In 2016 I will have been out of high school for 40 years. Yet in spite of the decades that have seemingly flew by, the residual effects of those years continue to manifest themselves in my life.
As I had mentioned last time, fear has been a lifelong companion. It has colored relationships, work, education, and in general how I see myself. I have come to the understanding that the tap-root for this weed of fear is anchored in my interaction with those of my peers some 40+ years ago. It was their attitudes, and words directed at me that have shaped my inner spirit for so many years.
I cannot stress enough how bullying in any way, shape, or form literally kills the spirit within a child/teen. I also cannot stress enough how long it takes to recover from such wounding..
I began to experience bullying around the sixth grade. Being a shy, introverted kid with NO athletic ability did not help. It started with words, and then sometimes physical pushing or hitting. But even if there had never a time when I was hit, the words and the mocking alone damaged me almost beyond repair. Children/teens can be brutal in their assaults. As a result confidence, self-love and acceptance, self-worth, and the ability to believe in myself were ripped away from me like layers of skin, and I was left an emotionally bloody mess,
And no one, it appeared me, cared.
There was not parental, or school administrative interventions. I withdraw more and more into a cocoon constructed not of a web of silk but rather a web of emotional pain and rejection.
I believed the taunts of those that said I was stupid, broken, dumb, and a reject.
My heart was never at peace, never at rest. It was always on guard for the next verbal attack.
So today, some 40 years later I try desperately to heal, to move forward, to live life as me. But many times the ghosts of the past whisper in my ear to remember my place, to remember that I am nothing, and can do nothing. And then I slip into the default mode of my youth I withdraw, procrastinate, avoid conflict, run in fear, question my abilities, and strengths. And finally remember my place, as the spectral chants envelop me as in a thick fog and I agree with them for a moment, a day, a week, a month, forty years. I am inferior to the rest of humanity. But I am tired of this wilderness wandering
O God! Rescue me from me, so that I can love ME, the me you created me to be, and to create the things that I am still meant to create before it is too late.
2 thoughts on “Bullied Into The Wilderness”
…………… (silence and a proverbial arm about the shoulder) it is the only appropriate response….. I know because I experienced similar things and similar results…. I am also still waiting for the healing….. and waiting …. and waiting….. (We live out our lives on Holy Saturday. the battle is over but the victory ain’t won yet, either.)
Thank you for your kind comments. I am sorry that you have had to experience the pain as well. Healing takes long and I do not ever think the wounds are ever gone. Scabbed over perhaps but that does not mean the hurt is gone. I pray for you. Peace