The Bully Factor

 

I was watching a you-tuber discuss their transition, and how they started journaling about the decision to do so and realized that in a sense this blog, was my journaling.  And so I want to talk about something, share something I have never addressed. Abuse, bullying and how it sticks with you for life. I also will drop in some random thoughts, things that are tells of my transgenderism. 

So I'm going to list every moment I can think of where abuse/bullying happened to me (or happened to someone else and impacted me in ways I don't even know).

When we lived in Arkansas a kid beat me up on the playground for being different.

Another time at a parents/teachers night my parents inside I was cornered outside in the dark by two older boys, while a 3rd repeatedly punched me in the gut. 

I was corporal punished by my teachers, taken into a backroom and spanked with a wooden paddle for not following instructions properly. I wanted to be with the girls, and didn't follow instructions given to the boys. Another time for writing my name Michelle and not Michael and asking why to many times.

I was thrown against a wall (lifted off the ground) by a teacher for playing loudly in the hallway at Brattain elementary and threatened with harm. 

At the bottom of the hill where I lived was a much older boy, who repeatedly, taunted me, threatened me, harassed me and beat me when he could catch me. This went on for years. I still think about this guy.

In junior high, all separate occasions I was punched in the legs (knuckle punches) so I couldn't walk. I was hit in the mouth almost biting a hole in my tongue. I was knuckle punched on the top of my head, getting a concussion. My father went to the school on this one, cause this time I couldn't hide that I was sick..and throwing up from it.  

In high school the kid down the hill continued to harass me. I attended school and hid from others that threatened me, others chased me, I was an outcast, and hid in the English department, or the library for 4 years. I never ate lunch, so was skinny. 

most days i smelled like cigarettes, not because I smoked them but because my mother, a working alcoholic smoked in the house.  

At school I coped, I didn't understand much, read a lot of books, hiding from my reality, and I tried to hide in plain sight, and out of sight. There were days when I would throw up bile because I didn't have anything in my stomach.

My favorite time of the day was when the bell would ring. I would walk (run) home not even waiting for the bus. my home was about 3 miles from the school. I just wanted to get out of there. when I would get home I would search for anything to eat. sometimes making a box cake or eggnog, or what ever, just to get something in my stomach and fall asleep.

I never went to school dances, the prom or any of that. I just didn't belong. Counselors never talked to me about college, to be real I was a ghost.  

I liked to wear corduroy velvety pants. they felt good and only thing I would wear. everyone wore 501's or painters pants.

I had some friends. One friend would come over and get me drunk, or we would raid my mothers Canadian mist hard liqueur. the rule was we couldn't not throw up. 

in my 2nd year of high school, I was at the mall waiting for my mother to get off work and I ran into another kid who told me he was going to bring a gun to school and kill himself. I didn't believe him and cautioned him against doing anything like that. school came and then there was the emergency. Someone had a gun, had a class hostage. we were all told to stay put.  Later I heard that the kid navigated his way, surrounded by police into the bathroom, where he killed himself.  I've only told a few people about this. 

OK so what do I make of all of this

First I never processed any of this...but buried it. Assumed it was just a @#%#% adolescence. In a crappy logging town. 

Second Journaling is a way of healing.  

I will acknowledged in all that..there were a lot of times where life just happened, no bullying, nothing, just living, growing up, doing kid stuff. it wasn't all bad. Jr. High and High school though sucked for me. Period.

Did the bullying make me transgender. No. was I bullied because I AM Transgender. Yeah probably. I was different and when you are different you get a bullseye painted on you as being "Weak" or "Different" or "Uncool" or an easy mark to be put down. 

Everything I'm sharing here is true. All Events Happened. My home town Sucks. Its the reason I will never live there, and the reason I don't care to ever go to a reunion. F them all.

So what if I had been left alone, loved, popular, accepted, allowed to co-exist? imagine that.