I speak of the days I spent tortured by bullies very bluntly. I can recall hundreds of accounts of bullying, all which make people gasp, some which even make others cry to hear, but I speak of them bluntly. As emotionless as I possibly can be. I always evoke two responses after I have told my tales of woe; "It breaks my heart that this happens to you and I wan't there to stop it" and "aren't you angry or upset by it all". My answers have always remained the same until now; "It's okay, it's not like you are to blame" and "life is too short to waste time worrying about the past".
Today I plan on telling the truth for the first time...
In all honesty, I don't allow myself to feel when it comes to discussing things such as bullying. If I allowed myself to feel I would be left with such excruciating pain I fear it. I fear the pain it may cause. I have often been heard to say "you have to either laugh or cry", but I can't even do that when it comes to my past. Laughter would be out of the question and I fear I would be able to drown in tears if I let myself.
So I don't.
Truth be told, I don't allow myself to have any feelings toward myself at all. I do not care about myself. I do not allow myself to care about myself. Why?
Because it would be too hard, it would be too heartbreaking to.
I know that some people will have cried at my blog posts. I know that some have cried to my face when I have told them my stories. Now imagine that a friend or loved one feels that deeply about something that hasn't happened to them it upsets them, then imagine what it must be like for me, as the person it happened too. Lets do a little experiment to prove my point. I will tell you about a time I was bullied, and if you feel anything, imagine how I must feel and then tell me if you think it would be easy for me.
Here goes:
I was bullied a lot in secondary school. By that I mean the years in which I attended secondary school, not just the place. No, I was the target of bullying from the moment I left home in the morning to the moment I got back. To point where I began being dropped off at school at 7:30 in the morning whilst my amazing mum was on her way to school and then would wait until 5:30 in the evening to be picked up, when my amazing mum would be on her way home from work. One incident on the bus was the final straw to make me change the length of my day so drastically.
My morning bus ride had been pretty much the same as usual. The same people (everyone) calling me the same names (every insult you can relate to being about being fat and/or gay) whilst I had things thrown at me like spit balls, pieces of paper set on fire, rubbish etc. After this journey I decided to take a later bus home then usual. I waited in the library until 4 and got the 4:45 bus. On this bus were three young lads in the same uniform as I. As I sat down they moved from the back of the bus to seats opposite/in front of me. They then spent the next 15 minutes throwing pennies at me and through tears of laughter shouting "buy yourself something nice for valentines day 'cos no one else ever will you fat cow. heifer. ugly fuck." I tried not to cry, I chocked back tears as I kept being hit in the face by their coin tosses. At one point the driver threatened to throw them off, he physically stopped the bus to shout at the boys (wow someone was ACTUALLY sticking up for ME), but if anything it made them worse.
When I got off the bus I walked to a quite space and sobbed to myself before making myself look presentable and walking home. Then I swallowed my pride and tried to forget it. But I couldn't. You can't. You can't forget when someone says such horrible things about you. You cannot forget when someone says you should die because you are a waste of oxygen. You cannot forget being told to kill yourself because you offend someones eyes.
Now, go back to before when I asked you to imagine what I would feel, if I let myself feel, based on what you feel after reading this. You can't can you?
I shall tell you. It's bloody awful. When I let myself feel for myself it is dark, twisty, scary, terrifying, loud and bloody scary. So for years now I haven't let myself feel or care about myself. I have thundered on. Through secondary school. Through college. Through Uni. Into adulthood. And what am I left with? I am a broken shell of someone I might have once known and loved. I spend days so emotionally broken I cannot function. I cannot function because I won't allow myself to feel properly. I don't really know where all my pain comes from because I have spent years of my life perfecting the art of hiding my pain and blocking out my memories.
I am trying to reach into the darkness and face head on some very heartbreaking memories but it is hard. It drains me. Mentally and physically drain me.
But I am trying.
I am trying to feel better. I am trying to be better. I am trying to let myself feel again. More then that I am trying to let myself care about myself. To live I have to care about myself and it is a terrifying thought because I'm not too sure that I want to care about me...I think it will be too upsetting to care about me. But I will continue to try.
So please bare with me. This could get messy.
Thanks for reading and keep smiling,
Rebecca :)
P.S. If you or anyone you know is suffering from bullying in any capacity, ask them to speak up and support them while they do. I didn't have any fight left in me when I tried to speak up, please don't let others go through this. Please.
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