I was avoiding this QOTW until I came home
This is going to be a stream of consciousness. Sorry. it's the only way I can deal with it - let my self go emotionally cold and not think about it. All bullying strikes hard with me. My girlfriend was and still is bullied - I'm picking up the pieces nearly daily. It's a horrible, horrible thing, we all know that. It untimatly ends up shaping who we are.

The worst part is that we know it's going to happen, no matter what we do to protect ourselves or others.

I was classic victim material in primary school. I don't make friends easily now, nor have I ever done. Thats just who I am. Add to the mix being reasonably intelligent, not giving a flying monkeys how I look, coming out with some frankly stupid things and a willingness to abide by the rules, and there you have it.

Lets start at primary school, shall we?
All of five, in walks a miniPot. Resplendent in his school uniform trousers shirt and top. I liked these clothes. These optional clothes. Was rolled in mud that very morning.
I continued to wear them throughout my six years there. Every day - dead arms. Kicking. Spat at. I don't like football, never have - oh, well, you obviously can't join in our games. Haha, you didn't watch that film last night, what an idiot.

Yep, brought it on myself. I didn't understand what was going on really, so I kept trying and kept getting pushed back.

Onwards to secondary school! Hurrah! Finally, I can make a bit of a break. Nope. not with the people from primary school who socialised and had already told plenty of people about me. Friends? Fat chance. Nobody wanted to be seen with me.

At this point, a few things happened. I was more aware of what was going on, and the stings began to stay with me. I pushed them aside. I bottled it all up, a tendency that stays with me today. I bottle, push aside and force it down until it explodes. Currently, it's the only way I'm dealing with reading this QOTW. So it was at the age of 12 I was sitting on my bed, belt around my neck and the bed, contemplating jumping off. Of all the things to stop it, it was mum calling for dinner. Just broke the spell. Thankyou mum.

I mentioned other things were happening. One is that I do NOT like cutting my hair. It grows out in to a big puffball, sort of like an afro but with a flat bit at the back. The problem was, there had been a guy at the school who had had a very similar hairstyle to my own. The difference between him and me, he'd been caught in the school toilet giving a blow job to another pupil.

The catcalls started following me around. Everywhere I went, I was called by this boys last name. If people didn't come near me before, they activly stayed away from me. "Keep away from Pot, he'll give you gayer disease". I didn't even like the cock back then. But as always, just bottled it back up, put it aside and tried to forget. I had my second snap. It wasn't much. "GAYER" was bellowed in my face. So I punched him in the stomach, and walked off. End of.

So I thought. A couple of days later, this lad wanted revenge. He and his mates grabbed me on lunch time and pushed me in to the toilet. "YOU FUCKING GAYER!" was spat in my face. "You love the cock. You love Holmsey's cock so much, you make yourself look like him in your worship. Well, here's your fucking cock!". Keeping it short - they raped me. Hello /talk. Please form an orderly queue to call me a liar. I'm not though. Why didn't I go to the police? Teachers? Parents? Nobody would believe me. That's how I felt. Numb. Nothing. Worthless nothing. I still feel... nothing. Nothing at all about it. The memory is there, but no feelings associated with it.

Back then I needed to feel something. Anything. You know what happened there. Suffice to say, there is a patch of skin on my leg where no hair will ever grow. I still keep the box with the kit. It's airtight. I know everything in there is in perfect condition.

Although as far as I'm away nothing about the toilet even got out, the cat calls, punches and other abuse still continued. I retreated in to my books. Things changed a bit around year eleven. Purely random event. Someone asked me for help. I gave it. They realised I was quite willing to help people. I actually made a few tentative friends. Moving on to the sixth form (same school) was better. I had realised a few things that were the cause of my being the victim and did a few simple things to help. I sought psychological help for my social issues, and it worked. It was great. I could get on in life without being hassled.

Ok, that was an exaggeration. I still got verbal hassle from the lower years. I'm big enough that msot of them wouldn't try anything on me. My own year was actually being decent to me. While I wouldn't say I felt happy, as I had (and still do) a tendency to stick my foot in it causing me to be shunned for a while. I ended up making some good friends - the only people I'm still in contact with. I even managed to go out on dates with a couple of people. Life, while not great, was still better that it had been.

Took a gap year before uni. worked in a warehouse. Was very happy. Social skills getting better, got on very well with people there. Then met the girl who became my ex-fiancee.

Hooo boy. She was great at first. Helped me find work at the edinburgh festival and otehr places. Took me to see parts of the UK and gave me some independence. It was great, until I went to university. Why hadn't I called her? Didn't I know she needed calling? How dare you ignore me. You went out with your friends? But I neeeeeded you!

I don't know how she made me do it. But she got it in to my head that if I loved her and really, really wanted to show it, I would propose. And like the weak willed sap, I did. Didn't stop the passive-agggressive. She needed money for this little thing. Needed me to take her there. Need need NEED! If I didn't comply, I got verbal and sometimes physical hell. But partway through university, I snapped again.

Top tip? Two bottles of Nytol and half a litre of Bells doesn't work. it just makes you sleep for 24 hours.

broke it off. Passive-aggressive attacks don't stop at first, but it tails off. I've lost where I'm going with this. Sorry.

What I'm trying to get at... not sure. I have one skill on the net - I can find people. A few basic bits of invofmation and I can find a photograph, names addresses etc. I've checked up on some of the people who bullied me. Personally, I think I'm doing better than they are now. I'm actually happy with life, because I know what the future holds - and to me, it's good. I have a girlfriend who loves me, and who I love a lot, even though I only see her every few weeks. My family really do love me and are there for me. I have firends at work. I'm meeting new peple and making friends out. I'm building the life I want, with people I want to share it with in various ways.

But none of that above matters. None. August 23rd. I will have finished my HNC. Bloodstock heavy metal festival will be over. I will have just come home from three weeks with the girlfriend. And I have a bottle of nembutal in a little drawer waiting for me.
(Potty Jag har smör i min rumpspringa, Wed 13 May 2009, 21:09, 12 replies)

Jeez
Blimey.

Don't let the bastards grind you down.
(morse, Wed 13 May 2009, 21:14, closed)

Ahhh Fuck.
:/ This is one of those things that I have trouble reading. Um. Well, I seriously hope that you manage to come to terms with what happened at some point. I take it the Nembutol is for insomnia? Here's hoping you wont have to use it to get sleep at some point.
(Fredz A graveyard of hopes, a dump of ambition, Wed 13 May 2009, 21:20, closed)

You *could* say it is for insomna.
You wouldn't want to take dosage I have though unles you were really, really sure about it.
(Potty Jag har smör i min rumpspringa, Wed 13 May 2009, 22:14, closed)

Ahh, fuck man
Don't do that. Seriously. Its a very final solution to the problem. Seriously, you're worth more than that. It's very brave of you to post that to start with, and to come through that even more so. Just - I don't know realy. Get help somehow. There's even websites where you can get a sort of group therapy thing, all kinds of things.
(Fredz A graveyard of hopes, a dump of ambition, Wed 13 May 2009, 22:38, closed)

Why? What help?
I'm happy. Really. Things are all going well for me.

I might not. Lets be honest - it's not going to happen. Depends how I feel when it comes to it. It's nice to have the option if I need it though.
(Potty Jag har smör i min rumpspringa, Wed 13 May 2009, 22:42, closed)

Well, I hope you don't.
But, you know, looking for escape exits and all might not be too healthy. And I'm glad things are going well for you.
(Fredz A graveyard of hopes, a dump of ambition, Wed 13 May 2009, 22:48, closed)

If you even like your girlfriend
Let alone love her, you know enough to realize that it's an option you don't have.
(Roopy all is not what it seams, Thu 14 May 2009, 0:34, closed)

Pot
you said what you went through was not like what I went through. You're right - but it's just as bad - if not worse. You didn't and don't deserve all that.

Your girlfriend is lucky to have you.
*hugs*
(Poppet some assembly required., Wed 13 May 2009, 22:07, closed)

Don't kill yourself on August 23rd you twat.
That's my birthday.
(mysterious_w, Wed 13 May 2009, 22:07, closed)

That's what I like about b3ta
It's like one big warm, loving family :)
( flatfrog Staring vacantly into space, Thu 14 May 2009, 9:40, closed)

Jesus that's horrible.
I'm so, so sorry that you had to go through that. I'd like to add to everyone else who's said that you really shouldn't touch the nembutal; not now, not ever. I can't pretend I was ever in your situation, but if you do need someone to talk to, please, please gaz me. x
( Maladicta, Wed 13 May 2009, 23:08, closed)

Don't do it
you'll miss Bloodstock next year!
(Himjim died a little more inside on, Thu 14 May 2009, 9:16, closed)