An Explanation

I was bullied from the age of seven to seventeen, lots of people have had a worse time than me, but experience is subjective and personal. As an adult you're able, sometimes, to step outside your own world and problems and see that, comparitively speaking, things aren't so bad. But as a child, particularly a young child, that's impossible. The things you go through as a child affect you for the rest of your life, I have been struggling to come to terms with how my being bullied has affected me psychologically for over 25 years now and it is a long and slow process. It has affected every part of my life. Personal relationships have suffered, I spent years in an abusive relationship, I have struggled with low self opinion and self hatred. Even now, in middle age, I am prone to self harm. I struggle to believe that anyone would like me, I am always surprised when people remember me.

I'm not totally innocent either, sometimes at your lowest point you kick down, I kicked down more than once and hated myself for it then and now. And there are also the people I let down by not stepping in, not stopping their torment, often for fear it would be turned on me, sometimes out of relief that it was someone else for a change. I witnessed some horrible things and these have stayed with me just as much as the stuff that happened to myself.

This blog is not a cry for help or sympathy, it is a healing process. As I slowly write stuff down that happened, maybe I can begin to let go of it, because I am sick and fucking tired of carrying it around with me. Maybe if someone else reads it who is feeling the same, they might realise that they're not alone. Maybe, we can all begin to heal our hurt together.

Although the first proper post deals with primary school, this is not a chronological story, it's going to be as and when I feel like or feel up to writing some memories down, it will dot about from year to year.