Everybody is talking about Jimmy Savile. Because of this I’ve elected not to give that odious perversion of a human being any more attention than he’s already getting, so… moving swiftly on…
Although, having said the above, the tragic suicide of a fifteen-year-old Canadian teenager just six days ago was caused by a monster just like him. The difference? Amanda’s reason for suicide used the internet to degrade her and ruin her life:
RIP Amanda Todd, you beautiful girl. How awful that somebody out there took your trust and your naivety and used them against you in such a terrible way.
I, too, have been the victim of bullying – and, even though it seemed as though the world was ending at the time, I feel that I got off lightly. There was no internet or mobile phone back then. Nobody could send me threatening emails and texts. Within my own home I was safe; I could hide.
However, being able to go home in the knowledge that the bullies could do nothing to me outside of school hours didn’t mean that I didn’t suffer emotionally.
The reasons for my bullying? I was bookish – a “swot” who wanted to learn. I was undiagnosed autistic so I was always “the weird kid”. I had naturally blonde hair, blue eyes and high cheekbones, and so other girls would call me “ugly” (which – looking back – I realise that I most certainly was not). I was a geek who liked Doctor Who, Star Trek and computers, and disliked “girl stuff”. I excelled at swimming, hockey and basketball, as well as academic subjects such as English, history and religious education.
So how did the bullying affect me?
The short answer to that is badly. I dreaded going to school and would fake illness as often as I thought I could get away with it. I cried myself to sleep most weeknights, and became wary of the few friends I actually had.
I mutilated all of my pretty dolls by chopping off their hair and drawing scars and injuries on their faces. I’d cut their clothing into rags, to simulate the hand-me-downs that I always had to wear.
I would smear my dressing table mirror with Nivea Cream so that I only had a hazy reflection of my face. I would often think about disfiguring myself and self-harming, because I thought people wouldn’t pick on me if an injury was the cause of my perceived ugliness.
Sometimes I would get a pair of tights and wrap them tight around my throat, but I was never brave enough to choke myself as I’d intended.
I married the first man who asked me, because I truly believed that nobody else could possibly want me. After my inevitable divorce I sought validation through sex; I thought that, if I were sexually desirable to most men, that would mean that I could move on.
Of course, I was wrong. I’ve had far more lovers than I’ve experienced actual love.
I basically abused my body with cigarettes and alcohol. I became anorexic because I thought I was fat.
Do I still suffer?
Yes, I do. I have very low self-esteem and dislike leaving the house in case somebody picks on me. I know that this won’t happen where I live now, but large groups of teenagers still frighten me and I hate walking past them. It isn’t their fault – it’s the fault of teenagers who made my life hell when I was fifteen.
I was too frightened to go on to further education, and my family needed me to work anyway because money was tight. Too many of my bullies were going to college and I just wanted to strike out on my own.
Bullying didn’t exactly ruin my life – it brought me to where I am now in many ways – but it certainly didn’t enhance it.
What would I say to bullies now?
Bullying can change the course of a victim’s life. It isn’t funny and it isn’t clever.
One of your victims could become the next Amanda Todd.
Think about it.
I actually have a post scheduled tomorrow on the same topic but as the parent of someone who was bullied also for being bright and wanting to learn, i take a slightly different angle on a few issues around bullying aswell you will have to let me know what you think
I’ll look forward to it Paula – although I’m sorry that your child had to go through it too.
It did not last for long my daughter was luckier than many in that she had a mum that was not afraid to scream the roof down to get it dealt with (the final visit I may have even been a bully technically as I reduced the head teacher to tears but it was only with a few unpalitable home truths about her abilities)
Poor girl… I really really feel for her. I hope the bastards that tormented her are sorry for what they’ve done though a part of me doubts it.
I’ve been a victim of bullying several times (from playgroup, through Primary and Secondary School, college and even in a couple of jobs). It got so bad I took an overdose in school and when working I self-harmed – people say why but when you get to that situation you’re desperate. I think it has definitely had an affect on me – I find it hard to trust people and I don’t like getting close to people.
If I had something to say to bullies it would be – ‘put yourself in your victims shoes for one day and see how you like it’
You’ve actually opened up to me about this before. Thank you so much for trusting me enough to confide and get close.
I genuinely think that you have to be a victim to fully understand what this poor girl did.
It broke my heart it really did… I just wanted to give her a massive hug and say ‘you can get through it’.
I know we have talked about this before , I was bullied at school and it still affects me to this day. I wrote a post on the subject.The post I wrote was the first time that I really addressed the subject and the pain it had caused me. I really feel for Amanda Todd and I wish all bullies could see the harm and pain they cause. So to all the, women as they will be now , who bullied me what good did it do you . I am still alive, As to Amanda’s tormentors look what you have done are you proud?
The real tragedy is that they probably *are* proud of what they did to Amanda. It’s only in later life that the results of their actions will hit them with the impact of Thor’s Hammer.
I used to see one of my ex-bullies in my favourite pub all the time. I decided that I was going to face her down if she dared to say anything to me – and then I started to notice that she always looked very uncomfortable when I was around, even if I was alone. I changed my tack after that; I simply made sure that I always sat where she could see me and would either stare at her if she came by or pretend she wasn’t there. It was my way of saying “Look at me! I’ve got friends, a job, good clothes and a nice haircut. I survived your evil and I’m enjoying that you look and smell like something the cat dragged in”.
She was one of the people who had made me consider suicide. Watching her discomfort and seeing the guilt all over her face was the best medicine for me – and I didn’t even have to *say* anything
I have never been brave enough to even be in the same room as those who bullied me. I do admire you for being so cool about it ! I do agree that parents, grandparents older siblings ect as well a teachers and any involved adult must be more aware of the harm bullying can cause and the dreadful lengths these bullies will go to!
In this case, I had been a regular at that pub for years. All the regulars knew me and my best friend – my Soul Brother – had been a popular figure at our school. I was on safe territory and nobody would have allowed her to start on me.
I guess she’d faced her own bullies over the years, as all the life and spark and meanness was gone from her eyes. However, even I’m not kind enough to pity someone who made me want to die – and so I was happy to point her out to people and laugh at her appearance where she could hear that we were laughing at and talking about *her*.
I wanted her to know what she’d done to me, and experience it threefold. I didn’t bully her; I just showed up in her face every time she visited that pub and I didn’t cower from her. I never once said a word to her – her actions in the past were her own undoing.
She stopped drinking at that pub after a while… can’t think why
Thank you for writing this, and to you and other commenters I’d also like to give a virtual Jedi hug because I’ve had the experience of sustained bullying both as a child at school and as an adult in the workplace.
I could probably fill the comment with a post of my own, as this strikes such a chord. But I just wanted to send appreciation and regard to all those who have had the courage to say something.
You can never have enough Jedi hugs – thank you!
Over the years I would occasionally run into my ex-bullies and so I have seen Karma in action. The ones that never apologised have apparently grown old before their time, become Crazy Cat Ladies who stink of wee (seriously!), become single mothers who don’t always know who fathered the child (again, I am not joking) or just generally look as though they’ve had a rough adult life.
Those that eventually came forward and confessed that they didn’t realise what their “jokes” were doing to me and have apologised? Great lives, great jobs, happily married with wonderful kids.
So much of your post resonates with me badly.
I developed social anxiety thanks to the shitters at my school. I WAS the Carrie White of the place, the scapegoat, the butt of the joke.
I nearly ended my life when I was 14. But I survived. And it was partially because of Stephen King’s Carrie, the story that taught me that I didn’t have to take it. That I could if i wanted, send ‘em to hell.
So it was only fitting that in the end i changed my name and took on the self proclaimed Outsider Queen title
I’m PROUD to be the outsider now.
And the bullies? Criminals, drug addicts…eeyup.
I rest my case.
Carrie
Outsider Queen Carrie V
I first picked up that book when I was 15 – and it inspired me to keep on fighting too. Okay, so I couldn’t wreak vengeance in the way she did, but I *could* knowingly use some of my autistic behaviours to freak the bullies out.
My bullies now? Bums, druggies, alchies, single mums, miserable beyond measure… you get the idea.
Karma is a bitch, and she gives back whatever you dish out threefold.
Thank you, thank you, thank you…for speaking out…I was bullied as well…but there is the other end of the stick…how can we reach out to those who bully?…why do they do it?…how can we help them?…how do we get to the root cause?
Be encouraged!
That’s truly the initial problem isn’t it? Do they feel inadequate somehow? Are other people threatening them with harm if they don’t join in with bullying the uncool kid? Are they just plain dirt mean?
So many reasons, it’s hard to know what drives them.
You are right…there are no easy answers…and what becomes of those who bully?…do they grow out of it?…is it just a phase?…do they run for Congress?…do they end up in prison?…do they change?…are they capable of change?…do they “know” they are doing wrong?…what do they do when they are parents?
Be encouraged!
Reblogged this on Words From The Heretic.
Thank you for the reblog!
You’re welcome.
I have a daughter with Autism and i know what you are talking about, kids can be very mean
With luck and work i reached my daughters heart and taught her to be tough and beat down the mean beans( not physically but if needed then that too) lot of times kids specially grown ups hide these things from their parents and suffer all alone..i wish there are many support groups and better vigilance in schools and other places
hug n love
My family knew the extent of the bullying I endured. I returned home from school one day with a 6-inch gash to my thigh, as one of my bullies had pushed me off my bike and into some bushes, telling me she hoped I’d die. I don’t know how long I just lay there, waiting and hoping for her wish to come true – but I was helped up and taken home by a couple of guys who’d seen my bike (with a buckled wheel) on the side of the road and had stopped on seeing me.
On that occasion my Nan – who I lived with – found the address for where the girl lived, took me with her to the house and spoke to the grandmother. I don’t know what happened, but she apologised to me very shortly afterwards and never bullied me again.
When a lad held a penknife against my throat one of my friends was in so much shock that she started laughing – couldn’t help herself. She walked me home and my Dad – who knew where the boy lived – walked me over there to speak to his father, who wasn’t a rough bloke but wouldn’t take behaviour like that from his kids.
Not all children are as lucky as I was, you’re right. I wish they were.
As someone else who’s always been the odd one out, it’s tough at times to find one’s place in the world, and to have the courage to keep going against the flow. I think back to my childhood and my teens and I was never sad enough to consider suicide, but it was really quite difficult on occasion.
In fact, at one point in 6th form, I got really quite cross at one of my friends who essentially bullied an older bloke to go out with her because she’d told him she was being bullied for not having a boyfriend. As all of her classes were with people from our friendship group and she was always with one of us outside of class, I have no idea who was bullying her because I never witnessed it and (while that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen) I was fairly sure she was making it up. Yes, bullying sucks, but to pretend you’re being bullied when you’re not is (to me at least) somehow worse.
I agree. Pretending to be bullied means that those of us who actually *are* don’t get taken seriously. Over the years attempts were made on my life but it was always played down.
I don’t deny that the friend in question had been bullied in the past, but I just don’t think she was then. By the time we got to 6th form, most people had evolved a bit into better human beings (probably because the ones who were the biggest pains had left to find work or go to college). In fact, there was quite a group of me & my friends, and OK, we were the least popular, but that was fine by us. The common room was quite a laugh – the supposedly most popular people sat nearest the radio, then as you came across the room, the perceived popularity level dropped. Then there was a gap. Then there was us. We were proud of that gap!
The same friend also claimed to have been anorexic at the same time, which again I doubt. I think of her behaviour and compare it to that of a friend who ended up in hospital while we were doing our GCSEs and it totally doesn’t tally up with that of someone with an ED.
I’m also aware though that by talking about this friend in this way could be construed as my bullying her. Le sigh.
Sometimes people comment on a chapter – even on the last chapter, in fact, that ‘that last line brought me to tears’. I have always thought it was an expression. I never imagined anyone was ever actually brought to tears by my words. Now, I don’t know – because by this video, by those words, by her stance, I was brought to tears. I genuinely wept, watching that video.
After crying, I paused a while. I then read your words. And your words, reminded me of playing with a doll I had, putting sauce on it, photographing it, arms mutilated etc. And I realise, again, just how, how affected we can be by childhoods.
I want so, so much to contact Amanda Todd, to hold her hand from the ether, and gently guide her back. And I want to stand by her, and walk with her, everywhere she goes, until she sees how it is done, this surviving in this world.
Damage.
They say ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ and I have said, ‘or it kills you’. And it does. And it can.
Her parents clearly did all they could to make life anew for her. My God, my God, I beg and beg anyone going through same, to not endure it day upon day but to make change and change and change until you find the right place to be, to live freely as is your right.
Lying in a ditch. I am just overwhelmed with sorrow. Overwhelmed. I’m going to shut the laptop and sleep now. This weighs on me greatly, for reasons both inexplicable and not. God Bless you, Amanda Todd. And strength to her parents.
If I’d known that poor child… if I could have reached out to her somehow…
If only.
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* speechless* No words to describe what I feel now.
What happened to that poor kid is beyond words, isn’t it?
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