of him that I got to graduate my second grade year, and if I didn’t graduate my second grade year I wouldn’t of had nearly the amount of friends I have now, nor the memories I’ve built with them. John helped me realize that there is a reason to live, even though it might not seem like it at times. Kenneth and Isabelle (my fourth grade best friend that I had promised to never forget and have yet forgotten) helped me find out that it’s ok to be crazy. Crazy is good. My fifth grade class made me realize that I have a better time with guys than I do girls. RJ taught me how to defend myself verbally. Ryan made me realize how fun it is to imagine scenarios for certain people you don’t like or want to mess with (Ryan’s kind of like a big brother to me). Beca taught me how to have patience for autistic kids. Connor was fun to mess with. Not gona lie. Justine showed me a love for books and being weird as ever. Trey taught me how to be myself and that it’s ok to be girly and show my emotions rather than a mask. My neurosurgeon doctors gave me sight and life. And you guys, reading this, are giving me hope on being able to be a writer/artist one day. thank you. ALL of you. I wish you all happy, stress-free lives.

Alexus