It can be for life

On first grade, I developed an unexplainable love for books and literature, and, as we started having tests, my grades only got higher and higher. I was proud of myself, and so was my family. But, as the months passed, I was getting somewhat isolated, from everyone. I didn’t want that to happen, but it did.
On second grade, the name calling started. It wasn’t much, only things like ‘smarty pants’, ‘teacher’s pet’ and ‘perfect girl’, and it didn’t happened often, but the more time passed, the more isolated I got.
On third grade things escalated, but much changed.
On fourth grade, my best friend left my classroom, and things went to a whole new level: laughing at me, pulling my hair in the middle of class (we sat in rows and didn’t choose where to sit, so they could do it very easily), slamming my books, the things I most care about, to the ground and spreading rumors about me. In that point, i was already spending my breaks at the library, alone.
On fifth grade, it was the same thing, except I knew that I’d be free in no time.
I never told anyone, because I thought that, when I changed schools, things would get better. They did, for a while.
In the end of sixth grade, my “best friend” turned her back on me. I didn’t have many friends, only her and another girl, because I already had trust issues, so, when she started hanging out with the ‘popular girls’ I had no one to be with, because my other friend had other friends. My old “best friend” called me names and told her new friends my secrets. I don’t know what else she did, because I blocked almos 3 months of my life. On the last day of school, that same girl APOLOGIZED and said that she wanted to star over (for the record, she hasn’t looked at my face for 12 FREAKING MONTHS).
Basically, I got new friends (who are actually nice and know what I’ve been through, since they were bullied themselves) but the bullying didn’t stop. I’m still isolated (which is a form of bullying) and people still make fun of me. My parents don’t know, and I don’t plan on telling them. And now, at 13 years old, I have clinical depression, general anxiety, stress disorder and I suffer from panic attacks.