30 Days – Day 8 – Living Hell

If you’re following this blog, you know I’m participating in the ‘30 Days of Truth‘ project I’ve seen on other blogs.  It’s helping me commit to posting every single day, since I’m also taking part in The Daily Post project.

Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.

Right… so anyway.  Jeez, it must be hot – that dude is sweating.  Hmmm…why do I feel the need to submit that photo here?

Oh?  Okay, any how…wait, before I get started, can I just say Hell/hell would be way cooler if it was anything like the place in ‘Constantine.’

The other one just looks shitty.  Okay, okay…as usual, I digress.

I have really, really been avoiding this post.  I’m just not sure how I want to address this topic.  I’m doing my best to just stick to the topics during the 30 Days challenge, so I’ll give it a go.

Kids in school sometimes made my life hell.  High school, really.  I wasn’t really popular.  I fit in somewhere between social pariah and cool kids – though probably closer to pariah.  To draw from one of the best movies ever, if there was an A, B, and C group in high school, I lodged squarely in the B group.

Ever been in the B group?  Let me spell that one out for you.  You’re high enough up the food chain to make fun of the truly outcast among you, but certainly not above being made fun of to the delight of those “cooler” than you.  WTF is up with that?!  How’s that for a false sense of security?

I did make fun of someone “lower” in the ranks than I once.  He was a nice kid, named Chris.  It was easy.  He was an easy target, on so many levels.  And yes, it was totally to deflect attention away from myself.  I still regret it, every time it crosses my mind.  I’m sorry, Chris.  I really am.

It’s very sad to me that so many young men have been taking their own lives because of bullying.  Man, I hate to sound old, but times sure are different.  Granted, not that this type of thing was unheard of when I was growing up, but as with many other things people of my generation (AW, are you listening?) 😉 will say about “back in my day,” kids got bullied, and it fucking SUCKED, but you just dealt, and knew that one day you’d get the hell out.

That’s precisely what I did.  There were 26 people in my graduating class – roughly 200-250 in my entire middle & high school (7th – 12th).  So, there was no fading into the masses.  Everyone pretty much knew everyone else.  But, looking back, I’m sure we were all struggling to find our own identities and get the F out of there.  Even the cool kids, I’m convinced.  Funny thing, so many of the people I graduated with didn’t get out.  Some of them stayed right there in that little town, and life unfolded or imploded, depending on one’s viewpoint.

Hey, to each their own.  I actually landed a job in, and moved to, a college town about 45 minutes away from my hometown, a month or so after graduation.  That was my first taste of freedom.  I happened to run into a guy who’d tortured the hell out of me in high school, working as an assistant manager at McDonald’s or something.  He’d graduated a couple of years before me.  We’d been friends when we were little boys, but then came a time when I guess he caved, as many of us do, to the peer-pressures of high schooldom, and he picked on me (publicly, of course) mercilessly.

That’s the first time I really remember feeling betrayal.  Anyway, when I ran into him, he was really, really nice to me.  His kindness redeemed not only him, but in some small way humanity.

I wonder if he ever thinks back to those days, and harbors any regret.  I have long since forgiven him, and forgiven myself for not standing up for myself more.


6 thoughts on “30 Days – Day 8 – Living Hell

  1. I have been in the B group. When I left tiny school in 1oth grade I moved to snobby school and though I made friends from all groups I never really felt I fit in. Even the teachers were snobby.

    ahh so many memories of tiny school. Though it did have it’s bullies.

    • Oh I forgot to add that I dug out some yearbooks tonight to just have a look at our younger selves. Lol, we were very, very young!

    • Yeah…I have many great memories of those times and our school. In fact, bullying aside (as this happens everywhere, sadly, b/c kids are idiots), I’m torn between feelings of appreciation and regret at having gone to such a small, rather isolated school. But, the area and the times were different. I mean, we didn’t even lock our doors at night, living out in the country, and my parents left the keys of the car in the floorboard with the doors unlocked. It was really never a concern. I wonder if it’s still like that out there…probably not, unfortunately. BUT, on the other hand, I have often wished I’d gone to some awesome arts magnet high school. Oh well, regretting the past is pointless.

  2. For me it was a little different, I do not know if I was an A grouper but probably B+ or A-. I was one of my high school’s most successful athletes and had tons of acquaintances (that of course at that time I thought were friends). Also I need to admit I was a bully, but not your regular bully, I considered myself the bully’s bully. I never in my life have picked on someone who could not defend themselves (either by outwitting or outfighting me) quite the contrary I found myself plenty of times standing up for them. I guess I was just a weird one (and that in itself should have made me part of the C class)

    • Interesting… I can’t see you picking on anyone. Well, no…I take that back – I think I can see you picking on someone who’s picking on others. 🙂 And funny that you say that about the C group – in truth I was probably a B- or C+ in denial, lol.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s