You're being bullied. It's been going on a while, and it's wearing you down. You know you could tell an adult, and that it might help. But you can't get past one thing: telling feels like admitting you can't handle it yourself, like being a baby, like grassing. You'd almost rather keep taking it than be the kid who "couldn't cope" and went running to a grown-up. So you carry it alone, putting on a face, pretending you're fine, while it quietly gets heavier. The pride that's stopping you from telling is the same pride that's making each day harder than it needs to be.