I can`t sleep tonight, wide awake and so confused.  Everything`s in line, but I am bruised.  I need a voice to echo.  I need a light to take me home.  I need a hero. Is it you? – Demi Lovato, Nightingale 

This song sums up almost all the emotions that I was going through when I was being bullied.  I would lie awake at night in my bed, crying and thinking.  Crying because I didn’t know what I ever did to deserve it.  Thinking because I wanted to fix whatever was “wrong” with me.  That thinking led to confusion because I didn’t even know where to start, yet alone what was wrong with  me.  I was nice to everyone, even to those who did me harm.  I was bruised, not just physically, but mentally/emotionally as well.  So emotionally bruised that it was time for me to go see someone for help.

Somebody speak to me.  Cause I`m feeling like hell.  Need you to answer me.  I`m overwhelmed.  I need a voice to echo.  I need a light to take me home.  I need a star to follow.  I don’t know.

The help that I received was just the basic building blocks of trying to bring myself back up.  The focus was put on the fact that I was bullied to the point where I withdrew myself from others.  I didn’t know who to trust, and as a result I became socially awkward.  Which only gave them more ammunition to use when they picked on me.  I learned to try to get out of my comfort zone.  I joined the middle school track team as a way for me to get out there and talk to people.  With all the running that I was doing, I lost weight and the sad part is that people started talking to me once I lost a few pounds (how shallow are we?).  I knew that I had to do more.

Can you be my Nightingale?  Sing to me.  I know you`re there.  You could be my sanity.  Bring me peace.  Sing me to sleep.  Say you`ll be my Nightingale.

But when track season ended the bullying got worse.  I was no longer the fat kid who was easy to pick on.  I became the fat kid that ran, ran slow.  I hated it. I`ve posted about the day that I turned my life around before (see post titled “Skyscraper”), but when I was a freshman I almost ended my life.  Something happened, maybe a flip switched in my brain or whatever you want to call it.  From that moment on I was no longer the victim.  I would not allow myself to be the victim.  I stayed strong and picked myself up and made myself a Skyscraper (metaphorically speaking).  I became a Warrior with the armor that was created by all the hate that was being thrown at me.  I brought myself sanity.  I brought myself peace.  I am my Nightingale.

Goal:  Be your own inspiration. Be someone else`s inspiration.  Be a Nightingale.


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