It is 2012 and I have somehow gotten myself in the stranglehold of a classmate of mine. I fruitlessly wriggle to get free but only to feel the hands around my neck getting tighter and my panic setting in. Ignorant of how serious the situation was becoming, the kids around us were giggling and pointing. Noise started to become vague. My heart started to beat faster and louder. My limbs became ponderous. My vision was tunneled. I gasped for breath; my face and mouth were covered with small gravelly stones. I coughed and spat to catch my breath. I have been the victim of bullying for most of my elementary and middle school years. I have experienced it in all of its forms: from name calling and intimidation to even punches, kicks, hair pulling, shoves, etc. I can even recall sitting in the corner of the lunchroom, holding my tears back and feeling the salty lump in the back of my mouth. Being bullied is an abhorrent feeling. You just don’t know how to stop it. You have to keep an eye out for anything you say or do because it can be prone to scrutiny and mockery by others, and so, you end up saying and doing nothing. You try to retract to a small enclave and speak only when needed in a very soft manner so you go unnoticed. But from experience, I know this approach doesn 't work. It wasn 't until my freshman year in high …show more content…
Where I thought I would need to endure this trial alone, I discovered such love and empathy amongst my family and companions that helped remind me that all was not lost. My mind voyaged numerous spots all through this period from the ordinary mundane to the unique abstract; however, the most productive of my voyages was that in which I remembered why I had trained and worked so hard. I thought of numerous other reasons such as the need to get in shape or get fit, but upon deeper scrutiny and exploration, I can still clearly see that I was bound by my