Bullying

This post was inspired by Single Dad Laughing's post on bullying.

I went through a lot of the same things he did, emotionally. I wasn't fat, but I was a geek. And I got tormented for being different. Some of the stand-outs: having a project destroyed in art class; having a "Kick Me" sign taped to my back; getting prank-called; being told that no guy would ever find me attractive; being used as the standard of "loserdom" in school.

Unlike Dan, I haven't hidden this part of my past. It's part of who I am. In some way, it made me stronger. I think it's a major reason why I get so upset about injustice, intolerance, or bigotry. And the process of learning to love myself after questioning my self-worth for so long has helped me mature into the person I am today.

But it was brutal.

I think Dan perfectly captured the mind-set of someone who is bullied relentlessly. I quickly learned to hate myself. To feel I was completely worthless, that no one would (or even could) love me. To feel worse than invisible.

I wanted to die.

Not in the hyperbolic, "Noooo, something didn't go perfectly right, my life is ruined, argh I want to die!!" drama-queen fashion.

No, I really wanted to die.

Sometimes, even now, it scares me how close I came. I remember how much I just wanted to die, to blink out of existence, and it frightens me. I remember trying to think of a painless way to kill myself. That's what held me back, really - the fear of pain. If someone had offered me a pill that would have granted me painless death, there's a good chance I would have taken it.

Maybe you think it's cowardly. Maybe you think I should have been stronger. Maybe you think I should have known that it would get better eventually.

But at that time, the way my peers were treating me convinced me that I was a worthless human being. Not just different, or even less. I was made to feel that I was literally worth nothing. And being worth nothing, what rationale did I have to continue living?

Recently, I mentioned in passing to my dad that I'd gone through this in middle school, and he told me later that he felt he must have been a failure as a father to have not noticed it. But the truth is, there's no way he could have. After all, I felt like a worthless human being - why would I bother anyone else with my troubles? Why should I believe that anyone else would care? I hid my hurt, internalized it, until it festered and consumed me, making me feel worthless from the inside, rather than because of the external bullying.

I'm so grateful that I came through it all, that I survived that experience. Because now, taking the long view, I can see that the bullying was never about me - it was about the bullies' desire (or perhaps need) to feel bigger than someone else. I was an easy target, that's all.

And the experience has had lasting effects, both positive and negative.

Having had to deal with people who made my life miserable just to feel better about themselves, I'm always inclined to be more sympathetic to those in less fortunate positions than myself. I don't feel I have the right to judge others, and I certainly don't need to do so in order to feel good about myself. And if I can sympathize, I want to help. I think dealing with the bullying in school, years ago, has shaped me into a person who is motivated to help others now.

That's the positive.

The negative is the lasting effect of being made to feel personally worthless. Dan mentions that in high school he learned to love himself again; I went through the same thing at about the same time in my life. (For me, the bullying was intense in middle school, but let up significantly in high school.) However, the process of learning to love myself was a long and difficult one, and continues today. I still have feelings of being "less than worthy." I still doubt my intelligence, my beauty, the value of my friendship and love. The bullying was almost a decade ago, but the scars from it run deep.