Another bullying suicide is in the news today. Every time I read a story on bullying it makes so angry I could spit nails. Parents argue back and forth, administrators close ranks and give the safest response possible because of the potential fallout – lawsuits, bad press, etc. But the truth of the matter is a child is dead because adults ALLOWED bad behavior to continue and escalate. Being popular or an athlete usually comes with special attention/privileges/favoritism by faculty – which is disgusting in my view. Allowing a popular student (s) to abuse someone else that’s shy, weak, unpopular, etc. is deplorable and could be compared to being an accessory. I’ve seen teachers who treat these kids like they’re peers/buddies, and give them special privileges because well, they’re the cool kids. Like they’re living some kind of second adolescence. It’s bizarre. The adults in these situations have an obligation to step in and correct the behavior, yet they don’t. No, they wait until some kid is dead and then rallies are held, candlelight vigils, grief counselors are paid for and statements of ignorance are offered to the press along with “heartfelt” condolences. Where was all this effort before the kid died?? Being proactive could save lives, but that would require being engaged and not allowing kids to bully each other.
Those of you that grew up with me (and stuck by me) know the story I’m about to tell, others may not and might be shocked at what I’m about to say as I don’t tell this story often and for a long time I didn’t tell anyone at all after I moved away from PA and everyone that knew about “the jump”. I was relentlessly bullied, for YEARS. Not just a little bit, but a lot. Physically, mentally, and daily. Older kids beating the crap out of me, throwing things at me, calling me vicious, cruel names, following me home, threatening me, spitting on/at me, and terrorizing me anyway they could. My mom had to get the police involved on more than one occasion but that usually only made it worse. The school didn’t do anything and they knew exactly what was going on. My parents went to the principle, assistant principal and the superintendent-they were told, it’s “kids being kids”. I went to my useless piece of space guidance counselor who told me I was blowing things out of proportion and I need to “toughen up” and that it was a “phase”. Black eyes, bruises, scratches, ripped clothes, oh yes, clearly it’s my imagination. School became a prison, a place of fear and torment. I was scared every day and slid into depression from my hopelessness over the situation. What was going to happen next? There seemed to be no escape and no one would help me. I felt there was nothing else I could do, no other way out. These abuses went on from 7th grade through 9th grade until I finally overdosed on my entire bottle of Phenobarbital and threw myself off my parents’ house in an attempt to finally end my suffering. I had OD’d on my phenobarb before but much to my dismay, I kept waking up. So that last time, I emptied my parents medicine cabinet of whatever I could find, along w/my phenobarb and then jumped off the house. Another suicidal failure, I lived. However, I was very broken this time – my ankle was completely shattered and had to be fused back together, my Achilles tendon was ripped in half, I had a major concussion, my fingers were broken on my right hand and they tell me I was so close to being paralyzed that only God knows why I’m not. I had to have 3 surgeries, 3 pins, 2 screws, 3 casts and 2 splints. I spent months in a wheel chair and on crutches and then years with a cane. I would never regain full range of motion in my ankle, running would take almost 10 yrs before I could do more than a few yards before falling or tripping. I would live with pain in my ankle every day for the rest of my life. But all that physical misery was nothing compared to what was going on inside me. I was still a scared, traumatized mess. And the school did nothing. Not a damn thing.
The best thing that came out of my jump, in the short term, was that people mostly left me alone after that. They were scared of me, they thought I was crazy, and maybe the crazy was contagious, so they stayed away from me. And I also had a cane – perhaps they were afraid I’d beat the living shit out of them, who knows, but they steered clear. Finally though, I had some peace from it because I no longer had to be around my tormentors, thanks to my mom.
My mother made the best decision for my future and put me in private school – the local Catholic school – and in the end, that decision saved my life. Lebanon Catholic knew what happened to me at the public school and made it their mission to prevent anything like that from happening at their school. I was given counseling, a peer group was set up for me to talk to, my teachers were kind, gave me attention or space when I needed it and helped me go from a shattered, shell of a person to someone healthier and happier by the time I graduated 3 years later. They didn’t allow bullying. It wasn’t tolerated. And this was back in 1989-1992. I felt safe there. I wasn't scared to go to school anymore. Funny how a private school 22 years ago could do the right thing, but schools today can’t seem to get it right. How many kids need to die before the adults take some responsibility and stop tolerating this bullshit?? How many Phoebe Princes, Tyler Clementis, Teddy Molinas have to die before people take a proactive approach?? This is happening in every city and state….the attitude that it can’t happen here needs to change. Adults need to get their heads out of the sand and stop denying that this occurs. If you’re an administrator or a parent of a bully, stop living in denial. Get your shit together and stop this cycle. Today I volunteer as a Suicide & Crisis Interventionist and it breaks my heart every time I read about someone that committed suicide. I remember how alone I felt, how trapped and isolated and hopeless. I just want to scream out - it will get better, there is help to be had! I’m not saying it was easy, it took me years to get better and feel normal and to understand that being happy was okay. There was no magic pill, no therapist that made me better, I had to find that on my own and eventually I did.
I want to say to all those that have been bullied, life after jr/sr high school gets so much better. It really does. If I could tell my 15 yr old self about my life today, I’d save myself so much pain. (And I’d probably tell her to take some martial arts classes too.) No one cares about high school except for those kids who felt popular/athletic/powerful etc. because that’s the best it’s ever going to be for many of them. Like Bruce Springsteen said, all they can talk about are the glory days. For the rest of us, the best is yet to come. College, travel, family life, friends, those things will mean more to you than those years spent dodging blows and cruelties from our bullies. You can move away, leave all of that behind and start a new life somewhere else. Reinvent yourself, become everything you always wanted to be. High school is such a short part of your life and it will not matter in long run. Grades yes, social status in high school? No.
My life is so much better today. I still live in pain every day and walk with a limp sometimes and I can’t run like before but I’m alive. It amazes that I survived the overdoses more than anything. That is truly miraculous. God saved me for some reason, maybe just so I could tell my story and save someone else, who knows, but I'm here today. And for that, I’m grateful because I have wonderful friends and family that love me for who I am and I have a house, a job, and life that I love. I laugh more now than I ever did and smile every day. I appreciate every day and tell my loved ones that I love them as much as possible. I want to live and can’t believe there was a time when I wished for death, welcomed it. My life is not perfect but it’s mine and I’m still standing. I’m still walking and every day above ground is a good day. I don’t often think about those people that caused me so much pain when I was young. You know why, because it doesn’t matter. They don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. I survived them but they have to live with themselves every day and that’s punishment enough. To all you bullies out there, I pity you and life will eventually pay you back. I hope life treats you as kindly as you have treated all those you have bullied.
"It gets better" is not just a celebrity movement to bring awareness to suicide, it’s the life I’m living every day as a survivor of suicide. I made it and so can you. Please don't give up.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story,
The Ginger Ninja
