Dying To Be Normal


I’m still in the eighth grade, but I’ve been through a lot. I was born with autism and diagnosed in kindergarten. I was bullied in first grade for knowing how to read, but having the inability to read aloud thanks to a speech impediment. I moved in second grade and it got worse from there. Kids would call me “fat” and “freak” and exclude me from everything. One girl bit me on the arm, and when questioned by the teacher, she said “I didn’t know that she was right there!” In third grade, the same thing happened, but people spread rumors about me. Fourth grade was when I started self-harming. Fifth grade, I was called “weirdo” and “stupid”. Sixth grade, I made friends, but they backfired and started telling me to kill myself. The boys sexually harassed me. Seventh grade, I ran out of the room crying because a boy mocked my stutter in front of the entire English class, 30+ kids. I made new friends. Again, it backfired and they turned on me.  I went into therapy. Eighth grade, the kids still make fun of me, but I’ve gotten better at getting people to leave me alone. I have a few real friends now who accept me for the weirdo I am. It’s gotten better. A year after the attempt, I’ve gone to concerts (which I never thought I would ever do!), become an A-B student, and have settled into myself. It gets better. You just have to hold on to see it.