I'm in one of those moods but here it goes… read at your own risk

My names Brittney Kierra Nichole 

Brittney Kierra Nichole:

Stuff isn't going how I want it to anymore. I'm becoming sadder and more depressed. I just want out of this hole. I want things over with. I don't want to always have to wake up and have to worry about the way I look or act or anything. I'm getting sick of trying to live up to everybody else's standards. I'm tired of always being the cause of multiple fights. 

Names. I get called so many names. and it hurts you. They say sticks and stones may break your bones but words can never hurt you. That's a lie. a straight out ing lie. I've tried ignoring the names and words every ing day but I can't. You can't literally expect me to stand there anymore and just let is pass over my head as if its nothing when somebody calls me an attention seeking emo or a stupid who can't get her priorities straight. I snapped once and told some girl that she needed to shut and piss off because she didn't know me or my story. She proceeded to laugh at me and push me. I slipped down a flight of stairs that day. 

I was bullied since I moved to where I am now. and that was almost 8 years ago. The bullying still continues to this day. I was bullied over my ethnicity, the way I talked (because I was only 6-7 I had a spanish accent given I moved from a very mexican-populated region of colorado where everybody spoke spanish and had an accent), the way I looked… everything. Right down to the clothes I wore on my back. at first it started out with the normal "doodoo head" and hair pulling . Soon it escalated into being called a geek who doesn't know how to dress herself. Then came the names and physical abuse when I was barely 10 years old. 

A 10 year old should never contemplate their existence. Ever. 

She called me names. She gave me dirty looks. She judged me. She would say push me in the hallways and down stairs. She would act as though I wasn't any better than a pile of busted up bricks. She would makes racist jokes towards me and indirectly talk in front of the class about how I had no friends and nobody liked me. She is what caused me to cut, starve myself, slip into a deep, deep depression and hate myself for who I am to this day. I've never been more sick with myself then I am now. 

The first time I had ever physically harmed myself was when I was in the 4th grade. I had just come home from having all my friends turn on me over a stupid lie she had told them. I locked myself in my room so I could do my homework. I wasn't able to because I was too busy crying. All I had was a pencil in my hand. I began to name off things that were wrong with me. 

"You're ugly" I said, and ran the eraser once up my arm.

"You're not smart." I ran it back the opposite way on the same place. 

"You don't come from a rich family." I ran it up and down again until I could feel a burning sensation. I was too focused on the pain to focus on the bullying. I became addicted to that feeling; not worrying about them but myself for once.  I gave myself an eraser burn when I was 9 years old.

It wasn't until I was in the 6th that I cut. That was when I attempted to kill myself. 

She had managed to turn all but one of my friends against me and even some other people who weren't my friends to not like me at all. I had given up. I was alone, I told myself. I wouldn't ever be able to fit in again. That's when the metal kissed my arms and took it all away. I found myself fixing my arm up two hours later after finding out I was still here. I wore sweaters and hoodies everyday for almost three years to keep the scar hidden. When people asked it was the typical 'the cat did it' lie. Now you can barely see the cut's, which I am thankful for, but that doesn't mean I still don't get questioned. 

Last year in the 8th grade rumors had gone around about how I was gay or biual. Now, I don't anything wrong with these types of people whatsoever as I've found I'm possibly Panual or Aual. But with these rumors going around and me being shunned and everything I had feared to go to school anymore. And for the second time in my life, I had attempted to kill myself. I starved myself for two months and OD on whatever was in the cabinet. I was unhealthily skinny for a while and my immune system was at an all time low. I missed almost half the school year but still managed to make it to high school… barely.

Now, according to my school I am A: 

pot head (yes, I do smoke weed and cigarettes) 

• drunk
• emo
• anorexic
• bulimic 
• stupid
• depressed