The bullying really started when I transferred to a different school in the second half of fifth grade.

People whispered about me, gave me dirty looks and talked about me all the time. No one would even get close to me.

6th grade is where it got worse. A group of girls constantly called me fat and ugly. I started to believe it. I thought that they would know what was right because they were higher than me.

I remember when Girl1 accused me of stealing her phone. I didn't even have my own phone at the time, let alone get into any trouble. The rest of her group followed suit and asked me everyday why I stole her phone and if I wanted to get my ass kicked for it.

I told the principle, but she did nothing. I really only had my best friends at my side, but even then it still seemed worthless.

During the summer between 6th and 7th grade, I moved to PA. My mom, my brother and I were living with my mom's friends. They had four kids, all of which physically abused me. I was powerless to it. I said something to their parents multiple times but they never did anything. They just sat there and told me that it was the way they play around.

Their oldest son and I dated at one point. His friends called me a slut all the time. Especially in school. Everyday I would walk up to my locker and hear "slut" "whore" and shit about me being on the corner.

When we moved back home, it sort of got better. Until 8th grade year when I came out as pansexual and a trans male. My family disowned me. My stepdad refused to talk to me. He wouldn't even look at me.

At this point, my depression had gotten to it's lowest point. I self harmed. I had anxiety and paranoia on top of this. During the course of one summer and the end of the school year, I was admmited to three different mental institutions for being suicidal and for depression.

When 9th grade rolled around, I found myself a caring boyfriend and tons of friends who except me for who I am.

My family situation never got better. And I didn't make it better with my attitude, smoking weed, cigarettes, and drinking. But then again, I no longer cared.

I changed a lot over this course of time. I became a druggie. I became emo as fuck. I became a Satanist. I became closer to my mother. I became more accepting of myself after the third hospital admission.

Though, I'm still suicidal and I still have depression. But everything has gotten better, somehow.

My username for wattpad is @AlexYarber