Topic : 10/28 Cyber Bullying

Children are not the only ones who bully.  What about the teacher/coach/principal who bully the same kids?  Do the other kids pick up on that and continue the bullying (adding to an already tough situation)?

Here is my story. Other than my husband, I have never told anyone this story . I feel very good getting this off my chest. I hope that this story can help someone who is being bullied now.

I was born to a teenage mother. She never wanted me. She always told me that getting pregnant was the worst thing that ever happened to her. I ruined her life. I was born with many physical problems. I went through surgery after surgery to correct my various problems. My face was deformed and I was a very ugly child. She told me I was the walking poster child for why abortion should be legal. (Abortion was not legal where I live when I was born.)

She resented all my medical expenses. She told me how unfair it was that she got stuck with me. She said little girls should be cute and adorable. Instead she got an ugly mess.

My mother also had no compassion for me. I would often be in pain and miserable. She would tell me to shut up and be quiet. She would freak out everytime I needed anything. Mostly I stayed in bed alone. One time some of my stitches came out and I began to bleed. I was so scared to admit that I got blood on my sheets that after she went to bed I scrubbed the sheets in the bathtub. I put them back on my bed soaking wet hoping she would never find out. This time I was lucky. She didn't find out. When I think back on it now, a bleeding 8 year old should be able to go to her mother for help. Instead I stopped the bleeding myself and never told her what happened.

My mother also had mental problems. I can remember twice her being admitted to a mental hospital. She also attempted suicide on several occassions. She blamed all her problems on me. She said she would be fine if she didn't have me. She told my whole family that I was a difficult and horrible child.

Once she began being treated for whatever mental illness she had, everything changed for the worst. Suddenly my whole family was on her side. I got told over and over to be good for mom, she's not well. I tried to be good. I tried to do everything she wanted and yet she would yell and scream in my face, hit me, shake me, push me, squeeze me and even once yanked on my hair so hard she got a handful. When her rage was over, she would say Why do you insist on driving me crazy? When I would tell my family that mom was mean to me they would tell me that I just needed to be good. It was my fault. Mom was ill.

I remember one incident when she got angry with me. I don't remember what my crime was. I could see the rage in her eyes and I ran. I locked myself in the bathroom hoping she would go away. At first she tried unlocking the door but I held it tight. Then she pounded and hit the door until she put a hole through it. Once she gained access to the bathroom she dragged me up the stairs to her bedroom. She got a belt out of her closet and told me to lie face down on her bed. I begged her no but that only made her more angry. She forced me onto the bed, pulled my dress up over my waist, pulled my panties down and told me to stay there. I was terrified of what was going to happen next. I was even more scared to move. I just laid there. She swung the belt and hit my behind. I don't know how many blows I got. She just kept hitting me. When she was done she ordered me to my room.

I was in a lot of pain. I could feel the welts. When she went downstairs, I slipped into the bathroom to see what the welts look like. I stood on the edge of the bathtub and looked in the mirror. I could see my entire backside was purple with swelled up lumps. The funny thing is – I was happy about it! The nature of my fathers job meant that he was away more than he was home. He was coming home tonight. I was so excited. I could show him the wounds and then maybe he would believe me. (Her bad behavior never happened when he was home.)

When my dad came home, I came running out of my room. I wanted to tell him what happened. This time I had proof. As I came down the stairs, my mother rounded the corner and ordered me back to my room. I want to talk to Dad. No – go to your room. My father told me not to be difficult for my mother and to just do as she asked. I climbed back up the stairs in defeat. Later, he came into my room. He sat down next to me and asked why I was so bad for mommy. I told him I wasn't bad. I was trying to be good. He told me that my mother wouldn't get so mad at me if I didn't misbehave. I told him she was mean. I wanted to show him what she had done. He wasn't interested. He told me to behave better. As for tonight, I could sit in my room and think about what I had done. He told me I could have dinner, if I appologized. I told him I would rather go hungry. He told me I had a bad attitude.

My torment didn't end at home. Kids can be cruel when you are different. In public school, the kids would run past and push me. I was easy to knock over. I got the nickname “Scary Carrie”. How charming. No one would be my friend. Who would want to be friends with a freak.

When I hit middle school, I thought maybe I could make some friends.I knew the group of kids that I wanted to befriend. They called themselves “The Gang”. I so wanted to be a part of the gang. When I say gang, that was just the name. Nothing to do with what real gangs are. I thought that I could make these kids be my friends.

At recess, I would want to join in the games. The kids often played Red Rover in the field behind the portable classrooms. No one wanted me on their team. I asked day after day to play. They would laugh at me and chant “Scary Carrie – Scary Carrie”.

I finally figured out that they would never let me play so I would have to find something else to do. I couldn't watch them play. When I sat on the grass and watched, the kids would say things to me like “What are you looking at freak?”.

 I had to find somewhere to hide. I hated being called names constantly. There were four steps up to the platform outside of the portable classroom. Around the platform was nailed some lattice. The nails had come up on one side and I was able to slip in behind and sit under the stairs. I could look out but nobody could see me. I would spend all my lunches tucked under the stairs. Out of sight, Out of mind.

I tried so hard to make friends. I guess when you are different, kids feel they can treat you any way they want to. Everyone was so concerned with their own reputation. No one wanted to be friends with a freak.

Then one day, a miracle happened. Rachel, one of the girls in the Gang said that I could come over to her house after school. I was the happiest girl in the world. I was so excited, I could barely get through the school day. The clock seemed to move backwards. Time moved so slowly that day. Finally class was over.

I was so proud when we started walking to Rachel`s house. I was with Rachel and two other girls. The walk to her house was short. When we arrived, Rachel suddenly exclaimed “Oh no! I forgot I have to deliver papers today.” Then she asked if I would help. I agreed. Anything to be included. She showed me how to put the flyers in and then showed me her delivery list with all the addresses of her customers.

When we were finished loading the paper cart, she asked if I would do the deliveries. I asked if someone could walk with me. The girls all said that they needed to get started on their homework but if I delivered the papers, I could come back afterwards and we could hang out. I did as they asked. I did the whole paper route.

When I returned to Rachel`s house, I walked up onto the porch and put the paper cart away. Then I rang the doorbell. Now was the time I was dreaming about. I was going to hang out with a friend. I was not going to be alone today. I waited a few moments after I rung the bell. No answer. I knew they were there. I could hear them inside. I rang the doorbell again. And again. And again. Still no answer. Finally I had to leave. I walked home all alone trying to hold in the tears. I felt so sad. I felt so alone.

I knew there would be no sympathy at home. My mother couldn`t stand me. With all my medical problems, she had hated me since birth. I was ugly and deformed and she couldn`t stand the thought that she had such a disgusting daughter. She couldn`t bear to look at me and never tried to hide her feelings. When I was home, I was confined to my bedroom. Often I would be in a lot of pain. She couldn`t stand listening to me whine and cry so I was ordered out of sight.

When I arrived home, I took off my shoes and put them away. As I was hanging up my coat, my tears caught up with me. I couldn`t hold them in anymore. I grabbed my backpack and ran up the stairs to my room. I laid down on the bed and began sobbing.

I guess my mother heard me crying because suddenly my bedroom door swung open. She was there standing in the doorway and screeched “What hell are you whining about now?” Nothing, I said. It doesn`t matter. I couldn`t tell her what had happened. I was too embarrassed and I knew she would just rub salt in my wounds. “Well if it is nothing, shut the f*** up. I can`t stand listening to you.”

The next day, I dragged myself to school. I was certain the girls were going to laugh at me. I knew today would be a day of torment. At our school, the kindergarten students had a seperate entrance around the side of the building. I hid out there until the bell. I couldn`t face these kids. I knew they would be laughing at me but at least in class it would be contained. 

A funny thing happened though. No one laughed at me and no one seemed to know about the incident. If the boys had found out, their teasing would have been relentless. No one seemed to know.

 Later that day, I went to Rachel and asked her why she had not answered the door the night before. Rachel was the only person who had ever shown me any kindness. I though maybe if she was away from the others she would still be my friend. She told me that she never heard the doorbell. The music inside must have been too loud. She said she would have answered the door if she had heard it. She said she couldn`t hang out tonight but maybe I could come over tomorrow.

 Once again I was estatic! I was going to Rachel`s tomorrow. I had something to look forward to. Everything was OK. They didn`t mean to exclude me. They just didn`t hear the bell. Maybe these girls were going to be my friends.

 The next day I could barely contain my excitement. After school I met up with the girls once again. We walked to Rachels house. It was paper delivery day again. She told me that she had to deliver papers on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. So here we were, Wednesday paper day.

 We carried the stacks of papers and flyers up onto the porch. Rachel asked me if I could put the flyers in the papers for her and do the deliveries. She said she was not feeling well and this would be a great favor for a friend. I agreed. I just wanted to belong and if delivering a few papers would make it happen, I would deliver those papers.

 As I was leaving, I told the girls to keep the music down so they could hear me when I come back. They agreed and went inside. I delivered all the papers as quickly as I could. I had to be home by 5:30 so I wanted to get the job done quickly so I could have as much time with the girls as possible.

I arrived back at Rachels house with my empty paper cart. I rang the doorbell. No answer. I rang the bell a few more times. Nothing. I decided that maybe they didnt hear the bell and I should knock on the basement window. I walked around into the backyard an looked through the basement window. I could see them on the couch wathcing MTV. I knocked on the window and one of the girls turned around and said “Oh My God! Shes looking in the window!” The three girls then slid off the couch onto the floor where I could no longer see them. I could hear them laughing. They had no intention of letting me in.

 I went home defeated once again. Why would these girls be so cruel to me. I had done everything I could do to secure a friendship with them. I was nice to them and did everything they asked. I knew then that Rachel was not going to be my friend. Even though she had been nicer to me than anyone else at that school, I knew I couldn't stand the humiliation anymore. It was over for me.

The next day, I hid out by the Kindergarteners again. When the bell rang I went to my classroom and lined up to get in. I didnt speak to or even look at anyone. I stood facing the wall. I knew that my best chance of getting through the day was to keep my head down.

I felt that everyone would be laughing at me. Not that that was unusual. I was laughed at every day. Whether it was class or out in the school yard. Sometimes when they got some fresh ammunition things would get worse.

 I didnt want to talk to Rachel ever again. I felt that she was pretending to be my friend so that I would do her paper route for her. Who knows. Maybe she really did like me. Maybe it was just the peer pressure. She was always nice to me when we were alone but nobody wanted to be friends with Scary Carrie. I could understand that. I wouldn't want to be my friend either.

Rachel did talk to me that day. She told me they didn't let me in because they were joking. “Can't you take a joke? We were just making fun of you.” I never understood the phrase “making fun”. Maybe they were having fun but I certainly never did. She said that I could come over on Friday. I said no. She was going to make me deliver her papers again. She assured me this was not the case. I didn't believe her. How could I trust her again? I really wanted to go hang out at her house but I felt like I would just be setting myself up. Those girls didn't want me to come over. I felt I was better off sitting alone in my bedroom.

I have countless stories of the cruelty of my classmates. The torment was relentless. When I was called up to the board they would chant “Scary Carrie – Scary Carrie”. The teacher would tell them to stop but it was still humiliation.

 Later, in highschool my life got even worse. Some kids decided that it would be funny to beat up the freak. Cutting across the creek was the fastest way to my house. As I was walking home, a group of kids approached me. I was circled. They snatched my backpack from me. I kept asking them to let me pass. More and more kids came down into the field. They were chanting and laughing. I had nowhere I could go. Someone opened my backpack and took everything out. They ripped apart my binders and textbooks. They through it all in the creek. People began to push me in the circle. I was shoved and shoved. Then someone grabbed my shirt and ripped it off of me. Laughter erupted as I stood there in my bra. Luckily for me this was before the time of camera phones. I asked them what I did to deserve this. They just laughed and kept chanting “Scary Carrie”.

 Finally the crowd disapated and I was left collecting my belongings. I ran back to school. I didn't want to go home. I told the guidance councellor what had happened. That was the biggest mistake of my life because she called the police. She called them without my knowledge or consent. I didn't want the police involved.because I knew it would only get worse.

 I didn't really have any physical injuries. I told the police I didn't want to make a statement. I just wanted to ignore it. I knew the next day was going to be miserable. I was hoping that it would die down in a few days. My mother arrived at the school. She was angry with me. She said kids wouldn't try to beat me up unless I did something wrong. I was then forced to give the police a statement and name names.

I was hoping that nothing would come of my statement but the most horrific thing happened. The police that night picked up 60 kids! Some were arrested but many others were just questioned. 16 kids spent the night in jail. It was all over the local news and word of the jailed kids spread like wild fire. When they were released they were told by the judge that outside of school hours, they were not allowed to hang out together. This made them crazy angry. They blamed me for the loss of their friends. They said I was making a big deal out of nothing. I was ruining their lives because I was a loser.

 The parents of all the arrested kids all got together to fight the charges. They were certain that their little angels would never do what they were being accused of. It got even worse when my mother got involved. She told these parents that I have always been a trouble maker. This only made them believe their kids more when they said they never touched me. It even made the news that the girl making these accusations was a liar and a troublemaker. I was a straight A student who made it my mission to stay away from people. 

It didn't matter what the truth was. The sympathy went to my attackers. They were being framed by a bitter loser because they didn't want me to be their friend. I heard so much crap from all over. I was accused of abusing the legal system. Everyone called me a liar.

The torment at school got even worse. I would have things thrown at me when the teacher wasn't looking, I was pushed down a flight of stairs, I was dragged into the boys bathroom and forced to smell a urinal, I was bodychecked into lockers, I was assaulted in gym class, I was chased down with a car and the list goes on and on.

I missed out on so much because of these kids. I went only to 1 school dance. I ended up hiding under the bleachers until it was over. I couldn't go home early and admit to my mother I had a miserable time. I missed prom. I quit the band which was very important to me. I didn't even go to my own graduation. I didn't want to hear the chanting that I knew would happen as I went to get my diploma. I missed it all.

 I felt like I was bullied and abused by the legal system too. This case took years to complete. In the end most of the charges were dropped. Only the kids that damaged my property were punished. No one was convicted of assault. I was forced to testify against these kids. I spent 4 miserable days on the stand. Each of them had their own lawyer and I was cross examined by each of them. They accused me of all sorts of things to wreck my credibility. It didn't matter if it was true or not. They would question me about every rumor the other kids made up. They accused me of being a slut and the lawyers would ask me if I was having sex. They asked all sorts of stupid questions like that. They said it illustrated my character. Come on – who would have sex with Scary Carrie? Boys were grossed out when they were forced to be my partner in class. I was not having sex. I didn't understand why the lawyers would assault my character like that. Especially when none of it was true.

When I was done testifying, I was cornered outside the courtroom by a group of parents. They asked me why I was continuing this crusade against their sweet innocent children. What was wrong with me. How could I be such an awful person? Why was I trying to destroy lives? I told them the police forced me to testify. (Which was true – I wanted everything dropped and for it to be over.) They asked me what possessed me to make up these stories in the first place. I just wanted to scream “ I'm telling the truth!!” but I knew no one wanted to hear that.

 Of course it was easy for these parents to attack me. I had no one on my side. My mother wouldn't attend court. She was too embarrassed. I was completely alone.

The trial was held in a different town. My mother wouldn't even drive me there. She said I created this mess and I was the one who would have to deal with it. I ended up being driven to court by a police officer. At the end of the day I asked if an officer could take me home. I was told that they are not a cab service. Since I had no money or friends, I had to hitch hike home every day. They would pick me up to testify but not take me home again. Again I felt abused by the police. I told them that I did not want to testify and they told me that if I didn't, then they would arrest me! I was in a no win.

So now that the entire world was against me, the police, my whole school, my family everyone. When the charges were dropped, my world got worse again. I would have to walk down the halls and I would hear what they were saying. “Lying Bitch” “Fat Ass Bitch” “Ugly Freak” “Loser” I could go on forever. The worst was when the girl who was the main instigator of the original incident came right up to me and said “We win. You lose. There's nothing you can do about you ugly retarded bitch.” She slapped me in the face and walked away. The worst part about it was that she was right. There was nothing I could do about it.

That was the day I decided to commit suicide. Luckily for me I wasn't any good at that either. It will sound strange, but trying to kill myself was the best thing for me. (I don't recommend that anyone tries it – YOU CAN'T CHANGE YOUR MIND – DON'T DO IT) After that, I was sent to a foster home and for the first time in my life, I was treated with respect and kindness. I finished out highschool as quietly as possible. Once the police charges were gone, the horrible tension was over.

After highschool, I moved as far away as I could get. I got a good job and found an amazing husband. No one here knows what happened to me in my past and no one judges me for it. All my deformaties had been corrected by the time I hit highschool so no one here knows that I was once a freak. In fact my husband thinks I am beautiful. I never thought it would happen for me. I now have a decent life – free from bullying!

I really need to express to kids going through this right now – SUICIDE IS NOT THE ANSWER! Highschool can be horrible but believe me, once you get out into the real world, you can surround yourself with good quality people and live a good life. The hell you are going through now will end. You will find good friends who will respect you. Be strong. Hold your head up high and know that this is only temporary. I swear it will end. There is life after highschool and it can be great. 

ALWAYS REMEMBER – THIS WILL END. DO NOT END YOUR LIFE. THESE KIDS ARE NOT WORTH YOUR LIFE.

Andrew and his Mother had a compelling story and in my opinion made the show more interesting.

How could a school ignore this? The kids who did this to him must be made known so they can either be helped or punished. Is Jay looking into this ? Is the sheriff ignoring their complaint because he's too busy ?

 Is Dr. Phil helping them with the sheriff report ?  Is the Senator going to help them ?

And who is safewave his mom mentioned  on her board  post thanking Dr. Phil? 

I guess there was a lot more to the story and not enough time.

Too bad Andrew worries about college and job acceptance because of the myspace posting. 

I do wish Andrew all the luck in the world  it was brave of him to tell his story.

Jean

I am sorry for all the pain you have had in your life. You are right those people are not worth it, hopefully

they had a Karma awakening.

It breaks my heart reading your story. I can't help but cry. How incredible for you to pull through and tell your story. That is a good message though, about high school being over and being able to get on with life. I tell my son that all of the time. He gets bullied every day in school and I have tried everything, but I can't walk down the halls with him and make sure they don't do it. The principal and teachers think he asks for it by being himself. They say he shouldn't make it so obvious that he is different. Can you believe such a thing?? Thank you for telling your story because now you are a huge inspiration. I bet now you realize who the real losers were hey? I can't wait for my son to be able to look back and laugh at all of these immature, self-evolved, egotistical "kids" that needed to make him feel bad to feel good about themselves.

Yay to you and good luck in all you do Beautiful!!!

Thank you for your kind post.  I hope that I can help even one person with my story.  I would be so happy if I could help your son feel better about himself.  He sounds like a great kid.

Please let your son know that being different is OK.  In fact - in the real world, being different can be incredibly useful.  Inventors and all sorts of brilliant people were tormented for being different.  These are the people that change the world.  These are the people that are successful entrepreneurs and have the ability to create the life they want.

Being different is a blessing.  I know it is very hard to see that in highschool.   Highschool is so hard because you are stuck seeing the same kids over and over everyday.    As soon as you graduate it is over.

When you get to college, you will find that people are far more open minded.  Bullying - in most cases is looked down upon by your peers in college.  There are always idiots out there but the good thing is that you do not have to associate with them.  You get to choose who you surround yourself with.

I know that is is really tough for your son right now.  I hope he reads my story and sees the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Here is my message for you son: 

Things will get better kid!  Life begins after highschool.  In the meantime, pursue your interests, learn all you can and be successful in your life.  You can do it.  Don't let the naysayers bring you down.  As painful as things feel now, take it from someone with experience, the pain will go away.  When I look back on it now, I know that kids are cruel to those who are different.  It wasn't my fault.  It's not your fault.  You are OK.  There is nothing wrong with you.  You don't deserve it.  Use your differences to your advantage.  Become the real you and I promise people will line up to be your friend.

You have a wonderful mother who loves you so much.  Talk to her.  Confide in her.  Get her perspective.  Often just telling someone who cares will make you feel better.  She won't judge you.  She doesn't think it is your fault.  She loves you no matter what those kids say or do. You are a treasure to your family.  When those kids fade away from your life, those that love you will still be there.  You are destined for a good life.  You can make that happen.  I did it and I know you can too. 

Be strong and take care.  It gets better and better and better.  Sadness and torment will NOT always be a part of your life.

One more thing - I wanted to reccomend a book to read.  It has helped me very very much.  I have read it 20 times and I keep reading it because I always get more out of it.  It is called "How to Win Friends And Influence People" by Dale Carnegie.  It was written in the 1930's but it is still very relevant today.

The techniques probably won't work on the bullies because their attitude is set.  They want to be mean so they will be.  That being said, you will find it works wonders in the real world.

I know how these kids feel. All through school I was constantly bullied. They felt that I was an easy target because I was disabled. I tried to stand up to them but it didn’t work very long. I eventually started insulting myself before they would but it didn’t always help. I got treated like a piece of trash. Sometimes my teachers would even make belittling comments to me. Even today I get bullied online and off. I know that Dr. Phil said tell a teacher and/or your parents but nether one of those will work. I love my parents very much, but I know how they would react. My dad wouldn’t know what to do and my mom would say that I’m over reacting or blowing it out of proportion. I have no one to talk to about it. It has really affected me! I hardly go out anywhere, I’m single because I’m afraid of what they will say, and according to Dr. Phil’s lists, I’m depressed and cover 4 of the criteria for being suicidal. I don’t know about the suicidal thing but it does scare me! BULLYING NEEDS TO STOP!!!!