My chief memory of secondary school was that I was bullied. Because I was quirky, quiet and dressed unlike the other kids my age, I was always an easy target. While I can admit that I did bring negative attention to myself at times, I don’t believe I ever deserved to get bullied as I did, and I don’t believe any child or teenager should be ganged up on, no matter what they might or might not have done to provoke this behavior.

I went to a small, public primary school, where I was exposed to all sorts of people from all kinds of different backgrounds. Some of the kids lived in castles and laughed at the size of my house when they came over to play, and others lived with a single parent in an estate surrounded by violence. I was a very accepting and empathetic person at a very early age because of this, and I wanted to be friends with everyone I ever met.

When I turned thirteen, I got quite a fright when I moved to a private South Dublin college with a capacity of over one-thousand students.There were numerous blocks for different subjects, enormous sports grounds and I was overwhelmed by the difference between this school and my primary school. I remember going to a school mass on my first day, and sitting on the floor thinking ‘How on earth am I going to get through these next six years?’ It was a huge transition

Of course, it didn’t help that I didn’t know anybody. Many of the people in my year had progressed into secondary school with past classmates from their primary schools, so cliques formed very quickly. My outgoing personality quickly became one of pure social anxiety, shyness – and dread. I felt like the only way I could integrate into this new society was by either saying or joking about shocking things, which was, for sure, when I began to be victimised.

That November, I had my first ever panic attack. I was in a toy store with my mother and my brother after school one day, and all of a sudden I couldn’t breathe. I started to cry and uncontrollably shake, and when I got home afterward, I was in a state of shock. The loneliness of the past few months combined with the extreme transition brought on an unstoppable feeling of fear, and I constantly thought I was dying of some deadly disease.

This led to me asking random people in my classes for reassurance that I wasn’t actually dying, and in some cases, I’d have panic attacks which were so bad that I’d have to be brought to the school nurse for the rest of the day. The only support I got from school services for this new and horrific dose of anxiety was a call to my parents telling them that I was ‘attention seeking.’

I got a horrible reputation for being an attention seeker, a liar and a freak, and all the shocking things I’d said because of my anxiety spread around the school like wildfire. I was threatened by students in my year that they’d try to expel me, and one time when I was verbally abused and sent threat texts by a classmate, the year head told me, I brought this all on myself, and that this classmate was a good student, and as her dad was a teacher, she’d never do anything to ruin his reputation.

While I was picked on in all of my academic classes, I always looked forward to physical education in the hopes that it would give me a chance to prove to people that I could be fun and a good team player. But unfortunately, I was picked on by the teachers of this class because I was unfit and couldn’t carry out a basic tumble, a cartwheel, or do well in a bleep test. They would make me redo moves in front of the entire class over and over again to the point that I would panic and run out to go to the nurse- adding to my ‘attention seeking’ reputation

On the school bus every day, I was also bullied by all of the students on it. They would slag my new haircut, the music I was listening to, how my skirt wasn’t as short as the other girls’ skirts- sometimes they’d deliberately not let me open the door to get out at my stop.

After this nightmare of a year, my parents got me an interview at a public school closer to home. I told them everything, from the teachers ganging up on me to the students threatening me, and they were so appalled that they instantly offered me a place. I cried and cried with happiness and relief that I would never have to go back to the school that both started my anxiety and destroyed my academic confidence.

I attended this public school for a year, and I loved every minute of it. I made friends for life who I still have today, and my confidence came back. At this point, I was attending therapy for my anxiety which really helped me get through the trauma of my first year. Unfortunately, all of my subjects were taught through Irish, and by the time of Christmas in third year, I had to move to an English-speaking school in order to do well in my Junior Certificate.

I wasn’t nervous to move to this new school, as I’d had such a positive experience with the previous one. It was another large and private South Dublin school, but it had a brilliant reputation. Of course, cliques were already formed and it was difficult to integrate into the year because of this. 

But because I’d become confident and outgoing, I was probably a bit too forward and perhaps a bit too ‘advanced’ in some instances (I smoked and had boyfriends). This was when my worst nightmare came to life – my reputation from the first school came to this new school through some connections. People in my year were told to be ‘wary’ of me. 

Once again, at the drop of a pin, I was alone. Anyone who I tried to be friends with would be distant, and if I approached a group to try and hang out with, they would often ignore anything I said or would look at each other with wide eyes as though I had three heads.

The bullying and isolation got so bad that I couldn’t actually sit in the canteen to eat my lunch without being asked to move. It was a complete Mean Girls scenario where I had to lock myself in a cubicle to eat my lunch.

The same began to happen in classes, where I’d be asked to move by my classmates. I ended up skipping many of my classes and either asking the nurse if I could have a nap in one of the beds in the nurse’s suite, or if she said no, I would lock myself in a cubicle, put my coat on the floor and lie there and try to sleep until the last bell rang.

I had the same problem with some of the teachers in this school as I had in the first school; many of them told me that I was bringing the bullying on myself, that I didn’t make enough of an effort with my fellow classmates, or that the particular people I told them were bullying me were ‘actually very friendly kids’ and that it was probably me who was the problem. My life was quickly becoming  a living hell.

Did I ever contemplate suicide over this? Yes. Of course, I did. For the entire duration of my secondary school years, I self-harmed. My arms were covered in scars, and I used to wear wrist bands to cover up some of the scars. People in my year sometimes caught a glimpse of them and would spread the gossip around, telling people I was, again, ‘attention seeking,’ when really I wish someone could have reported it so I could get the help to stop. 

In fifth year, I finally went to the school therapist about my self-harming and she helped me to stop. While she was completely useless helping me with the bullying situation, she did help me stop hurting myself, and that’s something that’s stuck – I can’t imagine ever doing that to myself again.

In my final year of school, one of my closest friends outside of school took his own life. This horrified me, and because many people in my year knew about it, the bullying stopped. Even though the bullying had ceased, sixth year was the most difficult year of all because of the loss of my friend. Classmates would ask me if I was okay, teachers would offer me guidance, and my urge to self-harm stopped. I couldn’t believe that the loss of a life was the one thing that made people be kind to me. It hurt so much.

I completed my Leaving Certificate with an amount of points I was happy with, and I was delighted to close this chapter of my life. Five years on I am a successful makeup artist, I gig and perform my songs about many of these experiences, and I’ve had several successful careers. I still have an anxiety disorder, and I still get upset over how I was treated by both students and teachers and how they ignored my pleas for help.

I was shocked at how I had horrible experiences in the two private schools but had a positive one in the public school. In the public school, there was no ‘anti-bullying week’- everyone just knew not to bully each other, and the teachers didn’t put up with any crap from any students who targeted one another. But in the private schools, they both had anti-bullying week, which wasn’t enough to prevent people like myself from having their school lives ruined. 

I’m hoping that my story can inspire those who are currently being bullied and can encourage people who may be the actual bullies to be kind. I don’t think the people in the private schools I went to truly understood the damage that was done, and to be honest- maybe they never will. But one things for sure, there has to be a better system dealing with bullying in schools, where ears are listening to all those who cry for help.