The Bully

Bully: A person who uses strength or power to harm or intimidate someone weaker.

Everyone knows a bully. Everyone has been bullied or maybe even been the bully themselves.

I wasn't too popular in school. I knew it. I was different. Even a little weird. Sometimes I was ok with it and sometimes I wasn't. But I wish I had confidence then like I do now. 

I am going to share a few of my personal bully experiences but I'm not doing it for a pity party. I promise there is a point to it. :) 

I can distinctly remember the night after cheerleader try outs my 8th grade year. I made the squad. I had celebrated with my family, I called my grandparents, and texted my friends all night. Before I went to shower I plugged my phone in to charge. When I came back I had a miss call and a voicemail. I can still hear the voice on the message so clearly. 

"U-G-L-Y! U-G-L-Y! You ugly!" 

I remember looking at myself in my bedroom floor length mirror as I listened. My scrawny 13 year old self. And I burst into tears. Because I believed it. And I believed it for a long time. I never told anyone about the message. I was so embarrassed about it. But I let it control my thoughts for too long. 

Another time was the summer before my senior year. I was in the choir presidency and we were having a meeting at a park. I was waiting for a ride from a dear friend in my ward. 

I heard her pull up and knock on the door. 

I opened the door ready to go. And then I noticed her nervous expression. 

"I didn't do it," she said. 

"I don't know who did. But you need to come see this." 

And there, on my very own driveway, in permanent marker, someone wrote, "Avery is a.... (Long list of profanities)." 

Thankfully my mom is a master as getting stains out so she immediately scrubbed it off. I went to the meeting (that didn't last long because no one else showed up) and then I went home. I remember staring at the spot where the message was and wondering what I did to make someone hate me so much. This bullying incident is probably the closest I ever came to experiencing depression before I had children. 

Now, here I am. Just a few months away from my 21st birthday. I'm a little more confident in myself and I've learned to shake off rude comments and ignore bullies like everyone says to. 

Except one. 

There is a bully who just won't leave me alone. She is cruel. She is unforgiving. And she is hard to ignore because she is me. 

Some of the symptoms of PPD are feelings of helplessness, guilt and inadequacy. This second round of PPD wasn't as obvious as the first. It started with little thoughts here and there. 

"I snapped at Tyler. That was bad. I'm ashamed and sorry. I need to do better." 

"I can't keep up with the house work. I am just not cut out to be a good wife and mother." 

"I just sounded like an idiot in front of a customer. I just need to keep my dumb mouth shut. No wonder no one wants to hang out with me."

I am the bully. 

A fellow PPD survivor recently said, "Be kind to yourself." 

And every time one of those mean thoughts comes into my head I can hear those words. 

Be kind to yourself. 

I can't run from this bully. 

But I can stand up for myself.

And I'm ready for this bully to be gone for good.