This post is old, so what you see here may not reflect my current opinion and mindset, certain information may be outdated, and links may be broken.
Jen and I had an interesting conversation last night. We were talking about all these stuff from the past. Maybe this will explain why I despise God. I don’t know. I just need to blog about this, so bear with me. I hated my 6th grade year. All my school life I’ve been teased. People considered me retarded, stupid, fat, and all that shit just because I had speech problems and because my eyes were off. Okay so kids do got the tendencies to make fun of other people. I guess it’s normal for every one. I dealt with it far too long in my elementary school year. I remember telling my dad about this one time in 3rd grade and his advice was “Ignore them and they will stop bothering you”. News flash dad. That method never works. I tried and they nevertheless teased me anywas. I had to endure it since Kindergarten and I hated it.
Fourth and fifth grades was when I started to slack off with my schoolwork and didn’t learn anything. However sixth grade was the breaking point for me. Out of a close with 20 something people, only 2 people considered me as a fellow classmate and friend. I had a class that absolutely treated me like crap. Hell I think even my teacher didn’t care for me. They just treated me like I wasn’t even a human. Hell I did have few friends in other classes, Mi Son including, but … we didn’t get close till 7th grade. So I endured a torturous, lonely sixth grade year. My grades went from C’s to D’s and F’s. I dreaded going to school and it became a place of misery for me. I tried hard to fit in and I tried hard to please other people, but it didn’t work. My parents blamed me for getting poor grades, saying that I always talked with my “friends” in class and never paid attention. One problem mom and dad. I HAD no friends to talk to and socialize with. I was a fucking outcast in that class. What else is new with me back then?
I became a depressed pre-teen and the only friend I really considered a friend then was my fucking diary. Just reading my poorly written diary should tell you how much I hated sixth grade year. No one gave a damn about me. So I just wanted to die. Simple as that. I prayed to God to take away these misery from me. I promised him that I’d be a better person. I asked forgiveness for whatever sins I had done then. I prayed hard in my bed, crying every night to sleep. That went on for a while. However my prayers were never answered and I finally just decided to curse him to see if he’d fucking kill me by throwing a thunder bolt at me. I cursed him and lost my faith in him and despised him since then. I really did consider commiting suicide, but due to my fear of knives and fires I couldn’t. Not to mention I didn’t have any clue on where to get a fucking gun. Pitiful of me. I was a wimp. I wanted to commit suicide and I didn’t have the guts to do it.
Sad how my parents only cared about me getting good grades. They blamed me on not focusing and of socializing. And after that poor advice I was given in third grade, I didn’t bother to tell them how much pain I was going through then. I just kept it with myself and my diary. Why bother when they never really tried to see what was going in my life at that time? I was still a growing child then and I needed their love and their devotion. But I didn’t get them. My mom and I would always argue and she’d hit me like all Asian moms do. My dad just wanted me to get good grades and he never tried to find out why I didn’t want to do my homework. He just assumed I was lazy. Well maybe I was. But who can blame me? I didn’t have any motivation to do my work. I just wanted people to like me. I was lonely. And my teacher didn’t do crap. Sure I remember when I finally lost it in that class and cried for the first and last time in that class. The group I was in was talking shit about me and I guess I was a tattle-taler back then and I told my teacher. He came up to the group and started to berate them. And I just broke down. Then the class left to do some stuff and I stayed behind and cried. I left to go with them fifteen minutes later and I met them part ways and my teacher than said this: “So you decided not to go with us and just stay there and cry? Go on and do that thing and come back.” Well excuse me for wallowing in self-pity, but … enough is enough. Fuck you Mr. Nameless teacher. You knew I was in pain all throughout sixth grade and you did jack. You never helped me and all that crap. The kids gave me craps. My parents gave me craps with their lectures on getting good grades. My faith in God has fizzled out and I was depressed and sucidal, so don’t fucking berate me for wallowing in self-pity. At least I didn’t go crazy and start a school shooting then! Self-pity is better than that dammit.
That phrase “It takes a village to raise a child,” is so true. I was the child and the village that was supposed to raise me, shunned me to all hell. Obviously I pulled out of my depressive stage and is still alive… but I still haven’t figured out what did. Maybe getting into 7th grade did? That was when I started to actually have more friends? Or maybe the kids matured? I don’t know. All I know is that when I still see the same people from my sixth grade class at school, it pains me to even look at them and associate with them academically. They are the source of my pure misery. And it’s worse when they ask me for help or they want me to do something for them. Why should I give into their demands after all they’ve done to me? Why? I am not gonna let you people walk over me again. Funny how dad wants me to dress like them as well as my mom. Well why do I want to dress like the people that gave me pain? That makes no bloody sense really. And dad wonders why I don’t do more extra-curricular activities. Well same reasons. I see the people that caused pain in my life and it just fucking hurts to even know they got the same interests as me. I don’t want to share anything with them. I’ve become a bitter, apathetic, sadistic bitch because of all that. I ain’t gonna give in to any person I hate demands. They don’t deserve anything from me. Even those that betrayed me, lied to me, used me, and just treated me like crap.
Now I’m a senior. It’s been six years since all that shit. And it still hurts. Junior year is the second worst year of my life both socially and academically. The Eric thing, the Mi Son thing, the knee thing. All the pain from the past came rushing to me then. It was more than I can handle, yet I still survived. Sometimes I don’t think it’s a good thing. I’ve dealt with all this shit by myself. Jen on the other hand actually got to go see a therapist and everything. Lucky her. She had someone that actually cared. I didn’t. Going through all this pain by myself is shitty. It’s so hard. Suicidal thoughts still come to me and I want to know if it will ever go away. I doubt it would. It will always be with me and I hate it. I want to be a happy, care-free person. Not some bitter not even an adult teenager that went through some hell. Sure I might have gotten all the materialistic happiness and granted what I went through isn’t bad compared to some people, but as Jen said to me last night, “I look at the 3rd world nations and I feel bad how they got nothing, but it’s sad how some of them are happier than me.” So true. So what if I do have a good life? It doesn’t make me happy at all. The only thing that makes me happy right now is this computer, the few friends I got left, and sleep. Pitiful isn’t it? Sure I get a lot of shit, but they don’t make me happy. Nope they don’t. Life just sucks assl.
*sighs* Well sorry for rambling on. I needed to blog something like this at least once in my lifetime. XD And if you read this… then kudos.