Thursday 9 May 2013

becoming by pushing past the past.

This is literally the longest I have ever spent writing a blog post as I started writing this back in 2012 according to this entry and it has changed and edited multiple times, yet I edited it and added to it anyways and today is the day I post it.

I do what I do because I cannot do otherwise, this is the only thing that remains from the original post, well that and the title. This particular post jumped and changed six or seven times, in both topic and content since I originally started to write it. I started to write this during a time of growth for me and the last long while has been furthering that growth.

I decided to make this about my growing up.

I grew up and always knew something was different, something that I couldn't explain to myself, so I ignored it. I am the youngest of the four kids. My sister and I are the closest in age, and then I have an older sister and then an Older brother whom is the oldest of us four. I always enjoyed hanging out with my older sister when I was younger. (and oddly enough we would play house with our cousins etc and I would be the family dog when I could.)

As the years passed me by, several things become apparent, one of which is that I struggle with several disabilities. I grew up going to speech therapy, I grew up learning to type on a computer, and with the help of a special instructor, because my paws don't work the way there were supposed to, they are faulty as is my paw-eye coordination. My memory is bad, at least when it comes to certain things, names, dates, etc. I wasn't physically strong, because I had heart surgery shortly after I was born and that impacted my left arm, due to mass scar tissue that resides beneath due to that, and a few other things.

Needless to say I grew up with very few friends outside of my bio-family because when I would make them, they would ditch me for the cooler kids when the opportunity arose.. (I have also moved about twelve times in my life..) so I learned to amuse myself and with that came my imagination, because I learned that the name-called followed me wherever I went from school to school. So I learned to watch people, and I found myself reading more novels, because in those books, I found my escape, from my life into one that was just all around better.

Then I hit middle school (grade 6 to be exact.) and we moved from Sudbury, Ontario to Mississauga Ontario.. I was once again the new kid.. Not only was I the new kid, I was also seen as slow and stupid by my peers. I'm sure I made a wonderful first impression to them in that regard, (I didn't know that Boston was not a Province at the time. I didn't even know what that word meant. as unlike my peers, I had yet to learn any geography, outside of Sudbury that is..)

So I was bullied a lot by quite a few students, Grade 6 became grade 7.. I found myself once again under fire. For you see, back in grade 3 I had been exempt from French, because my speech was barely understandable when it came to English never mind French. Grade 7 they stuck me in the class with the schools French teacher as my homeroom teacher and she never liked me, although neither did the kids.

My family has never been well off, we do alright, but we never had a ton of money. It was as if my very presence in their school, was an insult because I was an odd kid, who enjoyed reading, who came from a family that didn't have much money, and never chased the girls with the other boys.. While all my classmates seemed to be well off and had the nicer things in life.

Then it happened, an event that isn't very clear in my brain any more, because I have pushed past it, but I still haven't completely recovered, even today.

I had been beat up and harassed all throughout my life at this point, by quite a few people. well on this particular evening one of them hit me in the face and I went home to mom, and instead of being able to hide this from her, (although she knew it was going on and would comfort me, she never saw any of the evidence until this point) so she did what she did to protect me and got the police involved..

I talked to the police officer with mom and gave him my statement.. as I had grown up believing that Adults would protect kids.

The very next day the police officer showed up and got me to a point to a picture of the students who slapped me or beating me up.. I pointed out two of the students that had been beating me up (although it wasn't the pair that had actually slapped me.. it was two others.) The Teacher basically flat out called me a liar to my face in front of the Police officer, because her students would never do something like bully another student, blah blah blah and that I was a liar..

the police reprimanded the kids and then sent us back to class with the Teacher... as soon as we got back to class the teacher had the gather the students around in a circle and literally had every single student tell me why, he or she didn't like me... Every word by everyone of my fellow students was like a dagger and the Teacher finished off by saying that she thought that I should just go kill myself. I was emotionally numb, by that time and had shut down to keep out the pain from their words out, yet they still got in.

Today the thought of his happening to someone brings a deep burning rage to my heart, and these days I can see it clearly for what it was. .

I went home devastated, needless to say, my belief in adults and my fellow kids was completely shattered. I stopped caring because I didn't know how to cope, except to turn that which caused me pain away.. Mom and Dad were enraged and I started a long downward spiral into depression, which it took me years to come out of.

I stopped trusting everyone, my being able to read people got pushed to the front along with cold calculations, and I pushed everyone away. (I suspect that the Teacher and principle both got fired for that. as they were both replaced the next year, and I never heard what happened to them.)

8- though the end of high-school I survived by not caring. I got beat up, because I was still a freak in their eyes. I got beat up a lot, but I just didn't care about them, they were obsticles in my way that I could and would avoid. Then during my last year of high school. I made something I had not had since grade 8, which was friends and the depression lifted a little bit.. We had all ended up talking to each other and our sexualities ended up coming out and I admitted to myself the first time I was gay..

We all lost track of each other as the school year ended and we graduated and we went our separate ways.

I moved back to Sudbury to live with my youngest older sister and I lived with her and her 2 year old daughter, while I did a pointless college certificate, before moving back to Mississauga. it was that year or perhaps the year after that I went back to Sudbury and met Master and the rest of the leather family for the first time.


pupkalen