I have some...guitar thing on repeat. It makes my head feel nice. Ummm...recap? Let's see. KidExplosion is manipulative as well as completely and utterly clueless. How does that work? Heck if I know. I took her Trick-Or-Treating with my friends. She cried at first and I kept hugging her (and getting stage blood all over her jacket...oops). Eventually all of the nice people and their candy made everything better. KidExplosion was a fairy princess (sans wings...we left them. Oops.), PrettyFunny was also a fairy (a magical hooker we decided), C. was in the mafia (but really she, too, looked like a hooker), another C. was a cheerleader and NOT a hooker (but really what is the difference these days?), B. was a pirate (a butt pirate. it's funny, but I am not sure why. I assume it's perverted. we are teenagers after all.), and I was a homicidal clown that seemed to be suffering from internal bleeding (blood pellets are my friends...my very very disgusting friends.). We gave all of our candy to KidExplosion.
PrettyFunny and I had a halloween party. I did not die. Amazing. I was so worried about it the night before. I broke our filter. I was getting really upset about the party and being "Doom and Gloom" as my mother calls me, I was certain that everything would go wrong. Long story short I punched the filter in a moment of anger at my stupidity (for agreeing to having the party). If my mother was angry about it, she never let on. She just told me to relax. Amazing.
I had lots of candy and soda. Hyperactivity ensued. Splee. I had fun until the last twenty minutes. I'd say that is pretty good for a four hour party. I am proud of myself. I even "danced" a bit. Mostly it was: try to mimic the others....run away....come back...repeat. Fun, awkward stuff.
There, all caught up.
When I was a kid, I was picked on pretty relentlessly. I was lucky, most of it was verbal. The violence was pretty sporadic. I had it bad, but the "slow" kids had it much worse. They, for the most part, couldn't even "snitch". Not that I could either. I was so desperate to be liked that I kept quiet. And, once I'd moved back in with my mom, I really didn't want her to know what happened at school. She was already quite depressed. I didn't know how to make her happy...but I figured that keeping certain things to myself would keep her from getting any worse.
What's weird is that the kids usually got caught...but nothing ever happened. The teacher would tell them to leave me alone with little conviction and then pull me aside to say something to the affect of "well, maybe if you weren't so..." or "maybe if you didn't always...". They were trying to help. You know? Trying to give me advice on blending in. But really it just seemed like they were justifying the other kids behavior. I heard "This is YOUR fault for being such a spaz". And, basically, that was what they were getting at. They were just using the whole "tact" thing.
I felt, and still feel, ashamed. Of myself. Because...basically what the teachers were saying was that while the kids that harassed me were technically in the wrong...it was my fault. I was broken. I needed repair. It was never: The bullies are wrong. Plain and Simple. It was always: Well they are doing that because you...etc etc. So...I gradually became more and more nervous around my peers. I became more...into myself and stopped trying to associate with them. The Likewise. I was the Otherwise and therefor did not deserve their friendship.
The message perpetuates itself. You forget yourself one day and try it...The Social. Then you're thrown back in to reality. "I suck I suck I suck." You go home and...your mom tells you that you are weird. She gets so upset with you for not wanting to do things that keep your Normalcy Reading in the green. "Why don't you ever invite anyone over?!" "Because I don't have any friends, Mom", you want to say. But you don't because she's sad. Always sad. Why make it worse? You're already the cause of every other problem that she has.
I hated myself from a young age. I wanted to be prefect. Social butterfly, straight A student, incapable of anger...alas, that is not my reality. I suck at The Social, I get overwhelmed with work and shut down or read over my work and think "This is stupid. You're stupid...throw it away, idiot." and shred shred shred the assignments. Anger? Ha. Constant.
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