Bullied and hurt (English version)

.6.

Dear Diary,

Everyone is really driving me crazy.

"Be yourself," they tell me all the time.

"Be yourself, there are so many others already."

I think the psychiatrist (her name is Jessica) doesn't quite understand that.

I was myself: I was thin, too thin.

But that's how I wanted to be.

Of course, people told me to lose weight and everything, but that was just because they hated me.

The one who always said it was much fatter than I was.

They just said it to say something.

But that's not why I started eating less: I wanted to be thin because it would make me feel better.

So Jessica was supposed to "help" me, but she doesn't help.

All she said was what I said above: that I should just be myself and blah blah blah.

So what if I don't want to be myself?

I'm so happy for Miley Cyrus.

One Direction held the VEVO record with Best Song Ever (12.3 million views after 24 hours).

Her song and music video Wrecking Ball, broke their record and in just 13 hours!

So awesome!

But yes, Miley is also better than One Direction.

Yeah, now I'm going to sleep. Am really tired. Good night!

Love, Nola.

I close my eyes and then immediately open them again. How many times have I laid like this, unable to sleep, and kept thinking about all that is happening in my life. The bullying, making fun of, scolding and hitting. Every night I have nightmares and wake up screaming. Hopefully soon I will have a good night's sleep. I start yawning and then my eyes close by themselves.

I'm walking through town, it's about noon I think. Suddenly someone grabs me from behind. Startled, I turn around. I want to scream as I look straight into Misha's eyes, but not a word comes out of my mouth. Taylor and Raymond join me as well.

"So, look who we have there." Raymond puts a hand in front of my mouth so I can't scream loudly and they drag me into the alley. 

"We haven't seen you in a while." Grins Misha meanly and they come closer to me. My eyes get big with fear. Taylor kicks me in the gut, a stabbing pain remains, I bite my lip as tears continue to burn behind the corners of my eyes. But I already know by now if I start crying, they are going to hurt me even more...Why always me? Why? Why? Why? What's wrong with me? Why do they always gossip and bully me? Why? I don't want to be here anymore. Never again. No more in this world where everyone always looks at me funny when I walk by. I want to die...

I am awakened from my dark thoughts by Misha slapping my face. I run my hand over my cheek and feel blood....

"Stop it! Leave me alone!" I shout in panic, but they ignore it. They go on like this for a while while Raymond just stands there watching with his hands in his pockets. Grinning. I hit my head rock hard against the wall and scream in pain. It goes a little black before my eyes and everything becomes more blurry.

Sweating, I wake up and look around anxiously. My heart is pounding like crazy. Afraid they will come back...But then I see that I am just in the hospital and not with Misha, Taylor and Raymond. I sigh shakily and rub my hands over my face as it still sweats. Carefully, I take a sip of water from my bottle, but with shaky hands, it doesn't really work. I apparently let out a scream, because a nurse comes into the room worried. I put my bottle away. I say nothing and stare at the floor. Why should I tell them? Then they will only think I want to kill myself. I shake my head and the nurse leaves the room again. A tear escapes from the corner of my eye. Where a nightmare. The same one again. This one I've had for weeks and I just can't get it out of my head. In every nightmare I get, they kick my ass again. I start crying. It was such a horrible dream and I can't do anything to remove that nightmare from my mind. I bury my face in the pillow as I cry softly. For a moment I lie like that and then I feel my eyes slowly sink shut and this time I fall asleep peacefully.

When I wake up the next morning, I am cold. I pull my blanket over me. I think. I have already gone through every possible way to commit suicide. Hanging myself is out of the question; I wouldn't know where to get rope. Sisters and doctors are around so I can't use my pocket knife. They bring a glass of water and dry rye bread at set times. I usually just leave it. Yes that is one way! I just don't eat or drink anything anymore, then I'll dry out by myself. There is a knock on the door and I look at the door. Who is there for me? No one ever wants to visit me and now there is someone? My mother is standing in the doorway. She carefully approaches me. Are those tears in her eyes? Ah well, don't be silly. Or wait. Yes, those are tears but she's not crying. I know my mother cares about me, but that she would start crying...as long as she doesn't start asking what happened, because then I have to explain where those nightmares come from.

"Honey." She begins and sits down next to my bed. She takes my hand and looks at me with tearful eyes. Yes, seeing my mother like that does something to me. "Those nightmares, they're from the bullying aren't they?" I nod. Yes, I'm not going to lie. As long as I don't have to explain or say what they do to me every day. I don't want to talk about it, ever. "Has Jessica been coming over yet?" Again I nod. Send her away, it's time for the knife! I know what that means. I glance at the clock and indeed, it is time. I have to make an excuse so my mother will leave. Even if it's only half an hour.

"Uhm, I do crave something from the restaurant. Something hot, some fries or something." My mother nods and walks out of the room. Happy that she believes me. And if I eat it, I can still spit it out in the toilet myself. No worries. I grab my pocket knife and put it on my left arm, since my right arm is still full of scratches. I draw the knife across my arm. Yeah, this feels much better anyway, cutting loser! You're worth nothing when you're fat and ugly. Because of that stupid IV, you're getting fatter and fatter! Is that what you want? Do you want to be called a fat pig again? Or do you want them to beat you up again? No? Then cut the bitch! I do as she says and cut my left arm about four times, bleeding. It feels good to do this. At least all those hurtful words are out of my head, all I'm thinking about is my arm. My arm hurts, all right, but I'm not thinking about anything else and that's the point. Quickly I put my pocket knife back under my pillow and lie down. Not much later, I see my mother re-enter the room. I sit up straight so it looks like I've rested for a while and take the plate of fries. I sigh for a moment and look at it. Those really are a lot of calories! I look at my mother and reluctantly put a fry in my mouth. My mother must see that I am eating. Tonight it will go out again, but it doesn't matter. I want my mom to think I'm eating normally again, the sooner I can go home!