Damaged

Between the ages of 12 and 14 I was bullied at school, it's over 20
years since that period in my life but I still think about it, I'm
still deeply affected by it. It has played a large role in my
development as a person. For years I was shy, I lacked confidence,
people might see me now and be confused by this, outwardly I am
confident, and I have become more so but inside of me is that teenage
boy who desperately wanted his tormentors to like him and so allowed
them to continue.

Looking back I know I should have fought back, I remember a classmate
asking me why I put up with the stick, I had plenty of other friends.
He was right of course, but I didn't want to be defeated by the
bullies, they were supposed to be my mates, after all. I wanted them to
realise that I was better than they were. They have probably all
forgotten these events now, but I return to them periodically, they
were the making of me, not the breaking of me.

I was "blessed " with crooked teeth which necessitated not one but two
braces at the same time. At the age of 12 I was a metal mouth, and the
thing about these things is that unpleasant as it is, food gets trapped
in them. You are supposed to take them out prior to eating, but you
don't always remember, so my breath was a little on the stinky side and
the boys in my class started to notice. Not all of them, it was the
boys I hung around with.

I didn't notice it at first, I heard references to BA, breath ache, and
smans behind my back, I didn't know what they meant and was too
nervous to ask. I saw other members of the class being picked on, there
was a hierarchy and I didn't want to be at the bottom of the heap. I
thought that if I ignored it, it would go away. I was 12 so forgive me
if the strategy wasn't the best; it was all I had. I wasn't the only
victim and I joined in on the verbal assaults of others, initially, my
enjoyment stopped when I found myself in the firing line. It wasn't
physical bullying, I think that would have been easier to take, more
direct, it would have made more sense, it was psychological bullying, I
think they wanted to break me in some way, and to this day, I don't
know what their motivations were, I can hazard a guess in some cases,
for the ring leader, it was a power thing, for the others, it was a
power thing as well, but they wanted to please him in some way, some
because they adored him, some because they hated him, some because they
were scared he would do the same to them.

Who were they? The Doctor

There was one main protagonist in all this , he's probably a different
person now, 25 odd years later. I'll call him the doctor for
convenience. The Doctor got the bus with me to school every day, we sat
together, talked, joked, took the piss out of other kids, he was a
mate, and the weird thing is, he actually was a mate, but he could be
mean and callous to mates and not feel guilt over it. To this day we
have never spoken about those 2 years, I do run into him from time to
time and even now can't talk to him about it.

The Artist

The artist was a nasty piece of work, I have not seen him since I was
18 and have no desire to see him ever again, He was pure evil malice,
and he would draw cruel caricatures of other boys, picking up on
perceived faults. He would allow these pictures to be seen "by
accident" by his targets, but for some reason, he picked on those
people who would not hit him (a wise strategy perhaps) All these years
later, I wish I had really belted him. The artist would draw on demand
for the Doctor, who delighted in the cruelty displayed on paper. Even
today, if I met him, I'm sure I would give him a good slap and feel no
guilt.

The Cleric

I knew the cleric before I had started at this school, he lived near
me, went out with my sister. Why He joined in, I'm not sure. He wasn't
as malicious as the Doctor and the Artist, and you could see how guilty
he felt about joining in. I don't feel any hatred for him, he is
married now, with children of his own, I'm sure he sometimes remembers
those days and maybe feels a twinge of guilt. I think for him it was a
self-preservation thing.

The Diver

The Diver wasn't in our form but he mixed with the Doctor and therefore
was ripe for recruitment. I ignored him better than the others, I
didn't like him before this all started so it was easy to ignore him.
He lived up to his name; he swam around the doctor, delighting in the
misery that the Doctor or his followers dealt out.

The Thief

The thief wasn't a willing participant in all this , he was deflecting,
, he was adopted and of mixed race and they saw that as a weakness and
attacked him for it. When I was subjected to the taunts, he wasn't, he
would join in, but apologise to me afterwards when we were out of
school. I had known him since the age of 5 and it was difficult to cope
with what I perceived as betrayal,, but I soon recognised his reasons
and forgave him at the time. I see him now, he is a close friend and
from time to time we have spoken of these events, he still harbours
guilt about his role but I now see him as a victim for which there is
nothing to forgive.

This campaign against me had peaks and troughs and it had an internal
rhythm that I soon recognised. The Doctor led it all; it would all
depend on his mood whether or not I got it, or some other poor sap. He
was quite majestic in his own malicious way, the Artist sought approval
from him and gave him gifts of cartoons and caricatures, the cleric
felt he could enjoy some of the sun that shone on the Doctor's upturned
face, the diver, would dip in and out of the Doctor's wake, like a
dolphin, enjoying his proximity to the master. The Thief was a weather
vane, sensing which way the Doctor would blow and I always expected the
worse and was pleased when it didn't occur.

I think the worse was when it seem to happen every day, I would count
the minutes and hours since I had last been insulted, since the last
barb, the last comment, the last sman. The record was always set on
a Monday morning, since I had not seen them as a group since the Friday
afternoon. 65 hours of bliss. I did see the Doctor outside School,
along with the cleric, and the thief. We were best of pals, hanging out
in town, trying and failing to chat up girls, standard teenage fare. It
was as if they saw me as 2 people, Breath-ache and Toze (my other non
insulting nick-name), at school it appeared to be open season on me,
but once out of the uniform, we were pals,

Why did I hang around with my tormentors? It was a matter of pride, I
had hung around with the Doctor since day one, and I had sat next to
him in class in my first year. I suppose I desperately sought his
approval and by taking the treatment I would get it. The older me would
never have put up with this sort of treatment, but the younger me did
not have the benefit of hindsight. When I turned 14, it all seemed to
stop, but for a few years I always thought it might start all over
again. I never confronted the tormentors, I should have, but it is easy
to say but never easy to do. In a way I felt victorious, I had not
allowed them to beat me, I took everything they had, and kept taking
it. It was a great learning experience; I abhor bullies, and will not
put up with it as an adult.

I don't see any of them now, bar one, who is an old and trusted friend.
He has made amends and he has nothing to feel guilty about. I looked
all of them up on the Internet recently, only one was to be found. The
Artist, he makes a living selling cheesy drawings of classic cars....
not quite the success he probably thought he would be......pity
that...not !!