Hmm, nowa, it seems to me you've been working really hard at this for a very short period of time. Maybe you need to take a break from the heavy emotional lifting
I am trying to take a break, but this has come up:
After another bad night, caused by finding a robin trapped in my flat one dark evening, yesterday, and deciding to leave it shut in my bedroom (because when i tried to get it to fly out of the bedroom window, which was dark, it kept flying into a mirror and hurting itself), so that when the dawn came, it would fly out of the window, which is what happened, but sleeping on a couple of large cushions on the living room floor was extremely uncomfortable and I am still in a lot of pain. But it caused me to remember all the occasions on which I have been bullied, apart from my father's chronic bullying behaviour.
The first time, was when I was 10, we had left NZ and were living in a sort of bungalow on the Romney Marshes, near a village called Winchelsea, it was a Church School. I can remember being asked to tell the other children about the voyage from New Zealand, A wonderful experience, coming through the Panama Canal and visiting exotic islands on the way. my enthusiasm must have triggered envy in the other children, because they all ganged up on me and my twin brothers, holding their noses whenever they met us because we "stank" and chasing us for the mile and a half we had to walk to get home, throwing stones at us. I became very anxious about going to school, as I, at the age of ten, was the only child in the school to pass the 11 plus examination, which determined your education at secondary school, I was glad that I had passed and could go to a Grammar School. So my mother took me away from school and allowed me to run wild on the marshes until we moved again, this time to Scotland where I went to Stirling High School, where I became known for taking on any "dares" that I was given, I can remember being dared to turn the light on and off in a class take by the Rector, but I can't remember the consequences, I liked the school and the other pupils.
I can't remember any anger about the bullying, just feeling confusion about why it was happening and the fear that it caused.
But I am very angry now, how could those lIttle shits have behaved the way they did, and why didn't ANYBODY stop them? and why did my mother take me away from the situation instead of dealing with it?? My F ing father wasn't around (he had joined the Educational Corps of the Army, so was stationed miles away)`and wouldn't have been any use anyway.
The second and last time I was bullied happened in 2001. I was still very ill from coming off antidepressants and the benzodiazepine Ativan, which I had been taking for 27 years. But I had managed to teach myself to make ceramics my going to an adult education class. I decided to rent some studio space, and got a grant to pay the rent. Unfortunately, at the studio was a young woman who I initially befriended (i didn't know that she had had problems with self harming), and we got on really well, until she had a bad trip on some drug and came to my flat for help, I looked after her for a few days, and explained that the panic she was feeling was a side effect and all she needed to do was to let time pass until the drug was out of her system. which she did, but when we were both back in the studio, she turned against me, and told lies about me so that nobody would speak to me, etc, so that I became totally isolated when I was at the studio, making my life even more hellish than it already was because of the drug withdrawal symptoms that I was still experiencing from Ativan.
This went on for 2 years until she moved into another studio, where her personal problems got her a reputation fo being a dangerous person to befriend, (and I felt vindicated at last).
BUT again I felt no anger at the time, I felt miserable but I stubbornly refused to be driven away and eventually became a successful ceramicist (until 7 years ago when my symptoms of fibromyalgia suddenly added CFS, and I couldn't even get to the studio because of my problem with walking).
I don't understand my lack of anger, I seemed to take it for granted that I should be bullied.
But I do understand my lack of anger since I have discovered TMS, and this morning I felt it for the first time. Why did I put up with it, why was there no help for me from anybody, and I hope the shit girl is suffering. I would like to smash her face in, if I could get my hands on her she wouldn't need to self harm again..
I want to find another ceramics class and start again.
