Who are you?

Sometimes I feel as if I have amnesia.

I have a lot of trouble remembering things, but my memory returns to me in random bursts.

I think it's because I had such a shitty childhood. I'm not talking about the whole 'abusive alcoholic parents' thing, they weren't like that back then. They are now, but that's beside the point. No, I'm talking about my school life. I know I've bitched about that a lot but this time it's very important.

Some of my memories I've replaced with blissful nothingness. Everyone thinks I'm stupid, but I'm not. I don't remember anything, and I think it's for a purpose.

My theory is that when I was little, something went off in my brain that just erased all the bad things. I subconciously trained myself to get rid of the bad things and it ended up rewiring my brain. Every time I moved or transfered schools, my memory of the previous place would disappear. Then it got to whenever I went up a year in school the previous year was lost, and now it's so bad that if someone gets a new haircut my memory of their old one will be completely erased, no matter how long they had it.

I remember little things though, repressed memories that come back to haunt me in my darkest hours.

I remember how when I was six, I would cry all the time. When I was at school, I was unmercifully bullied. When I was on the bus, I was fighting back tears. And by time I got to my stop I was running towards my house with tears streaming from my eyes, begging for a transfer. But I was six years old. Nobody takes a six year old's sorrows seriously. I got beat up, spit on, picked on, called names, harassed, called stupid and worthless...

Ring a bell?

I begged each and every day for half my life to get out. I needed out. I needed to transfer from hell. I begged my parents for a chance to start anew.

But they thought I was overreacting. When I told them what people put me through, they thought I was blowing it way out of proportion. When I showed them the marks the other kids left on me, they thought I was acting out for attention. When I told a teacher they said there was nothing they could do.

Then it was second grade and the teacher hated me too. I got the same thing as before.

Third grade I was in a new school. Fresh meat. All anyone did was pick on me. They did the same things that the kids in my other school did. (I was still in the same district, but we moved. If I had gone to another district it might've stopped) My teacher hated me and I was always singled out.

Fourth grade, hazy. All I remember was having a shitty teacher from my old school. Apparently I had a reputation I didn't deserve and she hated me. I was flunked on projects that other kids got A's on, and their projects weren't as good as mine!

Fifth grade, I was at the top. All the kids in the lower grades practically worshipped me. All the kids in my grade loathed me. My teacher was awesome, and he knew my dad from when he taught my dad fifth grade. (Coincidence? I think not) My math teacher hated my guts, but he hated everyone. I got pushed down the stairs, punched in the gut... etc. The counselor hated my guts and started rumors about me and said I was suicidal when I wasn't. I didn't get the lead role in the school play, but I didn't want it. I got to be the gerbil anyways, and that is so much cooler.

Sixth grade it all started. The 'don't mess with this punkfuck' reputation. I liked it. It was all because I punched the coolest kid in school in the arm in self defense and he ran away crying. Five minutes later it was all over the cafeteria that I punched him in the face. Ten minutes later they said I kicked him in the nuts. It was really funny to see the preppy girls whine to me about how I punched the douchebag.

Seventh grade, uneventful. My Catholic teachers hated me for some reason. It was probably a rumor.

Now I'm in eighth grade, but you've heard enough of that. The point is the only thing that has worked as a bully repellant is things like 'the Ruler Incident.' And it still never goes away.

Now my 'family' just looks me up and down and says, "This isn't you. You haven't been yourself for years." I'm just not the 'change yourself to make everyone happy' person I was. And I refuse to change for anyone ever again.

My mom says she failed me. I'm not nice to people who treat me like shit, I don't respect people who don't earn it, I hate her husband, and I apparently have no sense of right and wrong. Ever since she started to suspect that I'm not totally straight, she's been saying that I have no sense of right and wrong and I shouldn't hang out with my friends anymore because I probably creep them out.

It's a shitty life like this that's made me have low self-esteem. That kept plummeting and plummeting and it just completely snowballed into one huge inferiority complex. Nothing I've ever done has been good for anyone, and as a result I'm just not good enough for myself. And it makes me hate myself even more!

So I'm stuck with this 'amnesia,' forever doomed to forget everything until the day I die, or maybe until people let up, which will never happen.

Why does life have to be like this?