onenitealone said:

OMG I see you both being friends..

My brother used to "play" with me, cos my sister was too young and I was his closest sibling. I was 3 years younger and I suppose I was his guinea pig..

the games he played.. I remember sat on the back step of our house with a wet sponge held to my nose - EVERY DAY - cos it was bleeding.. why my Mum never thought, why does nicole get so many nose bleeds, I dont know.. but I recall and my Mum now does too.. that every day I had a nose bleed and its cos my brother played bumpercars with me but bashed his elbows into my face.. prolly why I had problems with my nose later in life

but hey it was the 70s, we laughed it off, it was all fun

I remember he pissed me off so much I smashed all the windows of my Dads newly built greenhouse in, with a cricket bat

I remember he *had* to look after me and we went to play with a friend.. he told me to wait there.. by a bush.. and I waited.. and waited.. and waited..

he had run off with his friend

I hadnt a clue where I was
I had to walk so far and knock on a door and tell the old woman I was lost

she asked where I lived

and I didnt know, I was so upset

he used to drag me along the carpet by my little toes.. the pain, the agony.. all in the name of fun..


Fuck.. the memories..

REDFEATHERS said:

Bloody hell, Nicole. I can't tell you how sad that makes me feel reading that .. I am so sorry.

Again, I wish I didn't relate to that. Growing up, a few of my mates once offered to ambush my brother whilst he was out walking the dog. In the interests of safety I thought it best not to. And the Christmas before last, I went home briefly and told my mother for the first time in years that I loved her but that she must accept the situation between my brother/father and I. I doubt that will ever get resolved. Her reaction was sorta as if I had completely made up the issue. I just cannot fathom how she is unable to understand why I have no desire to speak to either of them. The end result is that, in terms of family relations, I am 'the bad guy'. Funny how things turn out.

It's weird... I'd like to think I have got beyond these things but, reading what you just wrote, it only reinforces what I am starting to realise - that a lot of my shyness, or reticence, is caused by my upbringing. The other day, one of my very best friends went to hug me and I flinched (sp?). Totally ridiculous - and I caught myself doing it - but it's like I still have this 'protective barrier' around me sometimes. Even though I hate that aspect of my character. I try not to show it - and, most of the time, I am totally unaware of it - but it does rear its' head sometimes. It's self-preservation, I guess.

Nicole... never mind the innocent thoughts, I'm probably going to bed bloody crying now. j/k Silly as this may sound, I am glad there is someone out there who understands.

For you, a BIG bunch of these ---->

Ax

lilgish said:

I know you're from NY. And if you must know, I went to Art & Design in High School. But I didn't experience so much of the hard times then. It was before that.

statuesqque said:

Well, what are big brothers 4?

NWF said:

Nah. I went to public schools in a Minneapolis suburb that was predominantly JEWISH. There was very, very little violence and everyone came out with an excellent education.

onenitealone said:

Wow! you lucky bugger!
You had your own bedroom!

Y must the teen years be so damn hard.

While there was little physical violence at my school, 5th and 6th grades became a miserable torture chamber of girls chasing the "out" kids around the playground, doing their best to humiliate and ostracize. I was a target of this briefly, but when I fought back verbally, they cooled their heels.

thedribbler said:

Hey Paul.

Well, my sister is 4 years older than me, my brother is 4 years older than her. It was only a 3 bedroomed house so, growing up, my sister and I shared a room; then, when she hit puberty, she had her own room and I shared with my brother. (She had his room). Then she went to college and I had her bedroom - I think I must have been about 13/14 maybe. Perhaps a little older. But that bedroom was my absolute sanctuary. The only thing that kept me sane, sometimes.

I don't want to seem like I'm bleating or something, though; I know people who have had MUCH tougher childhoods - it's all relative, really. But these things can have a big effect on people in later life, definitely.

onenitealone said:

sanctuary is very important, the home is where one is supposed to feel safe and shielded, i hear you totally. with me, because i was always rough and tumble the bruises were attributed to my naughtiness, and dismissed by everyone around me.

as i got older, i started going home later and later to avoid the rigmarol of making detours and trying to be out of sight out of mind. which obviously affected my studies, the fact that i never did any, wasn't a good foundation to build my life upon. staying out later, meant i had to occupy my bored and broke mind, befriending people who would eventually lead me astray. very soon i had a bad reputation and many run ins with the law.

no one ever questioned why i had gone down this route, it was just assumed that i was a bad child.

FunkMistress said:

you're lucky YOUR brother isn't plotting your demise, Buscemi style.







as for me, no. I remember consciously knowing that I'd rather get my ass kicked than let someone bully me or push me around, so I would just always fight back.



btw, sometimes I got my ass kicked.

Nah - one incident on the bus coming home, that's about it. It was more embarrassing than threatening

eraclito said:

Hey Lito.

I absolutely agree - that feeling of sanctuary is something that lives with me to this day. I don't know if I should admit this - it's not something I tend to do - but I feel quite awkward in public sometimes. Not that I'm a freak or anything - I hope not; I do an okay job of looking confident and sometimes I am, sometimes I'm not - just, occasionally, I can get very self-conscious. I think it comes from constantly having to look over your shoulder or something. Having that safe place to come home to is something that is still very important to me. Where I can pull down the shutters. I suspect there are a lot of people on this site who identify with that, perhaps.

I feel like I've come full-circle in some ways - my 20's were very much my crazy years: going out, meeting people, exploring things, getting laid, getting drunk, trying to live life to the max. Now, I feel like I've almost gone back to that 16 year old who likes a bit of peace and quiet and his own solitude, sometimes. Not in a cloistered way - that's impossible living with housemates, anyway - just I feel like that was the real 'me' all along. I just managed to find my own feet and, hopefully, obtained a bit of confidence and learned a few lessons along the way. I/we are all still learning, I'm sure - the process never stops.


I'm sorry hear you had such a tough time growing up, Lito. You strike me as such a strong character - it just goes to show you never know what people have been through or what experiences they've had. But I hope you've managed to find peace in yourself - which you seem to have - and that life is now finally treating you well. I'm not just saying this, I/we/the Org are all there to watch your back, don't forget.

Take care.



.
[Edited 4/1/07 4:36am]

eraclito said:

I think that's the only reason I'm able to still have some kind of relationship with my brother. That, and I adore his children, so if I want to be a part of their lives, he's gonna be there too. I am able to realize he was just a kid too, and no one was telling him how wrong it all was. We're still not close, and I know we never will be, though he wishes we were closer and has tried to get me to be. I just can't. I can be civil and I can visit his kids and our family on holidays and birthdays and such, but he even once sorta yelled at me for not being around more than that. I really just ignored it. And geeze, between his 4 kids, all of the holidays, my parents birthdays and such, I end up seeing them almost once a month if not more anyway. What does he expect?

I had an ex that told me as a kid, if his sister got bullied in some way by kids at school, his mother would take his sister back to the place of bully and make her fight the bully. He told me his mom taught them to don't take no shit off no one. He told me at one point a boy jacked is sister up and she threw threw a window. That's how they handled bullies

threw him THROUGH a window

My half sister was 5 years older than me and way bigger. She bullied me for a few years while she lived with us. She would chase me with a knife and I was constantly covered in bruises from her. she was a bit crazy and threatened me not to tell my parents. I told my mom when I was older after my mom and I had left my stepsister and dad and moved far away. My mom felt bad and said she had no idea it was going on though she was not surprised. My stepsister was and still is nothing but trouble.

When I was 12, I was slightly cross-eyed and not very athletic. I also had a cyst on my shoulder (which was eventually removed when I was 17) that looked like a hittle hump.
I was often called Quasimodo by the other kids. To add insult to injury, because I was Asian and grew up in the southern town, they would say the name in an exaggerated Asian Accent “oh oh, Dey Go Qaus-i-moto. Eyuk eyuk!!!”

The teasing was awful. It got worse and worse every year. And when I tried to explain that I was being bullied to my mom, she would get extremely angry with me and blame me for being weak and stupid.

So one day I decided to fight back. With all the courage I had in me, when one of my more frequent (actually daily) bullies pushed me in the hallway, I turned around and punched him as hard as I could. It was like punching a brick wall. Within minutes he and his friends, circled in on me like a pack of wolves and started to punch and kick me. I remember I started crying, when I saw blood coming out of my nose, and realized that fighting back, at least in my situation was absolutely useless. The crowd that gathered was cheering for the bullies who by now where kicking me at their leisure.

The bully (Brian) was suspended, but so was I. Several supposed “witnesses” said that I tried to pick a fight with him (remember, though I was pushed, I threw the first punch). When I was driven home, I remember crying inside (because if I cried to my mom, I would be punished), and having to face my dad. He told me he was so disappointed in me and that I’d never amount to anything. The bruises on my face and body did not heal for weeks (and my parents never took me to the hospital—I could have had internal bleeding).

Coming back to school was even tougher, because now Quasimoto got his ass beat, and that was even more fodder for jokes. I’m not sure how I survived my childhood, actually.












Ok, none of this story is true, but I kind of got caught up in the moment.

Imago said:

Was that your April Fools day story for the org?

Imago said:

I got teased a lot from elementary school up to my freshman year in high school (I'm a sophomore now.. an org young'un) all because I was "weird" and "spoke proper" and "used big words". Hell, one day, back in 8th grade, we were doing a debate over womens' rights back in the 1800's in my Social Studies class, and all because I used the words "ignorant" and "biased" in my speaking, some of the class starting teasing me ("Ooh, she's using big words".. BIG WORDS, MY ASS! ), so I asked Ms. Cunningham, "How does this class not know what 'ignorant' and 'biased' mean?.. they're in eighth grade!"). The class PITCHED A FUCKING FIT afterwards ("WAAH! WAAH! SHE CALLED ME STUPID!!! ".. and it didn't stop until the period was over) so Cunningham had to call the debate activity off. It was astounding to me.. all these 14-year-olds acting like kindergarteners.

I've never suffered any physical abuse, though, and teasing this year has been surprisingly minimal.

Imago said:

Your awful, I almost teared up.

reneGade20 said:

This movie was pretty good.

I escaped most of it, actually. Mostly because I made it very clear I didn't care. There was a spurt in middle school where everyone thought it would be fun to make fun of the fact I didn't have any breasts at all. I was even flatter back then than I am now.

Anyway, I was still under the illusion that they'd grow eventually back then so it didn't get to me much. As for being bullied... not really. Honestly though, where I grew up, there wasn't that much of it to be spoken of at all on any one. Small community and all that. The only people I really remember getting picked on were gay, which used to just burn me up.

eraclito said:

Sanctuary is important. I had 3 brothers and a sister, she had her own room from the start. Just like onenitealone we lived in a 3 bedroom house, except there were 7 people and a dog in my family.

Like onenitealone I always bear in mind that difficult childhood stories are very relative. I have travelled, so broadly speaking I can't really say that I suffered without making a clear comparison to someone else who I know very well.
But my close friends r usually quite suprised if they hear anything about my childhood.

AnckSuNamun said:

You watched that, I thought you were innocent and pure.

onenitealone said:

Damn it, onenitealone you're a such a nice guy! good on you.
This goes to show how tough kids can be. They can endure so much grief and still become fine human beings.

Yo eraclito, I know exactly where you're coming from (I think)
I wish you all the best.

I've known some people who've never suffered anything and 2 b honest more than most of these are often lacking in character/edge/balls, call it what you will.
Sometimes, they lack this thing 2 the extent that I have 2 question whether my stars were that unlucky.

Imago said:

onenitealone said:

ohh nooo.. dont worry about it, really.. I look back not in horror or sadness, just look at it as part of growing up.. we do speak to each other and he has been a rock for me now we are older.. I am sorry for you and the others here who do not speak to their siblings cos of their childhood bullying..

I understand when you say that your family wont/dont believe it and make you out to be the bad guy in all this, and for that my heart goes out to you

But my brother got his come uppance.. I remember my Grandad caught a field mouse and gave it to my sister to put in my brothers bed.. she also broke his thumb too, bending it right back, either in rage or in the game of "fun play"

You can teach your sisters too much of your own dirty tricks and watch them come straight back at you

lilgish said:

Surprise Surprise





It's not that brutal of a movie, well except how they killed the bully. That fact that it was based on a true story interested me.