When forced to think about it, I've realized I have been bullied more than I would like to say I have. Mostly verbally, to me, around me, or behind my back. Although I can remember maybe some internet experiences, but those were posted anonymously. One thing I know, is bullying definitely hurts.

I remember back as early as elementary school my weight was a problem for me. I was always over weight and would get called things like "pudgy", "chubby", "a little big", I even remember in gym class when someone told me I should "wear big shirts more, that way you can't see your fat jiggle" all though I don't think that was meant to be an insult, the fact that I remember it 8, almost 9 years later, definitely means it affected me. But that wasn't my only problem, I also had a speech impediment that made it hard to most things. Such as "R" sounds, "SH", "TH",
"W", and even many other sounds I would struggle with. It was definitely difficult to communicate when people didn't know what you were saying, I always remember people telling me how I talk "weird", it made it even harder that besides my speech impediment, and my weight, I also had 2 teeth in the front of my mouth rotted black.

I have always felt that I was a tough girl, having 3 older brothers, and an older sister, I felt like one of the guys where people knew not to mess with me, but I didn't realize then that acting tough was just a shell, and underneath felt as if it was wearing away. And it continued.

Middle school was when rumors started, I'll never forget when these girls told people that I was an alcoholic, and a drug addict. It was a rough year with friends, I had a core group of 4 friends, that soon turned into constant drama. This one girl just always managed to get me in trouble and to get me involved in things I had nothing to do with. I remember the day perfectly, I was sitting at my laptop just as the phone rings, my mom finds out my brother has just been arrested, at the same time 2 older girls, in my brothers grade, (5 years older), start messaging me about how I was "s*** talking" one of their sisters, and how I'm fake, and just tons of curse words being screamed at me through the computer. I was terrified, what was a 7th grader supposed to do when two seniors are telling her off? That was only the beginning. This friend continued starting problems, abrupt lies she would tell. She would make up stories to tell her boyfriend about how I was saying things about her, just to get her boyfriend to start yelling at me.. This was a cycle that wouldn't stop. Even when I stopped talking to this girl I would still get messages about things I apparently said and how I constantly target katie. Meanwhile, she was targeting me all along. She started spreading rumors about me, making things up about my boyfriend, and just stirring up as many fights as she could. Even when she stopped going to school in Somers, I would get messaged by her new boyfriend about how "it's obvious my tweets and statuses are about Katie". They weren't, and now I had to deal with this boyfriend threatening me and calling me all these names as if I did anything wrong.

I couldn't wait to be in High School, I was so excited that I would get to be in school with my boyfriend, my older sister, and all of my friends in my sister's grade. I fit in comfortably because of all the people I knew, and I wasn't nervous to be in high school. Freshmen year was a rough one, I sat at a lunch table with obnoxious kids who would constantly torment me. There was this one boy at the table I always tried to keep my distance from, something wasn't right about him, and I didn't feel comfortable near him. One day another boy at the table whispers to me, "Chelsie, Ian wrote this story about you in his notebook. It was about killing you, and raping your dead body" my eyes were already filled with water as I asked him what else it said, he told me that it's too graphic for him to even tell me. So I left the cafeteria and went to the person in the school I was most comfortable with, Mrs. Zappolo. I told her everything I could, who it was, what it said, who read it, and whatever else she asked me about. She wasn't taking this lightly, she then went straight to Mr. Campbells office and told the secretary to call down the boy and to search his backpack. That they needed to find the notebook and get it in their hands that day. Well, no one ever called him. No one ever found the notebook. This was a kid who also drew very graphic, vulgar photos in his sketchbook. Of people who were in the school and of people I knew, I told Mr. Campbell about this but he told me that "Perhaps it was a halloween joke", and that "It's a freedom of art, and speech" as if this was completely acceptable. I sat in Mr. Campbells office with my mom, as I was crying hysterically, and starting to raise my voice just because I just couldn't believe that this school was completely overlooking this. as if there is no problem whatsoever. My mom was absolutely fed up, she couldn't believe it either and the both of us were disgusted. I started dreading school, crying often, and felt incredibly uncomfortable in the cafeteria when the boy was still sitting at my table. They started telling him to sit in the other cafeteria or in the office but he often wouldn't. I would tell my mom that he's there and she would have to call the school. Nothing ever got done with this, and I was just forced to move on and get over it. But it still bothers me to think about it. It bothered me even more when the following year I had the same kid in my psychology class.

Well, that still isn't the end of my freshmen year. I got called many things, a "drug addict", "slut", "whore", "fat", "emo", "goth", and of course "ugly." I mostly tried to not let it bother me, knowing that I know what was true and what wasn't, and that people had nothing better to do but pick people apart, but inside it felt as if I was beaten down. I sat at a lunch table with all boys, mostly all very obnoxious boys. Lunch was a disaster. I was tormented every day. Always being about my weight. I got called fat, a lot. Until the point where I wouldn't eat at all. Never in that cafeteria, sometimes never in the day. I left that cafeteria crying just about every single day, no one ever stuck up for me. Not even my own boyfriend. I was the butt of every joke and everyone at the table would just laugh at me. I remember the days where they were throwing things at me, and the days I would try to stand up for myself and they would laugh even more, and the day where I got so fed up I threw my chocolate milk at one kid. The milk splattered, onto my boyfriend, who abruptly shot up, and punched me. I tried to act as if it wasn't a big deal, one boy tweeted about the incident which notified everyone who missed it of what happened, and then people made a joke of it. Whenever someone was around me and my boyfriend I would hear things like "yo hit her again" , or to "keep me in line", and thats just what he would do. He would laugh and give them just what they wanted by punching me again. People were amused by the fact that my boyfriend hit me, no one even thought to tell me it was something I shouldn't be dealing it. but Ms. Franchino certainly knew it was. She came over to the table and started lecturing me about how that isn't how I should be treated and a boy should never hit me and it's completely not tolerable. That I shouldn't be with someone who treated me like that. I just wish I listened.

All forms of bullying hurt. Physical, verbal, cyber, and even teasing. My freshman experience made me realize how severe teasing could be. There's a difference between a joke, and verbal abuse, and that's one thing people don't understand. Verbal abuse was also a problem. Being called "stupid", "retarded", and "fat" were all just things I would expect, until eventually I just expected them and didn't even flinch when I heard them. I definitely man handled, punched around, slapped around, I can remember tons of different occasions. Just being treated as if I wasn't a person, more like I was a dog, someone to follow commands and to not talk back. I let myself become "his b****" I stopped sticking up for myself just cause I no longer thought that I was someone who deserved respect, I was degraded. I was treated with no respect, and I stopped respecting myself. It was as if I didn't realize I was being hurt until it was too late. A habit developed where he would treat me as if I was nothing. And I was completely blind to it.

I felt like I was living in an endless cycle of just crying all the time, always being depressed or anxious, having people judge me for all the wrong reasons, and all together, I just felt like I was someone who was looked down on. Rumors were constantly spreading and I just always felt like currents were going against me. So many people just watched me get torn apart and just watched me taking the beatings over and over. Suicidal thoughts would overwhelm me and I was stuck battling myself in the end. This in itself bothered me. I knew that if I went for help what would end up happening is ME being in a mental hospital, because I was harming myself. But my thoughts were egged on by these people! Maybe they should be the ones getting professional help.

I wish I could say that bullying doesn't happen anymore, but that would just be a lie. Different forms of bullying exists, and most of us don't even realize what bullying is anymore. It is almost as if we forgot it existed and we just don't even consider how other people are affected by the things we say. I will always stand up for bullying. If I see it, I'll say something. Whether it is to the bully, or the target I'm not going to let someone just handle the abuse they don't deserve. No one deserves it, and no one should have to feel alone or neglected, like I did.