The Beginning

My signs did not start being noticed till shortly after the divorce when everyone was going though counseling. For me that was seventh grade of middle school. An already rough time for any pre teen or teenager of that time.

I was already in a bad mental state because of the whole thing. If someone said the wrong thing at me I would end up lashing out at anyone that decided it would be bright to mess with my family or I. At the time I really did not have a healthy outlet to get out all of the pent up frustration and anger that I held, so really anyone could be a victim.

It is my seventh grade science class, and my teacher was already done lecturing us for the day. Everyone was doing their own thing from reading to themselves; which is what I was doing; to talking with their friends about anything and everything. We were all just waiting for the bell to ring so we could quickly leave and move on to the next class. All I can really remember was that a classmate; who was also a bully of mine; was trying to "talk" to me about my parents. Word travels fast when you live in a small town so it really didn't take much for everyone to find out. The kid was saying how lucky he was that his parents were together. That they would never divorce. Well, he jinxed that since in our junior year they did indeed divorce. He was doing the usual bullying antics. None of the kids said anything to stop him. They all just waited and watched the show that was unfolding. I on the other hand was quickly loosing my patients for him. I didn't want people to see me as weak then so they could pick on me more than usual. So, I tried to be good by not saying anything at all, and just ignoring him as anyone would do at first instinct. That is what everyone tells and teaches you at least. All he was trying to do was to make my day worse than it already was. He would not drop it after ignoring. he kept going. I then replied to him telling him to stop, and to leave me alone a couple times. I was beginning to wonder why the teacher was not doing anything. When I asked a student; they told me that she had to run to the office for something. Great I was all alone. I was stuck with him.

I went back to ignoring him for the rest of the period until he said something that you do not ever tell a kid with divorced parents. It's your fault.

After that it was like a switch had just flipped, and I just snapped. I was done hearing about his "perfect family", or anything else he had to say. I stood up, got into his face as the rest of the classroom got quiet wondering what was about to happen. During this short time of being at this school the only track record I had was being supper bubbly and happy. Never did anyone see any of my other emotions. Especially if it was any of my negative emotions. I partially blacked out for I do not remember what I said. I only remember starting out in a calm tone as it slowly progressed to me screaming and shouting at this bully. He looked shocked and a little scared along with the rest of the class. I was to the point there was tears coming out from me crying my eyes out from rage and sadness. I was close to my breaking point. Which to this day I keep under wraps to not hurt anyone. like I used to. Luckily, the teacher came in while I was yelling. I didn't get detention; on the contrary. The bully got sent to the principle's office while I got sent to the guidance counselor's office. The other students in the class told the teacher what had happened so we got split our separate ways. The faculty was made aware of my family situation for reasons like the one that just occurred. So they could ac accordingly; which for the most part they did. I talked to her, told her how I felt and what happened, as she called my dad and proceeded to tell him what happened.

Not too long after this event we had another visit to the counselor that diagnosed me with PTSD. We went to her for a brief bit as we went as a family or just my father and me. It would slowly go down to just me. A few times throughout the first year if I had a bad session my father and I would skip school calling me sick so I could have a mental day. I would spend the whole day with him and my now mom running errands before my siblings got out of school later that day. So much more though was yet to come for the next few years.