The real reason, let's say most important reason, I made this blog is because I want to make a difference in people's life. I feel like what I've been going through these past few weeks might do just that for someone, somewhere. Just know that whatever you're going through, you're not alone! Never stop talking about what's going on, standing together is what makes us strong.
Tomorrow's my sister's birthday. Funny thing is, I have no idea what she would want to get. I say funny, but really things at home have been everything but funny for a few months now. As the older sister, I'm kind of stuck in between my parents and my younger sister. I have no idea what she wants, as I said, but I'm not only talking about potential birthdaygifts, she's really stopped talking about herself. However, I do know what she really, desperately needs. And that's exactly what I'm giving her. She may not know about this blog until she's ready, but at least I've been doing this to make a difference, one day.
Thing is, last year in school, my sister was bullied, a lot. She's always been somewhat of an outsider. She's way too smart for her age and that scares people off. She's super interested in literally everything. When she was little, she'd keep asking my mom things like "why do airplanes stay in the air? How so worms communicate?" Question that, to me, seemed pretty idiotic. I was like why the hell do you care, they just do, okay? Let it go. But she never did. When she was 10 years old, she did a school project about cockroaches. You could work with a partner, but who in heaven's name would want to co-work on such a crazy subject? So she did it all by herself. While I was doing my third project on whatever cuddly animal I had ever seen. Needless to say, people don't really get her. At least not her classmates. Grown ups do, but they also see her as a little kid who should enjoy life and not always hang around with adults who, honestly, just wanted to talk to our parents, not her. Her real friends are -at least- 3 years older than her, but her classmates are not.
So she was bullied. They texted her, called her, simply to insult her. I had to find out because she broke down at one point. It had been going on for weeks when she first mentioned it. She started skipping school because she was "feeling sick". She took painkillers because she felt so awful. At this point, the kids making fun of her started to tell her to commit suicide. Because who would miss her, "next time, take more painkillers", or "she can't even do that, killing herself is too hard for this nerd". While at first she tried to hide it, she started tearing up during movies, meals, ... My mother and I never stopped talking about it. I'm studying pedagogy, so my mom asked me for advice, and what we could do to make sure the school knew and helped. Anyone who's ever been bullied or knows anyone that has, knows that schools don't react. I gave her the advices I had learned about, but of course school messed everything up. They "talked" to my sister, but never heard the entire story "I know enough now", she said, to a kid on the verge of suicide, by that time we'd found a drawing my sister made of someone -herself- hanging, in a tree, with the letters KYS cut all over her body. She told us later that she had to look the meaning up herself, but that's what they'd always told her. Google it maybe. First thing that pops up: "Kill yourself". So that "talk" didn't really do it. They also talked to the bullies, asked them to maybe, you know, stop, because it wasn't very nice of them. One of the bullies was a favourite of the school, so what could they possibly do? Suspension? Don't think so!
They never stopped, obviously. So my mother and I, with all screenshots and other evidence, went to the police. Nothing happened though. They promised to interrogate the boys, we even gave them their homeaddresses. Nothing.
This year she's in another school, so we thought maybe it'd get better. We even gave her the choice to stop going and just study at home, do her exams elsewhere. But she insisted. The first week, she came home crying, every. single. day.
To be honest, I don't even know what she looks like when she gets home nowadays. She doesn't say a thing. She goes straight up to her room. Says nothing. Does nothing. Eats nothing. At least not with us. Once dinner's over, she starts cooking. And that's where our other problem and point of discussion begins.
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