The Softball Bully

In 8th grade, I was leaning against a tree during P.E. class when somebody threw a softball at me while smiling broadly because the softball hit me in the right eye. I had an optometrist notice that I had damage in that eye from the softball but my eye doctor couldn’t see it. This traumatizing event had consequences for me in the form of a red, bleeding eye. Of course, nobody did anything about who hit me like that with a mere baseball bat. Another significant event in 8th grade was that I hit a boy who was making fun of my braces and not stopping. I punched him in the stomach because he wouldn’t stop.

They made a friend laugh along with everybody else in P.E. who hated me for leaning against a tree and daydreaming, the bully objected to me doing this. I had to establish consequences. You see, the softball bully had picked on me for a very long time by then, but I’m not sure when because I do not have my elementary school yearbooks. I was placed in an elementary school where I was mainstreamed, as opposed to public school. No school I was going to while growing up demanded I get pediatric schizophrenia meds.

I wish somebody had said something. Nobody suggested SSI on top of that. You see, I likely would have qualified as a child but some people would have kept the money from me. The bully really enjoyed hurting me, so it should be said that is what bullies enjoy doing the most, hurting their victims. Bullies really enjoy this. I have come to understand bullies are deliberate even when they say “It was not my intention.” That is so much bull, right there.

It is, of course, the bullies intention to hurt you. They really want it. I mean the kid who threw that softball at me was laughing at my pain like it was funny. He leveled a threat to my friend (as I was friends with new students at my elementary school and only them since everybody else picked on me or was a relational bully). Laugh or you will suffer the consequences. You have to remember that boys are neanderthals in high school or even farther back, junior high to elementary school. As four-year-old boys are not that bad, it becomes worse with raging hormones because of puberty. Children learn how to pick on other kids from an early age.

My family refused to let me leave toxic environments. They wanted me to stay put because of educational opportunity. Due to authoritarian parenting, I never had much of a choice as a child except when guests were around. I mean, I really was expected to do what I was told. My medical records speak of the way I had oppositional defiant disorder since I was always fighting people in authority. I have to wonder if my ODD was the result of not getting treatment for other mental illnesses and how angry was about that, which was the cause of my trauma, to begin with.

One technique that I’ve found works with bullies is glaring at them, not saying anything, but looking at them in a way that intimidates them. School inflicted a great deal of trauma on me that only my dog at the time helped with. My sweet dog helped me survive it. He’s been gone now since 2006, when we put him to sleep. The poor thing hung on until the last possible minute. The sadness of parting with him was pretty intense. He was a real gift to have in my life. I survived all the bullying because of my dog, really. I have to go back to the technician who found the evidence of a scar on my eyes. But then again, I deal with cataracts, floaties, and astigmatism, or nearsightedness and farsightedness at the same time. So yes, I need to get new glasses anyway. Thanks for donating.