Adults, as Useful as a Limp Noodle

I am reading a book with a criminal profiler as the main character.  He fears he is so very good at his job because he could easily become like the people he profiles.  He has an insight into their deviant behaviors because of his own up bring.  He says how he learned to act like the people around him to avoided the abuse.  He presented a mask only pretending to be human and that thought struck me.  I never did that to cope.  I felt like my very presence was offensive, it didn't matter how well I acted.  I learn to modify my behavior to become invisible, but I did not pretend to be any thing but who I was.  I had hope that when a person overcame their prejudice they would like me and enough did, so I continue to try.

I need to make a clarification.  When I say "people" I mean that as the unspecific masses like when you hear "1,000 people died in accident".  You feel sorrow for them and maybe a bit of outrage, but you are able to continue you everyday life without disturbance. I have noticed that when an individual is highlighted by the media or a story the tragedy is easier to comprehend,  we can feel the families sorrow, the injustice and we become inflame for the individual.  That is how I think of my interactions the group is the big bad wolf and the individuals did enough for me to hang on.

I know that this is happening as you read my personal story.  When I was going through it I did not have the understanding of what was happening.  I could not explain any of it and I know a lot of individuals are feeling guilty.  I'm not going to say everything is OK and I am not going to say the way you should feel.  Now that I am able to voice my feelings.  I do not want to hear apologies.  I am writing specific instants of what happened to me because they are the instances that my thinking changed for good or for bad.  I believe that is what is important and if I can help others to understand then this exercise has been worth while.

Let me make it clear that I did not grow up being abused.  The constant ridicule happened when we moved.  I feel like my personality was formed.  I had developed relationships with peers however dysfunctional they were.  I was thrust into a new life that did not work out for me and I became very fearful of change.  I saw how my situation could be worse and I was frighten that it would become my reality.  I only had to deal with my peer group at school and 2 hours in church.  They could not attack me during class time, so I was able to make some progress with some of the fellow students.  Recess and Lunch were a horror and I learned to never be in the same place every time.  I became the most successful at blending into the fringes of large groups.  That was the best defense until some one noticed me and yelled for me to "get away".

I truly became aware of how ineffectual adults were in 6th grade.  A boy, I can't even remember his name, decide to make me his prime target.  Every moment of every day he tortured me.  It wasn't enough at recess & lunch, he had to get me during class time and he would by pretending to sharpen his pencil and pull my hair on the way to the sharpener.  He came up with constant ways to upset and hurt me.  And he did it all right in front of the teacher.  Yes, her back would be turned when hit me.    He would wait until I walked out the door and follow clipping my heals with his shoes.  The teacher would tell him to stop, but it did not matter.  I felt like I had no recourse to his actions.  The adults could tell him to stop all they wanted, it did not mean he would.  I saw how ineffectual those in authority really were.  The boy would be all smiles to their faces, but turn on me faster than a rattlesnake.  I really thought he would leave me alone.  I did not have experiences with this kind of hostility and I had no idea that the boy would only escalate.

I followed the being bullied rules.  I found them in this book and I realized that I had followed the same rules for the same reasons.

Ever since the bullies had started to pick on him, the smallest boy in the street and in his class, he'd learned the harsh lessons of self-control.  "never show they've hit the mark it only reveals your weak points."   -Val McDermid

I did not do the next part.

Learn to be one of the lads.  Learn the Vocabulary, learn the body language, acquire the attitude.  Mix it all together and what do you get?  You get a man who hasn't the remotest idea of who he is.  You have a consummate actor, a human impostor who can take on local color like a chameleon -Val McDermid

My look was so different I wasn't able to do that to avoid the attention, but as I've thought about it I am able to be nice.  It takes a huge amount of effort and concentration, but I am able to be charming and clever.  I can blend into the likes of the people I am with even if I do not agree.  The trick is to get them talking about themselves or what they like.  It is nice when the conversation is established, but I get tired at have to lead the conversation, of having to ask the guy to dance or have to pay for the date.  I also get very, very, tired of the rejection.

Back to 6th grade, I couldn't cry.  I couldn't show weakness or pain or the wolves would descend.  He bothered me for months.  I really thought he would get bored.  I did not react and I did not care about him when I left school for the day, but he did not stop.

I can't remember what pushed me over the edge.  What he did to inflame me so much.  I think it was nothing.  I think it had just gotten to be too much and I could not take it anymore.  We were standing in line to go back to class and no matter how much I tried to ignore him he would stand behind me whispering crap into my ear.  I turn on my heels and in one swift motion I punched him in the chest.  He fell to the ground crying.  Satisfaction, but no joy.  I was upset to hurt him so badly.  When he caught his breath he immediately ran to the teacher and told on me.  The absolute injustice was so bitter I could not take it.   He had been physically and mentally abusive to me for months.  The teacher never seeming to care and because he was crying and pathetic I was suspended from school.

The hardness came at that point.  I could not trust anyone.  I accepted my punishment because I did hit him.  My parents congratulated me.  I guess they knew that something else had to be going on because of my reaction.  My parents protested and the boy was suspended also.  It didn't matter.  I became so afraid of authority after that.  I was not popular or cute and I was not believed.  It was after this instance that I knew to keep my head down.

I did my good things in private.  I worked really hard on my projects and I learned if my name wasn't attached then the object of my attention had more success.  I stopped telling people what I liked or what I created.  I love ebay because they have no idea what I look like.  They buy my work because they like it.  I feel like that is true of today.  My clothing and costumes should be judged on their own merit, not because some one likes me or not. Everything in life seems to be a damn popularity contest.  It isn't talent amd I know in that kind of contest I would always lose. Unfortunately I have failed in the work environment because of "being myself".  I know I need to be more excited and love a 9 to 5 job, but I really don't do well in the constrains of an office.  In the work enviornment it seems to be more important how you do the work then the results.  I do not walk the path of others, I like to think and explore other options and I find that authority frowning at me once again, but I don't care, I choose my own way.