Unintended - found on another site by anon.

Cut by the slightest slight
Sliced by the sharpest knife
Pierced with verbal blades
Unintended
and now my heart's in pieces
How dare you break me
Daily
Unintended

My Story - I need to get this off my chest. I need to tell someone.

Looking back I now realise how much the bullies hurt me, undermined my confidence - made me think I was worthless. It’s only looking back that I realise the pain they caused and how much they changed me from a confident child to a scared depressed adult in a matter of years. In the end they didn’t need to viciously humiliate me, embarrass me, make me feel worthless, I hated myself so much I didn’t require anyone else to tell me I was pointless anymore. That’s not to say I forgot their derision, even now almost 5 years after the last insult was thrown at me I still have flashbacks, I still get incredibly embarrassed about things that no one else even thinks about anymore. Maybe that’s why it hurts all the more, they’ve moved on whereas I am still stuck trying to find myself.
It was painful to enter that classroom day after day, to walk down the corridors and hear the insults ringing in my ears. But it was even more painful to go through it alone. To have no one to talk to, to have to hide it from my friends, my family, my parents - because I thought it was my fault. I actually believed their lies in the end, and I was so scared that one of my friends would hear their taunts and realise the truth and leave me too. I did everything I could to stop the humiliation, I changed my hair, wore different clothes everything, it didn’t matter, it didn’t stop them. In fact it only encouraged them.
It didn’t matter when I told anyway, no one ever understood the effect it was having on my life. They assumed that it was childish behaviour that would eventually stop. In the end I think I stopped trying to explain the pain it was causing me, and eventually I stopped displaying any of my emotions whatsoever. I learnt that it hurt more to be misunderstood by the people I loved than the bullies’ taunts.
I remember one particular incident; I was being laughed at by the group of girls in my class. I remember the total humiliation, not only because of the comments but also by the fact that everyone in the class could hear what they were saying. I was so scared that their comments would turn the rest of the class against me. However the most pain came from the realisation that no one would ever help me. My form teacher was sat there, listening and choosing to ignore it all. Its funny actually, I think I hate her more than I do the bullies. She could have changed everything there and then with a simple word or two but she choose not to. Even now that makes me angry. It made me lose any confidence I had left - perhaps I wasn’t worth saving after all.
That memory is very stark in my mind; I think that was the start of the long slide down into depression. Even after the bullies left me alone, I still went through years of abuse - from me. I went inside myself, I put up a barrier to protect myself from everyone else not realising I was shutting the worst enemy inside. I thought that everyone was against me, that I had to attack first in order to protect myself. I now know that during that time I hurt others a lot more than the bullies ever did me, but at the time I didn’t care. I could see they were upset but I was so emotionally shut down that I simply didn’t care. Ironically it was I that made my family dislike me in the end not the bullies. Not that I could see that at the time, all I heard were the words “I love you Abby but I don’t like you anymore”. That was painful, probably the most painful experience I have ever been through - to this day I can remember every detail of that conversation. I remember it felt like I was being stabbed a thousand times, straight through the protection that I’d built around myself. I think it was that day that started the true depression. I stopped being angry and started feeling guilty, ashamed, more of a difficulty than anything else - certainly not someone to worth bothering about.
From that day onwards I felt that I had to make up for all the pain I’d caused but that seemed like an impossible task. I accepted all the blame that was put upon me until I was quite often so overwhelmed by it all. I remember often avoiding mirrors not wanting to look at myself - the person that was ugly, worthless, was so evil that they had hurt their own parents so deeply. People would say to me, "you’re really pretty Abby all you’ve got to do is make the most of yourself". I didn’t believe them, how could someone as geeky, socially inept, ugly as me ever be anything other than a failure? Eventually I hated having all of these thoughts too, not because I didn’t believe them anymore but becauseI felt guilty. How could I be this person when I had such a loving family and so many opportunities in front of me? Surely it was my fault I felt this way - which led to hating myself even more. It was a vicious circle that I could never get out of.
I still kept all these thoughts inside me; I didn’t want to cause more problems for my family than I already had. However this ironically was the source of more tension and heartbreak anyway. I remember my mum breaking into tears frequently and asking me desperately to let her in. I tried, I really did, but she didn’t understand, how could she, I didn’t even understand why I hated myself so much, why I became so angry all the time, why I felt so lonely even when I was surrounded by my family and friends. In the end, as before, I stopped trying, what was the point if she didn’t understand anyway? Often I got scared when she wanted to talk with me because I knew that I would not be able to open up and I would end up hurting her so much. It made me feel guilty to see her cry; I didn’t want to be the person that made my mother cry! It was hopeless, I couldn’t explain myself and she couldn’t understand why.
I took to withdrawing myself physically as well as emotionally so that I wouldn’t have to cope with all the feelings that being around other people caused. I would watch lots of TV in order to shut everything out, so I could forget, so I could pretend for an hour or two that I wasn’t me. I was scared that just talking to people would hurt them - I mean that’s all I seemed to do. I couldn’t risk that, hurting myself was better than hurting everyone else around me.
Therefore I had no one to talk to. It wasn’t their fault I wouldn’t let myself open up, what could they do? But it hurt not being able to talk. I felt so lonely; I was lonely. I wouldn’t let anyone understand yet everyday I hoped and prayed that they would finally understand. I wanted them to see that behind the fake smiles and laughter I was crying. No one ever saw.
I carried all the taunts from years earlier deep within. I never spoke about them again.
My friend and family know I am sensitive about it, but I don’t think they will ever know to what extent I was affected by those words, how much it has shaped my life and me. How it has taken me deep inside myself, and to hell and back. Well, at least now someone knows.

Thanks for reading
Abby