Bullying.

The world can be a nasty place. I can't list all the people who have been nasty to me on all my fingers and toes. Too many. People who I have loved and people who have loved me. Acquaintances. Strangers. They tell you to kill people with kindness because no war fuelled with anger is ever won. Sure being angry can be helpful, or so I've been told, but if get so angry your point tends to go unheard and misinterpreted. That's just how it is. You have to put the fire out and then use the energy it in a very different way. Utilise your energy to get your arguments across without shouting at the person. Or people. Usually I get angry at more than one person, don't you? Many many people wrong us all the time that you can't single out one.

Unless, well, unless you twist it because it's so much easier to get angry at yourself. One person. That way you can refrain from saying something hurtful and nasty to those you love. Take it out on the person you love the least and that, for many, is the person they spend the majority of their life alone with; themselves. And you hold this anger inside for so long that you of miss it when you express it towards other people. It's like you lose something more than a piece of your mind. I suppose applying the saying kill them with kindness can apply to yourself. But can you kill yourself with kindness? Because that's almost suggesting a 'kind' suicide. Doesn't the sufferer usually liken suicidal ideation as being kind though? Because it feels kind to themselves after all of the internal/external pain they've experienced but also to those around them. But no, that's not the correct phrase to use here. The phrase means to use your kindness and compassion to confuse the other person that's made you angry. They least expect it and it shocks them because why are you not angry? They wanted a reaction just not this one. They become uncomfortable and feel guilty. Maybe it makes them pause and consider their words for much longer. It diffuses their power and in that way they learn. People grow from understanding or attempting to understand their impact upon other people. Because everything does affect everything. Like knocking a domino against the rest of the set.

One nasty comment. Followed by another. Then more people contributing days, weeks, years, later. And the first person has no clue their words can cause this to happen. How could they? They only saw a snapshot of the other person's life. This is how bullying works and is reinforced. Because the bully gets away, or believes they can get away, with saying something mean. Something they believe to be funny. A joke. But then what if someone else overheard it? What then? Because if it's so damn hilarious to the first person then why not share the joke. It's a joke, right? No harm. And then names and phrases and kicks and shoves become a huge tornado. The person who started it can't experience it. They might not even see it. Trust me though, it happens. It's like your world dramatically falls apart and circles around you. Words sound louder. The world slows and quickens out of nowhere. You feel out of control. Who will be the next person to catch you off guard? To play on your reputation. To make yet another joke about you. You are on constant alert even though you want the ground to swallow you up. To vanish. You see I was called various names. I was made fun of for many years. As a laugh. As a joke. But it didn't feel that way to me.

It felt like a personal attack. That I was so very faulty and that I'd done something nasty to that one person who started the domino effect. I know who that person was. I've know him since I was 5 years old. And then he made a comment. More people joined in and then, before I knew it, the majority of my school year added their bit. One by one a domino would fall. And maybe you all didn't mean it and maybe some of you are sorry but that doesn't change how it made me feel. How it still has an impact upon how I see myself. I was always so kind. Maybe too kind. I hoped to be liked and accepted but instead I was a laughing matter each day of my school life. I know you didn't know my home situation but you all didn't help. You added to my desperate need to cut my skin with blades at the age of eleven. Because I felt I deserved it. That I was a horrible person. But let me tell you this, I am not horrible. I was nothing but kind to you all. I was quiet. I didn't get in your way and I never picked a fight. I did absolutely nothing to you other than be a small part of your life. Forgive me if I've ever wronged you but I think I would remember.  I dreaded waking up and the long walk to school. I wanted to hide in the school toilets and cry my eyes out. That's where I cut myself most days to stop the tears because tears were weakness and bullies love weakness. They feel almost a thrill from it because it's another joke they can make. A whisper on the back row as one of them throws scrunched up pieces of paper into my frizzy hair. I'd find them when I got home and burst into tears. How could people be so cruel? Did I deserve it? It sure felt like I did.

Think about what you say to people. Think about a comment. Even if you are angry at that person and even if there is a valid reason to be. Will shouting or even joking help? No.