I have read two posts today that have left me with a lump in my throat that is oppressive. So much so that I can’t even think about banging out anything remotely funny so if you want that and you are new I would start here and just sit this one out.  If you are not new here…my apologies and it is a pretty safe bet that I will be back to talking about
ass twitches shortly.

I have a sadness that is surrounding me today as I read these posts about bullies and their parents who not only condone the behaviour but go so far as to be proud of it, encourage it and engage in it right along with their misguided children.

As if this is somehow cool.

If it is cool then I will keep on being the uncool, out of place misfit that I am.

As I have mentioned before I was bullied from kindergarten (kinderfuckinggarten) all the way to when I left high school midway through my senior year. And by bullied I mean I was ridiculed, chased, punched, slapped, slammed up against lockers, hit over the head with binders, and kicked in the head.  These are the things I remember, but sadly (or futunately) I am sure there are more that I have blocked out.  I didn’t deal well with it at all and I am pretty sure that I threw up after confronting the girl who kicked me in the head but I did confront her and from that moment on she never even so much as looked at me.  Thankfully my family gave me the support and knowledge to understand that this was not going to be my life forever. They allowed me the room to make choices. To stay home if I needed. To leave school and go to the community college in order to graduate. To pick me up after my junior prom date left with someone else.  To allow me to wear high heals to school when the boy I had a crush on told my friend I was too short to like. To learn that one day that boy would fall in love with me to the point of obsession.

To know what it is to not only tolerate but to embrace differences whether black, white, straight, gay or just plain old shy.

To give me the confidence to rise out of my shyness and embrace my dorkiness. To have the ability to laugh at myself .

People are fragile.  Life is fragile.

We certainly don’t need the very people we are supposed to learn from and be modeled after propagating this kind of ugliness.

So this is not going to be a funny post or at least I don’t feel very funny typing it out…I won’t feel bad if you just move along, much like you did with the  wart conundrum. (I also stole the word gobbledygook from Amanda over at Brilliant Sulk…because well? Gobbledygook!)

I sit here staring at the cursor as it blinks at me, egging me on, calling me names. I kind of want it to freeze and never move again. Yet I also have an overwhelming need to jot some things down. You see this past week some things have come up for me, in me. Feelings that I haven’t felt in eons. 

It started with my quest to figure out who searched my real name, thus landing them here. Through that search I came accross of few things on FB that were funny, cute, quite possibly traumatic too.

I saw a picture of the one of my first bullies. I say one of, becasue there was a SLEW of them…GET…IN…LINE.
Yes she was my bully, she was big. I was tiny…like really tiny in elementary school. I will say her hair looked cleaner than I remember. Where mine felt decidedly dirty since it hadn’t been washed in days.  I laughed at her picture…she really terrorized me as a young girl. I was frightened to go on the playground, but at least I was a fast runner. 

I saw a picture of the first boy I ever kissed. This brought a smile to my face, he was a little cutie. 
(does anyone else notice how small everyone’s heads used to be in high school?)

I accepted a friend request from someone I kind of dated in high school. I say kind of because I don’t really remember how things concluded or how they began or anything other than he played the saxophone and that was cool to this little misfit. 

All of that aside…I had a feeling as to who searched me. I thought I knew who it was. I found him on FB through a mutual group and found out a town, googled the town (why I didn’t just google a name is anyones guess…vapid) and the town happened to be from the very area where the person spending a lot of time perusing my blog was from.  It was strange that I keyed in on him, strange that he even came to mind. I had no idea where he was living, loving, working. I hadn’t seen or heard of him in around twenty years. Truth be told I am not sure it even is him. But if the email I received is from him then I am saddened that he would think that I would consider him in the same light that I consider some other people from my past.  Yet at the same time maybe he felt a little exposed or that somethings tweets posts were directed at him and maybe they were to an extent but not entirely…and as the content warning at the top would indicate…most times I am joking, life is funny and if we take ourselves too seriously then we lose something very important, we lose a small part of our  innocence, something I wholly feel should never be lost no matter how old we grow or how many times we get bullied or hurt…
or kissed.

And now after a moment of interest, excitement, happiness, I don’t really know what actually. A thought possibly that I might become reacquainted with someone from years ago…

all I feel to do is sob. 

And I don’t know why.  

But I won’t.

I won’t denigrate a moment in my life that was very important to me.

I also will not give power to the moments in my youth that made me feel like that little misfit.
Those moments all of them, make me a stronger person today. 
They make me compassionate…they make me laugh
and
apparently cry when I think back on them, on these people.

All of them are still apart of me and always will be.