So, I (15F) was diagnosed with PTSD after a classmate—let’s call her S—pushed me down two flights of stairs in elementary school because she said my nose “wasn’t pretty enough.” (Yes, that’s actually what she told the school supervisor.) I ended up with a broken knee, and ever since, I’ve had panic attacks when I’m near girls who have bullied me or remind me of that time.

Not many people know about what happened. S and her parents apologized and paid for my medical bills, so it was mostly kept quiet. Now, a lot of girls at school are friends with her, or at least on good terms. I never really wanted people to know about my PTSD anyway, because I’ve heard how they joke about mental health, and I don’t know if they’d take me seriously.

The bullying stopped for a while—from 6th grade until partway through 8th—mostly because of COVID. But around mid-8th grade, it started again, just with different girls. They threw trash at me, ripped up both school and personal books (including a special edition AGGGTM copy that I’m still upset about), stole my gym clothes, made gagging sounds around me, and even rested their feet on my back in the auditorium. The whole class excluded me and bullied me because I started focusing on my studies and moved seats to try to get my grades back up—being a surgeon has been my dream since childhood.

At the end of that year, I asked the school supervisor to switch my class for the next year so I could be with a friend and get a fresh start. The only catch was, I’d have to be in the same class as S. I thought I was over the PTSD by then and decided I could manage if I just avoided her. And honestly, I did. 9th grade was smooth, even though I had a falling out with a new friend after a couple of weeks—it wasn’t dramatic, and we didn’t leave on bad terms.

Now the real story begins.

In October 2024, the girls I fell out with—let’s call them A and M—randomly apologized. I didn’t understand why, but I appreciated the courage it took, so I forgave them. A quick backstory: I knew A from way back, and she seemed like someone I could start fresh with. We instantly clicked, and she introduced me to M. A was sweet, down-to-earth, and accepting. M seemed like she had it all—looks, grades, popularity, perfect family. But after 2–3 weeks, we fell out. A completely cut me off, probably out of loyalty to M, and M and another girl, F (whom I never got close to), only spoke to me when necessary.

So when A and M apologized, I was confused. A's apology felt vague but genuine. M, however, slipped up and said, “We believed things someone said without checking,” which made me realize someone had spread rumors about me. My best guess? F. I never thought she liked me, but hearing she might’ve actively caused our falling out hurt.

After the apology, A stopped talking to F completely, especially after F was caught spreading another rumor and mocking someone. M said she’d distance herself, but she still stayed on good terms with F. That didn’t sit right with me.

Then, in December, I got a random call from an unknown number. A girl around my age screamed slurs, then listed my full name, birthday, my parents’ names, and even my old address—then I heard F laughing in the background before the call ended. It gave me my first panic attack in three years. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t walk—an ambulance had to be called. I told A and M about the call, leaving out the panic attack part. A was furious and told me to confront F. M stayed quiet and kept hanging out with her.

When A missed school for medical reasons, M ignored me completely. I started dreading each day, hoping A would walk through the door so I wouldn’t sit alone. When I told A, she said M did the same to her whenever I wasn’t there—basically, M just followed whatever F said. We both started distancing ourselves from M.

M eventually asked to talk things out, but when I told her we were done because she chose F (a known bully) over us, she confirmed it—she chose F. I was angry, but I let it go... until M’s mom called my mom to say I was the bully. Her mom even said she didn’t like F and preferred when M was friends with A and me. I told my mom to explain that M chose F over us.

Still, it got to me. The blame was shifted onto A and me, and my panic attacks came back—every day. I took time off school. I fell behind on 15 assignments. And in a moment of total frustration, I did something I regret: I logged into M’s school account (it wasn’t hard—usernames are ID numbers we all get, and passwords are school-set defaults unless you change them). I downloaded the PDFs she’d submitted and re-uploaded them as my own. I also unsubmitted hers, hoping it’d mess with her grades-which, by the way, she was later caught cheating on.

Even though she hurt me, I still feel guilty. No one knows I did this. And I guess... I kind of blame her and F for dragging me back into the darkness I fought so hard to get out of.

So... AITAH?