Imagine This (A Narrative on Bullying)

Let me set up a scenario for you. 

Imagine first that you’re a kid, maybe 11 or 12, possibly 13.  You have Asperger’s Syndrome, which means that your social skills are impaired already; plus you’re a preteen/young teen, which means that the rules for your social world are constantly in flux.  But as of yet, you’re not diagnosed; nor has anyone in your life ever heard that word, let alone know what it means.  As if that weren’t bad enough, you’re a girl who is more of a tomboy, who doesn’t see the point in following the social rules or norms, either because it seems like a waste of time, or you’re just mostly oblivious to their existence in the first place. 

Most kids don’t like you very much.  You don’t know why.  Vaguely, you understand that there is something about your being that offends or bothers these kids.  You don’t know exactly what it is.  You think that if you smile at them, if you laugh at their jokes (their very unfunny jokes), if you make a point to be really nice to them, then they’ll see your effort and be friends with you.  You think that if you can find a topic that you both can talk about, that you both like, then maybe you can have something in common and that’ll help the situation. 

They laugh at you a lot, these other kids; sometimes you know why; sometimes you don’t.  They seem to be speaking another language from the one you know.  They use slang that’s unfamiliar to you, because no one in your world speaks it.  Your world consists of what you’ve learned from books (specifically fantasy and fiction and children’s literature), games, adults and perhaps a few highly specialized interests that you really think are cool, that no one else ever seems to get quite as well.  You start thinking that maybe you shouldn’t mention these interests, since they aren’t very well received; but sometimes you just can’t help it, because it’s something that’s important to you, and after all, other kids talk about what’s important to them all the time; so why can’t you? 

Other kids bump into you in the hall.  You try to be more careful as to not bump into them, thinking it was your fault to begin with.  You slowly start to realize that they are purposely trying to hit you.  Maybe it’s a new kind of joke.  Maybe not.  Just to be safe, you always try to smile at them and say “excuse me.”  They laugh, like you’ve said a joke, even though you’re pretty sure that you haven’t. 

Sometimes they trip you and you fall.  When they laugh then, you think maybe you had a stupid expression on your face as you fell or maybe someone said something funny that you missed.  Sometimes you laugh with them, because after all, someone falling flat on their face is kinda funny, right?  Sure.

Sometimes when you fall, you bruise your knee or cut open your lip on someone’s foot that got in the way of your fall.  You try to smile, even though it really hurts, because maybe they can still be your friend if you show that it doesn’t really hurt.  Maybe you can show that you’re one of them, because you’re laughing and having fun, even though you are bleeding on the floor of the hallway.

Eventually, you might figure out that they are doing these things to you because they like seeing you hurt.  Somewhere between them putting a bee down the front of your shirt, setting fire to your backpack, stealing your backpack, flushing your inhaler in the middle of your asthma attack, pushing/throwing you down the stairs, spitting on/at you, giving you indian rope burns, drawing on your shirt in permanent ink, giving you the silent treatment at lunchtime (or just getting up en mass whenever you sit down), grading your homework wrong, threatening your life by showing you a knife that they brought from home just to cut your throat with, you start to realize that maybe they really might not like you.

Slowly, you start to realize that those videos your class watched a few months ago on bullying and bullies were demonstrating things that could really happen in your life.  Who would have thunk it?  So, you think to yourself, like anyone would after having seen those videos, that maybe you should tell someone about it.  Either that, or the thought just never occurs to you as a viable option.

Say you try to talk to the principal about it.  You ride a bus to school filled with these kids that don’t like you.  In fact, as you think about it, you’ve started getting diarrhea every morning before you get on the bus, just from worrying about what might happen that day.  Most of the time your bus gets to school late, and your bus driver tells you to go straight onto class as fast as you can.  Thus, you can’t talk to your principal then, because the bus driver told you get to class as soon as possible. 

All of the breaks in the day, when the kids push you and hit you going through the hall, are only about 5 minutes long.  The halls are crowded enough, without kids purposely trying to run into you; so what should take 2 min. to get down the hall now takes 4 minutes.  Plus, you have to go the bathroom on your breaks, because as it slowly is revealed to you, none of your teachers like you either, and rarely allow you bathroom breaks.  Apparently you are considered a difficult student, because you have to ask a lot of questions just to know what’s going on consistently during class.  Your teacher gives you instructions, but you aren’t sure who they pertain to.  Is she talking to all of the students in the class or just the ones that think that particular way?  You don’t know, so you ask. 

You can’t talk to the principal on any of your breaks.  So you think, well, maybe I can talk to him/her at lunchtime.  At lunchtime, in-between the food fight that seems to be only directed at you, you go over to your teacher, who is far off at their table, and try to ask them to let you go to the principal.  The teacher, thinking that you’re onto some new ploy to be allowed to go the bathroom, or just because they don’t feel like it at the time, says no and tells you to go back to your seat and quit bothering her.  When you leave their table, you hear them all start laughing and wonder to yourself who told the joke and what was it to make everyone laugh so hard???  Boy, if you had that joke, people would fall down at your feet to be your friend. 

You ride the bus at the end of the day.  You have to get to a seat fast, because otherwise, you’ll end up standing/sitting in the aisle for the rest of the bus ride since no one thinks you really deserve to sit down.  Plus, you have to carry on a french horn and even though you might be a little slow socially, you can tell for sure that no one likes trying to accommodate that thing in their seat.  You have no time to talk to the principal because if you miss your bus, you’re stuck at the school even longer, and school isn’t really that great, so why be stuck longer? 

Eventually, either you realize that if you go to the principal, the other kids will see and really will follow through on that threat to come to your house at night and hang you from your front tree; or else you do manage to see the principal and he either:

  1. Doesn’t do anything
  2. Doesn’t believe you
  3. Calls you overly sensitive
  4. Does something, but tells everyone who got them in trouble to begin with, resulting in your getting beat up by an entire crowd of kids, instead of just one or two

 Or some combination of the above. 

Now, the kids that aren’t actively trying to hurt you/embarrass you don’t do anything to you, but sometimes they sit back and laugh while some other kid fills up an entire wall full of spitballs why you crouch on the floor during the lesson. 

There isn’t anyone you can talk to, because either they’re like the principal and don’t believe you, or they call you overly sensitive/compare you to their days of woe and explain that what you’re really doing is building character, because, you see, you really don’t know how it feels to be bullied and they do. 

Every time you walk down the hall, either someone trips you, laughs at you, hits you, or whispers behind your back about how shitty a human being you are.  In fact, sometimes everyone whispers and laughs at you as you walk down the hall.  They say things like, “hey what is THAT?  Is that an IT?  Naw, it’s a SHIT.  Hey SHIT!  Wanna blow me?  No,” another one answers, “you wouldn’t want THAT to blow you; think about what kind of diseases you’d get if THAT touched you.  Bleah.” 

In the meantime, you start writing essays that are centered on themes portraying your violent death, which your teacher awards with A’s, saying things like, “wow, creative, but make sure you work on your handwriting next time.” 

One day, you decide that someone has just pushed too far; that, throwing your inhaler in the toilet was bad enough, but throwing it in the toilet that was full of shit was just a little too much; so you hit someone back for the months of suffering they’ve inflicted on you.  Instantly, the principal is called or the teacher sees it, and you find yourself on lunch detention for a week or better yet, you’re suspended and have to see the school counselor for a month, in order that you might work out your more violent feelings and the ways in which it might be better to handle yourself, should a situation ever arise again.

Or, say you try to hit someone and you don’t get caught, but everyone laughs it off and starts calling you a freak, or rather a nervous and crazy freak . . . and hey, you remember that one time when the nervous freak tried to hit me?  Yeah, that was a laugh riot, wasn’t it. 

Imagine that everyone you tell laughs you off or gets you in deeper shit when they try to do something about it. Imagine that you have teachers who purposely give you bad grades so that they can call you up in front of the class and show the class how “stupid” you really are.  These same teachers also find great pleasure in not letting you go to the bathroom, even when you’re really sick, because it’s obvious to them that you just need a little toughening up. 

Imagine that during PE, when you’re not losing the game and people aren’t throwing basketballs directly at your head just for the hell of it, you’re instead sitting on the floor drawing your name in your arm with a sharpened pencil.  Imagine that no one sees or if they do, they don’t say anything. 

Imagine that this goes on, day after day after day.  Imagine that once every 20 to 30 minutes someone either hits you, kicks you, calls you shit, laughs at you or does all 4.  Imagine that you still think that agreeing with them will make them just suddenly like you.  Imagine that there are good Christian kids that you go to church with that either stand back and let it happen, or that they are the ones doing the worst of the actions against you. 

Imagine that every time you try to fight back, either someone overpowers you, or you get caught and in trouble.  Imagine that every time you tell someone about it, they just tell you to grow up and get over it.  Imagine that you tell the cop at your school and he tells you to quit bugging him and get out of his hair.  Imagine that when you’re at home, you start cutting or burning your arms just for the sake of feeling something, since it seems that unless people can see physical evidence, then it didn’t really happen.  Imagine that you ask trusted people for help and they ignore you and laugh. 

Imagine that you start sleeping in a box on top of your bed for, say, 6 weeks, because it’s the only time you really feel safe.  And your mother just thinks it’s a phase.  Imagine that you start sucking your thumb again, as well as coming down with pneumonia.  Imagine that you start pulling out your eyelashes and eyebrows, and all your parents do is get mad at you for making yourself look bad.  Imagine that you suddenly realize that all there is to life is to hear the laughter of other kids while you hurt and no one helps you, no matter how much you smile or laugh with them. 

Imagine that you have sleepovers with your teddy bears because no one would want to come to your house anyway.  Imagine that for an exercise in your computer class, you have to make a spreadsheet with the names and ages of your 10 best friends, and you have to use the names of your cousins from both sides of your family just to make up the difference. 

Imagine that it’s like this every single day.  Imagine that you start dreaming of ways to commit suicide.  Imagine that this goes on for more than a year; more than two; more than three.  Imagine that every day of your teenage life is like this.

What do you do?

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~ by lastcrazyhorn on February 12, 2008.

47 Responses to “Imagine This (A Narrative on Bullying)”

  1. Dear Lastcrazyhorn – You have me in tears!!! My GS is having plastic surgery on his ears so if there are any issues that cause teasing when he is older…Dumbo won’t be one of them. Still can’t stop the tears! I don’t know what I’d say or do, but if my GS is hurt that much, I hope I will be old enough to be gone…my heart would break!

  2. Dang, Ma’am. I thank The Lord, or my lucky stars, or whatever, that I was a kid in the fifties and sixties and went to schools that were about 50% Jewish. Nerdiness was no big deal. I didn’t have much social life, those guys not letting a gentile hang out with them, but I only got jumped and beaten upon once, on the way home from school in the fifth grade.

  3. Yeah, but if he told you about it, you’d be sure to do something, right?

  4. I don’t think the years would have mattered much. I’ve talked to other aspies who have had similar experiences. Not everything in this post happened to me specifically, but most of it did. And that which did not was stuff I saw happen to others.

  5. I don’t have to imagine that – you just described my son’s middle school years to a tee. It was hell to the nth degree. And as a parent, it broke my heart and had me raging and helpless all at once.I felt like I was wrestling with jello – everytime we addressed one problem, three others would crop up. At home he was perfectly content and didn’t exhibit the kinds of behavior that his teachers described (which indicated to me that the school was the problem, not my child). How he got through those years emotionally intact is a miracle and a testament to his fortitude.

    I hope that someone in your life recognises that strength in you too, lastcrazyhorn.

    You made me cry too….gentle hugs

  6. I am a mess of mixed emotions at the moment. On one hand, I am extremely saddened, because your post is really hitting home with me and the things that are going on with my son. And he’s six years old!

    On the other hand, I am raging pissed off right now, because of the very same thing. I have gone to the principal, the director of special education, the superintendent…nobody is putting a stop to the bullying my son is receiving, directly or indirectly. They’ve now gotten to the point where they’re saying “his homelife must be unstable because we’re not doing anything wrong”. My ass. By not doing anything about the school environment, is allowing this mistreatment to continue. At the moment, I am looking into other schools, with a hopefully more supportive environment. the minute I find one, I’m pulling him out and starting him there. Wherever that is.

  7. Variations of this post have been happening to me since I was 6, but more frequently since I was 9 and up.

    I’m with you. Transfer as soon as possible.

  8. This is exactly the scenario I expect for my son next year when he hits junior high. And you have absolutely laid out the way it will unfold vis a vis the teachers, staff and students. They have assured us that he would be great when he hit junior high. But we know better. So….how can we get him ready for this??? Please. Tell me.

  9. Tell him that if he spends all day scared, then there’s something wrong and he should tell you. Tell him that if anyone hurts him, it’s not his fault and that he should tell you or a teacher (if you all can trust them).

    Tell him that if the kids around him are always laughing, but no one will tell him the joke, for him not to talk to them and to stay away from them as much as possible.

    They say that individualized sports are good for aspies, since it’s those team situations that get us into trouble. If he can get interested in any sports, any kind of group–band, chorus, math–then he’ll be safer and there’s a chance that some of the teachers will stand up for him if he’s part of their organization. Track, swimming . . . something. Or get him into karate. Let those kids know from the beginning that even though he might be a little different, he’s not to be trifled with.

    Meet the principal early on; meet the counseling center early on; get their policy on bullying, get it in writing and have someone sign it–preferably the main counselor and the principal–and find out what they in extreme situations . . . and let them know that if your kid gets hurt, you’re not going to be one of those parents that just turns a blind eye to it, you’re going to fight for your kid and you’re not going to allow any kind of crap to happen. Bring up IDEA and tell them that you are fully aware of your rights and the rights of your kid . . .

  10. wow, echo the mixed feelings. Saddened that other people went through this, but solidarity as with a fellow survivor.

  11. You are so very close to the truth – the most sense I have read in a long time. Being isolated when among others is the hardest of all. From experiences such as yours I refuse to acknowledge social groups. Physical sports were hell. I too know the bafflement of being ignored when going to teachers for help, and I could never generate the correct words. I wish I could have fought back – this was impossible for me, as if I was swimming in syrup. You are so bright and sound so lovely….I’ve a crush on you already! Thanks for the link, I’ll ditto.

  12. Wow. That *was* me. Details different, but essence the same.

    This is one of the reasons i am never going to have kids – because, if i did have a son/daughter, and this kind of thing happened to them, i’d almost certainly actually kill the kids who did it to him/her. And if my son/daughter was the one doing that to someone else… that doesn’t even bear thinking about.

    And sport, of any kind, has NO place in schools, *whatsoever*. Don’t even start me on that.

    I really need to finish that post i wrote most of a couple of months ago about disability and education…

  13. I was talking to someone about my school expereinces the other day. Mostly I was left alone. I know kids talked, I know they probably tried to do things to me, but considering I had made up my mind that they were all idiots in the 1st grade, I rather just pretended they didn’t exist. My main saving grace was when the majority of those doing the bullying realized that if they behaved and ignored me, I would, when they really needed it, help them prep for an exam or some such thing. The only requirement was that they leave me alone inbetween times of needing assistance. It worked. I didn’t want them as friends. I didn’t feel any loss not having social interactions in schools, I had the ones I wanted with peope who respected me, outside of school with my dog friends (who were all adults). And I missed the majority of the torture on the bus thing by being within walking distance of school for 6 years. But from what I have heard, my experiences were rathr rare.

  14. I didn’t realize how much pain from my past I’ve buried. After reading your narrative on bullying, all those years of tears resurface. I’m too angry now to cry anymore. It’s a shame it took me so many years to figure out things that should have been obvious.

    Without the awareness of the existence of Aspergers and how different neurotypical people think, very little made sense. I was always made to feel that everything bad that happened was my fault somehow.

    I thank God my way of thinking changed after I became a mother! But that change was nothing compared to when I learned about Asperger’s Syndrome!

    I also thank God for His wisdom that guided me to remove my son out of public school and to home school him before he got seriously injured from the bullying that was beginning to take place in elementary school.

    It has become obvious to me that government-run school systems do not want to face this issue and I doubt they ever will because they have no clue about how to handle this very real problem!

  15. I’m a middle school girl with AS, but I don’t live like this. This story doesn’t bring me to tears or remind me of my own life, but rather wonder why a girl like that isn’t even trying.

    If this were happening to someone, then you know what she should do? I shouldn’t weep and complain to adults. She should fight her own battles. She needs to learn how to communicate with people (in THEIR “language”) or this will go on until she’s dead.

    She will need to learn exactly how to fit in, and get social skills. It’s not that hard. She must be quiet about her obsessions when others are around, and learn to conform. It’s how you survive in this world, and it’s a fair price to pay if it means the bullying will stop.

    And if the bullying stops, then the trouble will stop. The hatred will stop; the self-cutting, suicidal thoughts, therapy, anger, and pain will stop. The kids will stop hating her because she doesn’t act like a loser anymore. It will be a happy ending for everyone.

    Just my two cents.

  16. For Selo – the kid in this story tried everything she could. What’s someone supposed to do when they’ve tried everything they know to try and people still act like that? She didn’t know that they didn’t speak the same language. Even if she had known, then she didn’t have any access to their language/any way to learn.

    Every time she fights back, she is overwhelmed by the overpowering strength of kids who are stronger than her. This kid has the potential to grow up to be a high-functioning aspie, but at the moment, this kid is not quite that advanced. Everything she says is wrong, everything she does is wrong and there’s not a soul in her life who believes in her or lets her know that she can do it, that she can survive. Every adult she meets tells her what’s wrong about herself and every kid either actively hurts her or ignores her.

    Sorry, but I don’t see how she is supposed to be able to try or learn anymore. I think she has done that until there is nothing left.

  17. And one other thing; what’s your definition of a loser?

  18. I would be careful Selo… one day you’ll wake up and you’ll find out that there is nothing left of you but the act you put on for the world.

    And one thing the girl in this story did, is never betrayed who she was… no matter how despaired she might have got. And the girl who could manage THAT despite everything that went on is no loser… she’s a GIANT!

  19. *applause for Izaak*

  20. From lastcrazyhorn’s comment: Even if she had known, then she didn’t have any access to their language/any way to learn.

    Yes. From my personal experience, even when I did eventually figure out that other kids were speaking a completely different dialect from me, I had no idea how to effectively speak theirs… and when I tried, clearly something ended up getting lost in translation.

    And then there were the times I’ve been taken advantage of by people who I thought were on friendly terms. Even when I tried my best to be friendly to them. Even when there was no laughing behind my back that I was aware of.

    And my experience was nowhere near as traumatic as that described in the post… yet I had enough troublesome experiences that I could very well sympathize.

  21. You learn. You learn how to blend in, even if you
    can’t fit in. You keep quiet. Yes, this means losing
    out on a lot of socialization experience, which will
    hobble you later, but survival is more important, and
    this is a test of survival. Learn the safe way to
    think of other people… dangerous, unpredictable,
    possibly even physically violent, so learn to be
    careful, and learn to expect it and how to avoid it.
    Learn not to give anyone too much credit, without at
    least a little proof that it’s deserved. Watch them.
    Most of the things that they do will be
    incomprehensible, but there *are* patterns there,
    believe me, patterns that most of them don’t even
    realize that they make. Learn to use them, they will
    show you who is worth your time and energy to interact
    with, and who should be avoided with stealth, and who
    should be avoided by any means necessary. Accept that
    there will be many, many more of the latter two types
    than the first type. Treasure those of the first type
    as the diamonds that they are. The mantle of outcast
    is a hard one to take up, but in can be a shield if
    you learn how to use it properly, against the
    dangerous ones. As much as you can, cultivate faith in
    yourself. Look to the future…that can sustain you
    when there is nothing in the present to do so. It
    *will* get better. These people are your world, right
    now, but in only a few years, you will be in a
    position to never see any of them again, if you
    choose. Remember that this is temporary. Most of all,
    remember that *they* are the half-blind ones, who
    cannot see who you really are. Don’t take them too
    seriously. Don’t be afraid to stand up for yourself,
    if you really need to, but only when it is safe, and
    not too often, because constant noise gets tuned out.
    Sometimes, it’s smart to be silent until a situation
    is obviously insane; your silence will add contrast to
    the situation when you do talk. But most importantly,
    know yourself, understand yourself, know and trust
    that you *are* a good person, whether or not anyone
    else can see it.

  22. Good point Ann. That’s eventually how I survived . . . except that I don’t look to the future anymore. I just take one day at a time. I start out every morning with these words: “I am not afraid of today.”

  23. I don’t think she tried everything within her power.

    Did she try making friends with people who are similarly outcast like her? Did she take classes in social skills, in real life or online? Did she try and figure out WHY she was so different (the Aspergers)? Did she get therapy or go on medication for her self-hatred and suicidal thoughts? Did she tell her family what was going on? Did she even try to stand up for herself at all?

    And my definition of a “loser” is what other middle schoolers define it as; the same NT kids who you’re setting up to be such sadists here.

    As for what codeman38 said about not understanding how to speak their dialect, this girl must observe and take risks to learn. It may not be easy, but it can be done.

  24. But as of yet, you’re not diagnosed; nor has anyone in your life ever heard that word, let alone know what it means.

    I think you missed something.

  25. ^ No, I saw that, but one doesn’t have to think “maybe I have Aspergers!” to know that there’s something different about them. They can think of a multitude of social anxiety or communication disorders, and chances are someone in your life knows about something like bipolar or ADHD. Any little suspicion is easy to be looked into by a professional.

  26. […] scheduled for next month already, looking toward the change in schools next fall. After I read this thoughtful post, I decided we’d better get prepared even before this year was over (little knowing C.O. would […]

  27. Not if you live in a family that doesn’t talk to mental health professionals. Or if you don’t have the money to. Or if your parents are so used to you that they don’t understand what the big deal is.

  28. Duplicate post

  29. lastcrazyhorn and Izaak, I love what you both said!:

    ———————————————————–

    For Selo – the kid in this story tried everything she could. What’s someone supposed to do when they’ve tried everything they know to try and people still act like that? She didn’t know that they didn’t speak the same language. Even if she had known, then she didn’t have any access to their language/any way to learn.

    Every time she fights back, she is overwhelmed by the overpowering strength of kids who are stronger than her. This kid has the potential to grow up to be a high-functioning aspie, but at the moment, this kid is not quite that advanced. Everything she says is wrong, everything she does is wrong and there’s not a soul in her life who believes in her or lets her know that she can do it, that she can survive. Every adult she meets tells her what’s wrong about herself and every kid either actively hurts her or ignores her.

    Sorry, but I don’t see how she is supposed to be able to try or learn anymore. I think she has done that until there is nothing left.

    And one other thing; what’s your definition of a loser?

    I would be careful Selo… one day you’ll wake up and you’ll find out that there is nothing left of you but the act you put on for the world.

    ———————————————————–

    And one thing the girl in this story did, is never betrayed who she was… no matter how despaired she might have got. And the girl who could manage THAT despite everything that went on is no loser… she’s a GIANT!

    Not if you live in a family that doesn’t talk to mental health professionals. Or if you don’t have the money to. Or if your parents are so used to you that they don’t understand what the big deal is.

    ————————————————————–

    Those things above couldn’t have been said better! Thanks for commenting!

  30. @lastcrazyhorn: If she really has no way to figure out exactly WHAT is wrong with her, she at least knows she’s different, and she should get up and learn to fit in. It’s not that hard, and she could do it just by watching.

    Also, did she even say a word to her family about the bullying? At the very least they could try to make it better for her.

    Really, everyone just needs some way to conform. Is she really that much of a crybaby that she doesn’t do jack about the fact that people don’t like her?

  31. And in exhibit A, we have Selo, who is an excellent example of Baron-Cohen’s theory about autistics and Theory of Mind . . . recent studies, however(think Tager-Flusberg 2007 here), have shown that this theory doesn’t hold as much water in relation to higher functioning aspies . . .

  32. selo, your ignorance shows. How do you know that I didn’t say anything to my family about the bullying? You are making soooo many assumptions about me… just like most people do. Is it any wonder I don’t WANT to fit in? It would be like wanting to jump in to a cesspool for a swim. Maybe to everyone else, they may enjoy the social scene because it’s where they belong. But you have no clue how differently I think and yet you think you can figure me out.

    Your words reflect you well. I don’t need to say more.

  33. Pardon me selo. There is one more thing I’d like to add. If I’m the crybaby, then what are you doing crying about me? I am flattered though that you think I’m God and that I can control what other people think. Besides, there are some people who actually do like me and those are the people who seem to be less judgmental. Most important though of all is that I finally like myself and no scum is going to change than anymore, not even you.

  34. Selo talks crap. Things ain’t so clear cut way back then, terrible forces are impinging on the poor suffering child. Horrible dynamics. Its like a big sticky web you cannot get out of. We/I/she tries to operaste logic yet the protagonists behave without logic, reason or basic human decency.

  35. sheila, I’m talking about the girl in this blog story, not you personally.

  36. selo, Thank you for clarifying you didn’t mean me personally. I guess you can see how easily comments can be taken the wrong way?

  37. […] we’ve had where I felt like everything we said was heard. I had copies of blog entries from lastcrazyhorn and Asperger Square 8 in hand, having sent them by email earlier as well. (Only one person had […]

  38. […] words for all of us with children from someone who’s been that kid. lastcrazyhorn presents Imagine This (A Narrative on Bullying); posted at Odd One […]

  39. I can imagine it. Change a few details and it is my story too. I keep on going because even with all of the hard things, life is very important to me. There are people who I love and things I love to do.

    When I was younger, the main thing that kept me going was that I knew that if I killed myself, my family would be very sad. I couldn’t really stand to think about that. Thanks to all the autism education and awareness happening these days, I think that the next generation of aspies might have a better chance of getting the help they need, rather than being treated badly by just about everyone.

  40. Selo,
    Why change yourself to befriend people who are cruel and vicious to you? It does not matter if someone is percieved to be a “loser,” that is no excuse for being cruel to them. By average middle school standards, many of history’s most fascinating and brilliant people were “losers.” Percy Shelley, one of the greatest poets in the English language, was tormented at his school because his clasmates thought he was “weird”, “awkward”, and “feminine”. A person does not live with middle schoolers for the rest of their lives. As you grow older, you have more choice of who you interact with; a wider range to choose from. There will be people who appreciate you and you them, as you are.

  41. […] who does not understand and follow the rules. A while back I read a post by lastcrazyhorn called Imagine This (A Narrative on Bullying). It was amazing how close this post described my own experience with bullying from first grade […]

  42. Selo, I’m not going to pontificate all the reasons you and your kind disgust me, because you people and your assumptions and horrific blame-the-victim tactics are not worth my time. All I will say to you is: I refuse to allow you to hurt me anymore.

  43. that has happened to me when i first moved schools, one day i just snapped and fucked every kid up, about 6 of them came at me and i put 3 in hospital, they deserved every bit of it. The bullying stopped right? yeh it did..

    • I hit that point a couple of times later in high school; only problem is, I don’t remember those actual events b/c my mind blacked them out. But hey, as long as one doesn’t get expelled and it’s deserved, I don’t have a problem with it.

  44. I’m convinced the people who resort to this kind of bullying are sociopaths. Children can be cruel, yet parents love to overlook the fact as though it were a meaningless adage made up for the sake of conversing with people.

  45. There is a TV Tropes page that links to it, anyone know which page? I was brought here by TV Tropes, but I can’t find the page in my history.

  46. JFC, and I thought I had it bad. I was bullied quite badly through most of elementary school — I was a poor kid with divorced parents in a school full of rich a**holes, I was always very undersized for my age, and I was a girl with a boy’s name. I’d get kicked, tripped, called all sorts of nasty things, and, since I had very long hair, people would often grab it and try to drag me along with it.

    In fifth grade, I beat the ever-loving sh*t out of the main ringleader, a girl whose total hatred for me I never understood (up until that point). I mean, I *really* beat her up: I almost bit her ear off, and ground her face into the dirt so hard it scarred. I got put in anger management classes, and when asked why I did it, I didn’t know enough to lie: I said she was an a**hole who had been tormenting me since second grade. When asked if I would do it again, I also didn’t know I should lie, so I said yes. This did not go over well. Honestly, I’m not sure how I didn’t get expelled.

    The bullying stopped after that, but it was only because everybody thought I was insane. People would say, “Oh, don’t get too close to Stevie, she’ll kill you.” I wound up having to go eat lunch in the hallway, because nobody wanted me sitting at their table. The isolation was better than the bullying, but the verbal abuse went on — the kids just stayed out of reach when they did it. Halfway through sixth grade, one of the boys who kept taunting me asked if I’d actually meant to kill Shannon, and I just looked him dead in the eye and said, “Yes.” After that I just got ignored, which was a massive relief. I didn’t have any friends, but at least nobody was trying to kick me.

    My reputation was so bad that I had to go to a different junior high than the rest of the kids. Other than that one time, I had never hit or kicked anyone — I hadn’t been a violent kid at all, but after that I was Crazy Stevie. Nobody found out about it in junior high, but when I went to high school, another girl who had been at my elementary school recognized my name, and the story got spread around. Fortunately I had friends, so it didn’t matter too much. However, being “Crazy Stevie” stuck in my psyche, and it really didn’t help me when, at nineteen, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. My first thought was, “Oh, Christ, I really AM Crazy Stevie.”

    I’m on really good medication now, and have a pretty stable (if very quiet) life. But I will never be able to forget being that angry, horribly profane little girl who once wanted nothing more than to hurt the b*tch who had tormented me for so long. I didn’t actually want to *kill* Shannon — if she was dead, she couldn’t suffer. My thought process back then was like a damn serial killer’s. While it might make me a horrible person, I loved how she flinched every time I walked by. I scarred her chin and mangled her ear, and even now, at thirty-seven years old, I’m *glad*. Bullies need punishing, and God knows the adults are useless.

    With situations like this, is it any wonder kids go on shooting rampages at their schools? I would imagine most bullied kids want to make their bullies pay. My stepdaughter broke the nose of a girl who had been verbally abusing her, and when the school called me to complain, all I said was, “Good. Little brat deserved it.” We’d been bringing this problem up to the faculty, time and time again, and of course they did nothing. When the people in charge are useless (and they almost always are), is it any wonder kids think violence is their only option? Because honestly, there is one language bullies speak, and it’s fist to face.

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