2. Bullies Unite

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.” – William Shakespeare

The first day of high school (11 years old) was exciting and also a little scary, you’re split from most of your friends and divided into new groups. I wasn’t an introvert at that point, but I did have mild shyness and certainly hadn’t developed any social anxiety. It didn’t take long for me to pick out the kids that ‘got me’ and just like that I made new friends. Things were fine for the first year, insomuch that bullying wasn’t really a thing yet and the kids were again trying to find their standing, but when there are kids 5 years older than you in the school it takes a little more time.

You did what now…

In my first year I had a small accident involving a tree and my brother (he’ll have his own article don’t worry) which resulted in two broken arms, two completely closed eyes effectively making me blind, a lump on my head the size of well… my head and various cuts and bruises. This happened because I was showing off to a girl in a bus stop (I was 11) by hanging from a tree branch high up, sadly the tree has been cut down now but I’ve highlighted where it used to be.

The reason for the accident was that my brother held onto my hand as I attempted to drop from the tree, causing me to spin in place; as well the tree unfortunately was not growing straight up but at a slant. I began an uncontrolled fall when my brother released my hand, and then I effectively stopped my fall with my arms and face on the side of the tree trunk. Although this incident was damaging, embarrassing (the girl saw the whole thing) and extremely painful it did have one unexpected outcome, I was suddenly popular in school. Everyone was talking about me, as I wandered the school hallways after being off for a few weeks because let’s be honest, you don’t see a kid with both arms in casts and a face like he’d done a couple of rounds with a professional boxer every day. Everyone was interested, everyone wanted to hear the story, but sadly the fame didn’t last as long as I’d like.

Smoking stunts your growth…

My first year in high school was also the time when we moved house, we actually bought a shop and lived above it. With this I had access to cigarettes because, not only did both my parents smoke, we actually sold them downstairs. Stealing them was simple enough, sneak down in the night and grab a packet, and yes I was caught often. If it wasn’t my brother telling my parents (again we’ll get to him) or just flat out stealing them from me, it was my Dad sneaking downstairs as I wasn’t the silent ninja I believed I was, damn squeaky floorboards. The punishments for such things escalated over time as you can imagine, from small back handed slaps to the face as a very young child to full on ear-ringing cracks to the head. These violent acts always preceded a good old grounding for a week or two. I began at this point a smoking club where my friends and I would smoke in secret, usually down on the railways where I would usually supply the ‘gear’. By the age of 12 there was so many of us smoking in school, it became somewhat of an epidemic and teachers were always on the prowl to catch us.

I can give up when I want…

This for me was the beginning of my addictive nature and substance abuse. I just wanted to be cool so much, and I knew that being intelligent was not cool in the eyes of my peers. I will state that I did not at any time steal cigarettes for other people, I shared, but I never stole for them. People would always joke that ‘smoking stunts your growth’ as a passive aggressive comment, I just had to wear that and know the ship had already sailed on my height, I was about 4ft 3in at this point, or 129.54 cm, so very small for my age. (Spoiler alert, I got taller).

Bullies had time to regroup…

I’d got off lightly in the first year from bullying, but then all the bullies from various primary schools had created their own pecking order and started dishing out grief to us all in high school. You could always argue, ‘once a bully, always a bully’ but these kids are still carrying that emotional baggage in their own lives and are venting the way they know best. At best a kid who bullies needs counselling, and at worst needs to be strictly controlled. Bullies are one of the most destructive elements in a child’s nurturing stage and should be removed from the equation to prevent collateral damage to others.

I honestly couldn’t tell you how many people were bullying me at this point, but it was persistent and grew from the primary school unsophisticated name-calling, to full on violence and control. Every action I made and every subservient gesture I did was to control the situation, I would literally stand there whilst being called names, goaded and embarrassed, what choice did I have?

The only thing that saved me during this time was my outthinking the bullies, making sure they believed they’d won; the act of submission and being their, for all intents and purposes, plaything.

I do have a temper…

I’m the kind of person who bottles up everything inside and unfortunately lets everything out in a very explosive manner. I’d been bottling up being bullied for a good 8 years now and the bottle was under such strain, I’m surprised I’m not in some detention centre somewhere, everyone has a breaking point. As is usually the norm, I started bullying the kids who were under me in the order of things, as a way to be accepted from the people above me in the social pecking order. I never, however, bullied someone religiously and never overly; but I do regret that, to this day and more than you will ever know, I still remember all their faces. My bullying would go as far as calling someone fat or just laughing at them whilst my peers annoyed them, I wasn’t a good bully, but a bully nonetheless.

Some acts of aggression started to unfold at this point as I’m sure my emotional state was at breaking point. I remember vividly throwing a punch at a kid in the food line because he tried to push me, I missed him by about a cm thankfully, as the kid ran away screaming (he actually did).

What did you just do?

The aforementioned violence escalated in one event that I believe deserves its own section due to the act and the repercussion.

I was an actor in school, I loved to act. I was in Pirates of the Penzance, Bugsy Malone and various other plays and musicals. I enjoyed trying to be somebody else, anything was better than this reality right?

In the dressing room which was the gym changing rooms before a show, a big lad (really big compared to me) decided to make comments over my size. He wouldn’t stop and everyone was looking at how I would react, which is the time you don’t actually want to be famous in acting. I had many options at this point as this huge lad squared up to me, fight or flight? I fought. I turned around to face away from him, drew my fist back, turned back and punched him square in the chest. The scariest moment of my life then occurred as his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he just fell over backwards.

I just ran…

Down corridor after corridor to find a teacher, I found one and made him run back to the changing rooms, the guy was being dragged off the floor when we entered and he looked drunk at best or smacked off his tits at worst. Prison rules protected me that day, as nobody said anything apart from he just fainted.

I may be short but I’m not skinny; I’m built, as we would say in the UK, like a ‘brick shit house’. I have a 42 inch chest or 106cm so I have a little power in me. That was the time I vowed never to punch someone again. Spoiler alert, that vow was made under extenuating circumstances and the story is far from finished.

The Big Fight   

I have no idea how it started but this kid wanted a fight. I didn’t want a fight as I’d almost killed a kid with a punch, and I was feeling very self-aware about what happened. It started in the science block where I was ‘offered out’, which means you fight or you’re a dick. I was in detention that evening for German lessons (still not applying myself). I was worried, nigh on scared of, having to go back down this road but they came looking for me. They literally sent a lad to all the classrooms on the first floor to find me, when I saw him pop his face through the door and look at me, I was so scared. They were waiting for me outside.

I walked outside and there was about 6 lads waiting for me, I just moved along and the lad I was supposed to fight walked over and gave me one of the weakest punches to the stomach. I believe at this point he also didn’t want to be there and was just showing up for his own peers, at that point I have very limited memory.

Stuff just got real…   

I remember suddenly being in the admin office of the school just slurring ‘I want my Mum’ and lots of people on phones (pre-mobile/cell phones. Then I remember being in the car driving fast, whilst my Mum was saying ‘you’ll be OK’. Next thing I remember is being told by a doctor that I would have to stay in hospital overnight and I needed stitches. I had a 6 stitches in the back of my head eventually, and I remember looking at my white shirt as they pulled it off, it was supposed to be white but it was just a red shirt.

If the stories are to be believed, I was pushed backwards and I fell over a bag and smacked my head on the concrete. Others said someone threw a rock at my head from behind, with the empirical evidence it suggests someone attacked me from behind, as there were no bags on the ground.

My brother went out looking for him and my Dad went out looking for my brother. It ended with my Dad dragging my brother away from attacking the older brother of my assailant and then they had a meeting in the school. Apparently, the father of the kid stated ‘kids will be kids’ and my Dad lost his shit and stated ‘they were pulling stones out of his fucking head’, and my father is quite an imposing person. It ended with everyone just forgetting it happened. Story of my life.  

Not only did the school not phone an ambulance when a child had been knocked out with blood spewing from his head they refused to accept any responsibility. I hated that school and its keep up the grammar school appearances attitude.

Consistent bullying…   

Things turned up to 11 as I grew through my teens, I’d joined the Army Cadets and was actually very good. I was a sergeant by the end with many awards and was a marksman in 4 different weapons (I’m extraordinarily good at shooting things).

I knew by 13 that I would never be able to get out of this rut, so-called friends even started to try and push me. I remember a time when a kid got his younger brother to start attacking me verbally and physically. It made no sense to me, and I tried to quantify the situation whilst this young kid, with all the bullies watching, was kicking my bag as I was walking. I dropped the bag on the floor, and with a huge intake of breath from the bullies as it looked like I was going to go off. I just turned to the kid and stated ‘what the fuck do you want, you want this?’, his brother ran over to do the accepted thing of attacking me, but he just stood there as he didn’t know what to do, because I was just holding a middle finger up.

It’s all gone wrong…

By this point I was in what I like to call a recursive algorithm state of thinking, as I dealt with smaller things to deal with the greater thing. By this point bullying was non-stop and relentless. I was now the guy to go to for bullying, my name was graffitied over walls calling me a ‘dick’ but they would spell my nick-name wrong, so small victories.

At this point I was bullied daily, groups would call me names, people would single me out and I felt very alone. I started to struggle at this point, but I never imagined things would get as out of control as they did.  

My Emotions

It’s easy to say I was just scared, but I was actually terrified. Nothing was making sense as I was systematically bullied. Everyone had a free shot at me at this point and things escalated quickly. I was torn between feeling lonely, dejected and vulnerable, to feeling angry at everyone. How dare these people think they could understand me and take their piece of the pie. I will never allow someone to take something away from me again, it’s now my life and my decisions, always.  

What would I change?

Honestly? I would have probably become less reactive to their tactics, to just get them off my back, but with a knowledge that I was in control. It can be true that if you just ignore them, they’ll eventually lose interest, but it can be tough to start with.

Any Advice?

Bullies and people who want control answer very easily to subservience and fake levels of submission. I would suggest to myself, take control by giving the appearance of relinquishing control to the people that crave it. I would also approach an impartial third party just so I had someone to speak to, in the UK there’s ‘Childline’. This way you can say as much as you want, but they can’t approach anyone about it, unless you ask. If things are getting truly out of control, like in my case, where it may even push you to suicidal thoughts; I would implore you to speak to either a family member or a professional, such as a counsellor or your doctor.