I was bullied from 5th grade all the way to 11th grade, when I finally dropped out. I really hate the word "bullying". It sounds like a way to make abuse more socially acceptable. Bullying in my mind is giving someone a bit of a hard time. Many of us here are the victims of severe mental and physical abuse at school. For example, I was once held down by two guys and hit in the forehead with a glass bottle until it shattered. Just one lovely example. I was mocked, laughed at, used as a joke ("Hey, will you ask my friend out? That would be SO funny!") and flat out jumped and beaten.
Finally, I came home and told my mom if she made me go back I would kill myself. She took me out immediately. That was 1994. I am now 31 years old. My life has literally gone nowhere. In my early twenties, I started drinking heavily and taking prescription meds (bought from a shady fellow at a pool hall) and doing drugs. I had a hard time working because I believed I was honestly not worth the effort. Finally, after being pulled out of the toilet I passed out in, I woke up and stopped boozing and taking drugs.
College was never an option for me because the thought of going back to a school and seeing people in halls and smelling textbooks would send me into a severe panic attack. In fact, I was right. I was married for awhile, and my wonderful step-daughter asked me to come to her school for a bring a parent to lunch day. I couldn't tell that child no, so I went. She was in fourth grade, and sitting beside her in that lunch room, surrounded by kids and the familiar school setting, it was all I could do to not run out. I dosed up on nerve pills before I went and was thankful I did. I was more thankful that there were no more school functions of that type forthcoming. To this day, a female laughing makes me panic.
I have been diagnosed as bi-polar depressive, with a nice anxiety disorder thrown in for good measure. I have no self-esteem, married a woman who mentally abused me and made me feel even worse about myself until she finally divorced me, and I have no real desire to do anything with my life. I can't work. I can't go to school. I can't even be around people long enough to go to the damned hospital for therapy or medication. So I sit here at my parents' house. I rarely go outside, and if I do its to go through a drive through or something. I have no interest in taking care of myself, because years of childhood abuse in school has me pretty much convinced I am not worth the effort.
All of this stemmed from being abused in school. Weak little shits needed to feel special, or they just flat-out enjoyed it. I don't buy this "the bullies are the ones who are usually abused at home". That's horse shit. I have seen the looks on their faces, as I am sure many here have. The majority of those fucking animals loved doing it, and they did it because it made them feel good, not because mommy and daddy didn't love them enough.
I wish to God I had been strong enough to do something horrible to those filthy little shits back then. I sit here and pray to God that their lives have turned out shitty. I actually laughed out loud when I heard one of my worst tormentors was killed in Iraq, after his vehicle was bombed.
Sometimes I think about that, and I wonder if my reaction wasn't the wrong one. Then I remember him bouncing my head off the concrete walls, punching me in the balls, holding me down and spitting tobacco juice in my face, and I start laughing all over again. People like that don't deserve to live, plain and simple. Flame me if you want, that fucker is still dead and I am still happy about it.
Ok, I just went and had a smoke and calmed down. I can't even type about this bullshit without getting enraged. And some moron actually had the nerve on this forum to say "sometimes bullying can be a good thing"
Hope this helps. I'm sure people who read this will think I am a monster, and I probably am.