So, I was on Facebook yesterday and wrote some posts, had a to and fro, with a FB friend. The subject of my having been bullied in junior high school in the 1970's came up.
And those comments were all deleted by the guy I was to'ing and fro'ing with. I didn't know that was possible, but apparently it is.
I will post those comments here, as best as I can recollect, and expand on them. Because I can, and nobody can stop me. And nobody can delete these comments.
I was bullied to within an inch of my life during the three years I attended junior high school. That was between September of 1976 and June of 1979. The school was King's County Academy in Kentville, Nova Scotia.
Hell on earth.
I cannot recall one good day from that period of my life. Not one. I'd go to school every day and expect to be tormented by the same six people or so, and ignored by most of the rest. Those expectations were always met, often in spades. Pushed down stairs. Beaten up. Verbally abused. Mocked. Ridiculed. Is it any wonder I listened to the radio so much, and read so much, and found other things to do that did not require the presence of other human beings?
Weekends were about girding my loins and dreading returning to school Monday morning. I mostly stayed in my bedroom with the door closed, coming out for meals or television or bathroom breaks. My bedroom was right next tot the bathroom. Sunday nights were the worst, as it presaged Monday morning and going back to that place.
To this day, I have no idea what I did to earn their rancor. What terrible thing I did in a previous life to warrant their treatment of me. What horrible back story each of those people had had that they felt it necessary to pick on me, relentlessly, mercilessly.
By grade 9, I'd hide out in the school's massive library. I would often sit at a table close to where the librarian was so that I could not be bullied as much.
Let's not forget the teachers. A few of them were less than kind to me, too. The gym teacher hated me. I am not exaggerating. He despised me for reasons I still don't know. My former niece had him as a gym teacher a few decades later and reported that he was a nice man. I don't get it.
I left that fine, fine educational institution after three years and went to senior high school at another school, in another town, a place called Cornwallis District High School in Canning. Three comparatively good years of my life followed. Lots of work. Some BS. But at least people weren't beating me up any more.
I still have some scars from that period of my life. I continue to have trust issues. I don't make friends easily. I remain sensitive to the perception of bullying. I feel that I have been bullied once or twice in the work place, for example, and nothing was ever done about it.
It gets better. If you were bullied in school, or are being bullied now, it gets better. Leave where you are, if you can. Try to ignore the bullies, if you can. Find things to do that enrich your spirit. Become interesting.
See you tomorrow.