Fuzzle’s Struggle and Revelation

Hiya! I’m Lore, but I’m known across the great wide internet as Fuzzle. Weird nickname, I know, but what can I say? Friends aren’t always the best at nickname-giving. I’m sending this in to tell you my story, and the effect that the song had on me. I should probably start with a little back story, though.
I’m a 19 year old girl from Ontario, Canada. And for as long as I can remember, and probably even before that, I’ve had anxiety issues. I would always ‘make a mountain out of a molehill’, as my parents said. Whether it was freaking out because I was wearing slippers and that meant that I wouldn’t be able to tell if I stepped on something (yay for being 3…), or bawling my eyes out at recess in elementary school because someone called me a name, I would always overreact to everything.
With that in mind, imagine what elementary school would have been like for me.
Right from the very first day of kindergarten, I was teased relentlessly. First it was for being younger than a boy in my class. After that it was for being able to read at the much-too-young age of (gasp) four! If I wasn’t being teased for my intelligence, it was for my glasses or my crooked teeth or my dirty blonde hair. As I got older, the bullying got worse.
In grade one, kids hid my boots in the middle of winter so I couldn’t go outside for recess. When I sat in the corner of the schoolyard reading a library book, they would kick mud on me so I would have to pay for it. During games of soccer, I would be delegated to the role of goalpost, and had a ball kicked at my face. Needless to say, I wasn’t the most popular of girls.
Elementary school continued much in that same fashion, with the bullies never getting really physical. In grade seven, my anxiety took a turn for the worse. I was suddenly terrified that bad things were going to happen to the people I loved, and that my three friends really hated me and were just pretending to like me in order to stab me in the back later. I never told anyone about my anxiety, because I assumed that they would tell me I was being stupid, and to suck it up and deal with it like anyone else.
By that point, I had been called ugly, stupid, fat, worthless, useless, pathetic, and a million more insults that I don’t even want to remember. My name had been turned into stupid rhymes, and I was essentially the outcast of my school. No one wanted to be friends with me — no one even wanted to be seen talking to me. I hated myself. I hated my height, my glasses, my hair, my teeth. Everything I could possibly hate about myself, I hated.
Then high school hit. Suddenly everything was a lot better. The bullying was gone, the people who had done it moved to different schools or at least lost in the crowd of over 2000 students. I had an actual group to hang out with, thanks to a friend’s older brother. But the self-hated and the anxiety remained. I was still the different one. I was still the girl that was just a little too much into her books and her computer. I was still on the outside of the circle, looking in.
Grade ten was when I first contemplated suicide. I forget why, or what they were for, but I had a bottle of pills in my room. It was still half full, and I was in one of my frequent moments of ‘I’m a terrible person and I deserve to die’. It was only a well-timed text from my boyfriend that got me to talk myself out of doing it. My anxiety and hatred of myself were at an all-time high, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I had depression at the time as well. But once again, I hadn’t told anyone.
Grade 12, my boyfriend and I broke up. It was a mutual decision, and we stayed friends. I quickly found another guy, and we hit it off really well. I told him about how much I hated myself, and he did his best to ‘fix’ me. It didn’t work. I was still anxious, and likely depressed. I took a fifth year of high school, unable to afford college yet. That’s what shit hit the fan, to put it lightly.
I started having panic attacks. I started hitting myself (rather than cutting because ewblood). I started contemplating suicide again. And most importantly, I started hating myself even more than I already did. That summer, in late August, I told my parents what was going on in my head. They sent me to the doctor, and he prescribed be an antidepressant called Zoloft. It was amazing.
And then suddenly college. I was (and am) a software engineering student, at one of the best colleges in Canada. In college I met an amazing guy, who I’ll call here by his internet name — Minijaws. He and I instantly clicked. It was infatuation-at-first-sight. My boyfriend and I broke up, and two weeks later, Minijaws and I were dating. Hurray, huzzah.
Minijaws is a brony. He’s the reason I’ve seen every episode of the show, and am eagerly awaiting season 4. And he’s also the reason I heard this song. We were sitting at a bus stop at like 10:30 at night, waiting for my bus to show up so I could get home. And he asked if I wanted to hear a song that made him cry. I, being insanely curious, agreed. He took out his phone and showed me this song, and I started crying.
The song really hit home. I’m the girl that hates herself, that has no idea what her talent is, that’s always been different. I’ve always hated being different, and have never wanted anything more than just to be able to fit in (except maybe perfect vision).
This song made me realize that maybe I shouldn’t hate myself for being who I am. It made me realize that yeah, I’m different, but there’s nothing to be ashamed about.
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One comment to Fuzzle’s Struggle and Revelation

  • the girl with music in her heart  says:

    Im glad things are now going well for you. I know how it feels to be bullied and being called names so I can relate alot to your story. I hope things continue to go well for you.

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