Such a good post. I had a bad experience at one of the schools I went to and the bullying was almost 100% verbal and psychological. I ended up being the aggressor and attacking the lead. It was only when he was called out by multiple sources that the school dealt with him. I guess things are much worse now with social media but I can remember how it literally takes over your life to the exclusion of everything.I think the difference today is that a lot, possibly most, of bullying is psychological. Back in the day, you picked out the ring leader and took them on, their supporters dissipated. With social media, it's unclear who the leader is. It gives those who won't speak up in public a voice, and sometimes, on occasion, it's pure poison. They don't know how to fight physically but they learn quickly how to manipulate others to follow their lead and to do their bidding.
I have never had a fight but was called out a number of times at school. The idea of being punched never appealed to me, but I at least had the sanctuary of home. The bullies didn't know where I lived, as did none of their entourage, and usually the issue sort of went away on its own - perhaps the antagonist had quiet time to reflect too. This sanctuary doesn't exist anymore. The victim is constantly persecuted and the bully is continually re-energised.
Reacting today with violence is something I truly advise against. Social media is the conduit by which this poison spreads, and it's turning some kids feral.
I’m not big built, quite slim. And am a quiet personality, non-confrontational, quite gentle and polite in my mannerisms. Not a fighter. So, in 1977, when I began High School, I realised I had a problem. I became aware there were bullies, out to physically hurt people. And I realised they were weighing me up as a possible victim. They would keep their distance, but I could see them looking over at me and whispering to each other. I knew it would only be a matter of time before they cornered me somewhere, alone.
Because bullies are cowards, and always target the weaker individuals, the only way out of this dangerous predicament was to build myself up into a tough man, also, so they would leave me alone. My dad had some weights and a Bullworker, so I began working out regularly, and over a short time managed to pack on a bit of muscle. Also, I started to wear Doc Marten boots. And I cut my hair into a much shorter style. And learned a little Karate. This was from 11-years-old.
Basically, I transformed myself into a “hard man”. It was the only way I was going to survive five years of senior school. I had to adopt a tough guy persona, and that lasted decades. Because I took on this iron persona, it became my normal self, my everyday self, and I lost the person I really was. The real me is quick to smile and laugh, helpful and caring, kind and considerate, likes to curl up with a good book. But because my only way to survive was to become brusque and aggressive, that took over as my primary personality.
And it’s a horrible way to live, as the “Hard Man”. I’m 53 now, and only now am I shedding that heavy battered iron armour of Survival. Only now, after half a Century, is the nice gentle little boy, that I once was, coming, tentatively, back to the fore.
God-damn, I’ve lost my train of thought. I’ll just end by saying that it’s a terrible thing for a happy, innocent young child, to have to transition, suddenly, into “Knuckles Malone Prize Fighter” simply to survive school, “the best years of your life”.
Have to laugh...Is it only Manchester that's full of bullies?
Most of the people I know in Manchester are great people and I've lived in some of the rough areas ..
Lots of pricks and bullies in most towns and cities
I might be wrong, and I’m sorry if I am, but aren’t you the guy who said the thing you worried about people knowing was you fucked your mates girl and then lost them both?I’ve had it at school, work and even in circles of friends where one decides they don’t want me around. People can be cunts. Sometimes I’ve retaliated and sometimes I’ve walked away.
What frightens me the most is what I can be capable of when I lose it in a fit of rage. Someone made a comment I didn’t like in a bar once and I ended up smashing a bottle in half to threaten him. A friend rugby tackled me to the floor before I was dragged outside. It took me hours to calm down about it and I shudder what I might have done had interference not happened. I just got a stunned “Why did you take that personally?” from my mate.
I put it down to the name calling, threats and violence I’ve received from haters. Defence syndrome. I’ve been an easy target for my size, being a nerd etc. I can snap easily.
From your story, they’re posting that same thing somewhere else on some other forum! 8-0Manchester is full of confrontational, argumentative, arrogant, snide bullies. Always has been. Look at the traditional scally culture. I knew some awful people during a spell there.
I’m not big built, quite slim. And am a quiet personality, non-confrontational, quite gentle and polite in my mannerisms. Not a fighter. So, in 1977, when I began High School, I realised I had a problem. I became aware there were bullies, out to physically hurt people. And I realised they were weighing me up as a possible victim. They would keep their distance, but I could see them looking over at me and whispering to each other. I knew it would only be a matter of time before they cornered me somewhere, alone.
Because bullies are cowards, and always target the weaker individuals, the only way out of this dangerous predicament was to build myself up into a tough man, also, so they would leave me alone. My dad had some weights and a Bullworker, so I began working out regularly, and over a short time managed to pack on a bit of muscle. Also, I started to wear Doc Marten boots. And I cut my hair into a much shorter style. And learned a little Karate. This was from 11-years-old.
Basically, I transformed myself into a “hard man”. It was the only way I was going to survive five years of senior school. I had to adopt a tough guy persona, and that lasted decades. Because I took on this iron persona, it became my normal self, my everyday self, and I lost the person I really was. The real me is quick to smile and laugh, helpful and caring, kind and considerate, likes to curl up with a good book. But because my only way to survive was to become brusque and aggressive, that took over as my primary personality.
And it’s a horrible way to live, as the “Hard Man”. I’m 53 now, and only now am I shedding that heavy battered iron armour of Survival. Only now, after half a Century, is the nice gentle little boy, that I once was, coming, tentatively, back to the fore.
God-damn, I’ve lost my train of thought. I’ll just end by saying that it’s a terrible thing for a happy, innocent young child, to have to transition, suddenly, into “Knuckles Malone Prize Fighter” simply to survive school, “the best years of your life”.