Proving Them Wrong | Teen Ink

Proving Them Wrong

November 5, 2013
By caleb evans BRONZE, Marietta, Georgia
caleb evans BRONZE, Marietta, Georgia
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

“You can’t believe them; you can’t let yourself do this .they have to be wrong”
Growing up I never really had that many friends. From 5th to 8th grade I basically only had my best friend to go to and we really didn’t even talk that much and even after 8th grade I didn’t even really have any friends. I know where it all started though I still remember it to this day….

It was just a normal day in third grade, learning basic mathematics and compound words and such. There was this one girl that I had a third grade crush on, you know like the type of crush were you want to hold hands but you’re afraid of cooties and there was no way that you were ever going to kiss because that meant you had to get married, and she was just the cutest girl in the whole 5th grade so I just had to have her. So I sat beside her every day and I talked to her all the time and it seemed like she had a crush on me to till that day. while we were learning our multiplication tables I heard an “ew” come from her mouth so being the curious little boy I am I look around to see what it was ,when I can’t find what she said “ew” about I didn’t I asked her what she said “ew” about . She yelled as loud as she could “YOU! YOU’RE PICKING YOUR NOSE YOU GROSS-O” ,everybody turned around after she said that and they all started laughing at me and calling me gross too. After that I was exiled, put away, out of everyone’s groups. From that point on no one wanted to be my friend every one hated me. They told me I was stupid even though I was in advanced classes; they called me a goof and a spaz for not being able to catch a ball very well, they said I was gay even though at that point I had no idea what it was at that point .

It was hell having to go through it day to day I dread waking up and going to school when I went to sleep, when I got to school I just wanted to go home, and when I was home my parents yelled at me all the time I hated my life .I wanted the emotional pain that I was feeling to stop. So I searched for a way to stop and I looked for anything, and I mean anything to make it stop … or to at least distract me from the pain. I tried getting a friend that would listen to me but at that point I was so socially awkward it was hard for me to make friends so that didn’t work, I tried like a normal teenager to listen to music and hope that it made me feel better but it never did, I tried eating my emotions but I never really was a big eater anyways. Then finally I found something to distract me from the emotional pain I was feeling … I started cutting the pain. The pain I felt from the blade running across my skin was controllable and the physical pain that I felt didn’t hurt as much as the emotional pain I felt. I knew I should have gotten help but I didn’t …
“You can’t believe them; you can’t let yourself do this.” I told myself this all the time, but overtime this mantra of sorts didn’t really help me or make me feel better. I just fell down, fell in to the lies that I was told and made them a false truth .a false truth that hurt and maimed my heart my mind and even my body. False truths that I was ugly - that I was stupid -that it was a miracle I’ve made it this far in life- that I was a klutz a goof a mess up an idiot - that no one would ever love me- that this pain that I feel wasn’t real, that I should just get over it - that I wasn’t good enough-that maybe I deserve what I’m going through for being me .once these false truths got in my head they just wouldn’t get out .I tried to get them out , I tried to find the truth of what I actually am but I couldn’t I had no confidence in who I was, because I was never told what I am .
That was until I finally made a good friend, she helped me out of the rut I was in she showed me that I am amazing and that I am not ugly or stupid that I wasn’t a klutz that I am loved that and that I was good enough .and after I built a little self-confidence I carried myself a little better and I was told by a lot more people who I really was rather that the image that I created of myself. I finally knew who I was.
I finally proved them wrong.



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.