I was also picked on on the bus in 7th grade. It made me not want to go to school. When I went away to school, I was picked on there, too - at least for a bit.
In college, there was bullying, but it was more indirect than the other times. It was focused on a number of people, including me.
I was almost always the misfit, the outsider. As I look back, I just never fit in. Nothing about me ever did. Not my temperament, my demeanor, what I did/didn't do, how I looked. At some point in high school I seemed to be liked - but always at a distance.
I am grateful I did not have to deal with the cell phone/youtube/video/shaming world we seem to live in today. I am not sure I could have handled it. As it was, I barely managed most times with how things were.
Even as an adult, I have often felt like the self-conscious outsider. Ironically, I often felt when younger that guys weren't interested in me because they did not think me attractive. As an adult, I was told I was attractive, but I still found my self alone. Someone once told me it is the Beautiful Woman Syndrome - that guys were intimidated by beautiful women. If it is anything like that...definite irony. And, either way, I still often very much was alone.
I used to be in it's a "not fair" place. I think I have transitioned from there to a place of being resigned. I had been in that place several years ago, only to have a few guys show up - only to disappear on me. Each one more significant, intense - and ultimately heartbreaking.
I really do not know what I think, believe, or want any more. A part of me is beyond tired and disappointed. It is exhausting never fitting in. And right now in my life instead of being bullied (although there are times that still does happen) I find myself feeling invisible. It is a very different thing than being bullied. At least people are paying attention to you. Sadly, though, it is for all the "wrong" and abusive reasons.
Not sure why all these thoughts are crossing my mind...but maybe I am trying to sort through "stuff." A part of me thinks I am giving ammo to those who will sit back and judge me or my life or what is going on with me. "Oh, that's why..."
Another part of me just sighs, and goes "oh well."
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