Bullied!

http://www.danoah.com/2010/10/memoirs-of-bullied-kid.html

Dan has touched my life.  I will never be able to write as he has.  I don't wish to compete.  Maybe with me writing it will heal even more "things" in my heart.

I was bullied.  (where is that box of Kleenex?)
I was the new kid in the family.  I remember being called names.  "snitch witch", "dog", "ugly mutt", "quit staring", those are just some of the welcoming committee's words to me.  I realize they were only 10 and 11 but why would you do that to a little girl? 

{I remember being in foster care. I remember the smell of urine in the bedroom I stayed in. It wasn't from me.  It was from my boy "cousin".  I remember being dirty from mud pies.  I remember bologna sandwiches and fruit pies almost daily. 
I remember being loved!  I felt loved!  I felt wanted!  My uncle would let me ride on his lap in his vehicle.}

This bullying (abuse) lasted for years!  10 years!  My heart aches as I recall the feelings I endured.  I would be pushed down on the way to kindergarten, I would cry so hard I would wake up off the ground and wonder where I was.  Of course I would be late for school then.

In fourth grade it got sexual.  Abuse.  I was only 9 years old, maybe 10.  It defined who I was to become.  I felt ashamed, alone, dirty, cheap, wasted, but only time I felt "loved" was with that kind of attention.  That was the only time they were "nice" to me.  All I ever wanted was for someone to be nice to me.  (I think I just said that just a few weeks ago.  whaaaaaaaaaa)

The abuse stopped.  YAY.  5th grade.  the 14 and 15 year old went to live with their dad.

Then bullying started at school.  What the heck!  Shelly was her name.  I was minding my own business on the swings.  She was kicking mud at me.  My mom was going to kill me.  I can still hear her..........Don't ruin those pants!  Do you think we are made of money?  (I went to school a few times crying because of the yelling in the morning and the principle called home.  that was the last time I let ANYONE know the truth)  I had hell to pay when I got home.

I got off the swing, doubled up  my fist and closed my eyes!  POW....contact!  I bloodied her nose.  She wailed and the teachers came over to her rescue.  I was dubbed the bully.  Good thing it was the last day of school.  My favorite teacher reprimanded me, without getting the whole story and broke my heart.  I didn't speak to him again (until I was an adult).

I remember going to my aunts house when I was in 7th grade and a Mexican girl was calling me names and picking fights with me trying to kick me I grabbed her leg and she went down.  I got in trouble for bullying her.

In 8th grade we moved to Wichita Kansas.  A lot of the black girls made me their target.  I remember running down the hall after chemistry class for a week or two.  To her defence, I did tell her to "clam it, I can't hear the teacher".  I guess I deserved that bully session.  I got to the point of who cares anyway!  I was tired of being the target.  I was going to stand up for myself.  That is when my mouth got me in trouble.

I never picked a target and bullied them.  What I did do is stand up for ME.  Shanon.  I knew that no one else was.  Over the years, it has been apparent that NO ONE will stand up for me.  My parents asked us at Christmas vacation if we would like to move back to Grand Island, I voted YES!

9th Grade I could see differences in teachers.  They weren't bully's so to speak, but you could see that they were sugar sweet to those who "butt kissed" them.  That is not right either.  If you ask my opinion.  My drama teacher in Walnut Jr High was the worst.   No matter what I did, I didn't fit in. 

I had boy friends who only wanted one thing.  I tried to be "good".  I also was exposed to one of the boys moving back to the home. 

One night I wrote a note to my dad.  I was going to try and explain why i was going to run away.  My step mom found that letter.   She proceeded to tell me I was delusional.  I was making up a story and that I wasn't pregnant.  If I told my dad I would be in big trouble.  I think she feared what would happen to her son. 

10th grade I was the new girl in two different schools.  In Trenton the girls hated me because I was "blonde and cute" so the boys told me.  I remember one night of homecoming.  The girls were going "to get me".  The spirit overwhelmed me.  My parents were not home.  I didn't know what to do.  I prayed that God would protect me from being taken out in the country and tarred and feathered.  I saw the mustang driving up the school yard.  Panick!  I prayed.  I got the strength to open that back door to the boys locker room.............My knight in shining armor.  Ken was just heading out the door.  He was my boyfriend.  A kind and gentle "boy".  He was so kind and gentle the kids called him gentle Ben.  He saved me.  HE told the girls to buzz off and then took me in his arms as I shook like a tree in a hurricane.

I moved to McCook 2 months later and I had to start all over again.  I felt like I was getting beat up against an ocean wall!  The cute girl phase only lasted 2 days.  These kids grew up with each other.  They didn't want anyone new in on their turf!  Most of all the girls didn't want me "stealing" their boys.  (oh my heck)

I was snubbed at work.  The worst part about it, my step mom worked there and was friends with them all.  I had no where to turn.  My home was not a safe haven.  My school was not a nice place.  I clung to a few teachers that found me interesting and helped me learn and grow.  They were nice to me.  Thank you Mr. Datus and Mrs. Datus.  Mr. Gordon saw potential in me when it came to athletics and talked me into the swim team.  There I found good friends.  I even recruited my friends so we would have a fun place to hang out.

My Junior year some girls were yelling obscenities at me and my boyfriend.  Calling me fat and ugly.  I yelled at them the same thing..........'If anyone is a fat, ugly **tch' its you!  All of you!'  I felt pretty good finally standing up to those girls who were so worried as to whose 501 jeans were smaller than who.  That is the only reason I know what size I wore, 29.  I was fat and ugly.  I admit that, but I was not a "**tch".  LOL!  Those three girls, I think still to this day are known as being that way.  They bullied me for a whole year. 

I got to school on Monday and almost the whole senior class was waiting to kick my butt.  My friends wouldn't even be around me because they were afraid they would be the target too.  I can't even count how many times I ran to work or home, outrunning the crowd of girls that were waiting for me.  My boyfriend was from a small town just outside of McCook.  If it wasn't for him I would have killed myself.  His family was really good to me too.

I tried to tell my step mom what was going on.  She was friends with these girls at work.  She basically said I deserved it.  Get over it!  Its really a miracle that I don't hate her.

I think it is the gospel of Jesus Christ that keeps my feet from being 6 feet under.  I tried to run away at the age of 12, 14, and at 16 I tried to smother myself. 

I did take the abuse out on myself.  I never felt worthy of any nice boy liking me.  I never felt worthy to have a calling.  I never felt like I could speak with the tongue of angels.  All that ever came out of my mouth was "lies", and "manipulation". 

I tried to cry loud!  I never wanted to hurt anyone, I just wanted all the hurt to go away and heard that Heaven was a great place to live! 

I feel like Dan.  I feel like I have had to put on a pretty face. 

What have I learned?  I will have the courage to stand for truth and righteousness.

One turning point in my life.  I was 27 years old.  WE lived in Satan's Lot in Kearney.  He wanted to evict us for a 2.00 late charge fee not paid.  I tried to talk to him, but him being a male chauvinist wanted to talk to Ron.  Ron didn't want to talk to him and never did talk to him.  We got an eviction notice. I begged Ron to go over and talk to Earl.  NOPE.  The girls in the back of the car were fighting and I lost it.  I just started wailing on Ron.  I felt like I was fighting against an Evil force and the ONE person who could change our situation was too chicken to do it.  Ron grabbed me by the shirt and called me a "Psycho **itch from hell!"

I calmly walked out of the car.  Locked all the doors, put the couch in front of the door and went to the medicine cabinet and took everything that was in there.  I have no clue what all I took.  I called my work and told Stacy I wouldn't be in to work EVER.  I laid in bed.  I could feel my breathing become shallow.  I could see Shai's little face in my thoughts (she wasn't very old).  I felt tears flow from my eyes.  All I remember next was Ron shaking me.  He took me to the bathroom and made my stick my finger down my throat to get the pills out. 

I heard sirens.  I sat in the bathroom sobbing.  I locked myself in the bathroom.  'Leave me alone, I don't want to be here anymore!'  I heard a familiar voice.  It was Scott. Kyla's brother.  He talked me into opening the door.  I hated that he had to see me like that.  I was a mess.  Mascara running down my face.  The only cute thing about a bawling Shanon is that her eyes turn green instead of just hazel.  Everything else is red and swollen, and not pretty.  Not in the least!

I was placed in the ambulance and taken to Good Samaritan.  I had two choices.  Take the charcoal cocktail or have my stomach pumped.  I chose the cocktail. 

I had a Mennonite angel nurse who saw that Ron and Bev were doing me no good with their "lovely" attitudes and words of "encouragement" so she shewed them both out of my room.  She did let my Bishop and former bishop enter.  I just kept saying, 'let me go.  I don't want to be here!  let me go!'  She held my hand, told me how beautiful I was. 

These men placed their hands on my head.  I know ONE thing I heard!  "Shanon, you and God made promises to each other.  When you have fulfilled those promises........HE WILL TAKE YOU HOME." 

There was no more darkness in that ER room.  There was light!  I looked up at that nurse and said.........'What do I do to get out of here?'  She hugged me TIGHT.

I got dressed and because I tried to end my life, the state took over and said I needed to spend time in a psycho ward. 

I have a purpose.  Until the purposes of my being here are fulfilled, I will  do what I'm asked to do. 

I will stand for truth and righteousness, even if it means I'm not being popular.  I'm forty two years old. I still get bullied.  I get bullied at church, by my neighbors, by my family even.  It is hard to be here.  80% of me doesn't want to be here anymore.  If I could I would wave a magic wand and disappear.  Only God has that "right".  I will wait for his timing! 

i don't always KNOW the purpose of me being here,  but obviously there is one. I'm still here. (dang).