Still effected by bullying 45+ years later

Still effected by bullying 45+ years later

A Story by Jeff
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A story of what I went through in Alabama in the 1970s, after moving there from Washington,DC.

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It was the 1960s. I first remember when the bullying started- we lived in a neighborhood where everyone knew each other; kids all knew each other, parents socialized; …everyone just knew everyone. so, VERY much to my shock and surprise in 4th grade a group of girls that were a part of this neighborhood just took it up as their project for the year to make me cry.....and, except for my great ( late) dad, I had no support at home. "Just get over it" or " you must have done something to make them mad”…..( many of the moms were friends with my “birth mom”).

 So began my eventual deep hatred for school which led to me dropping out of HS 4 times...twice in 12th grade. Grades were great. I could not take being there, so I would turn in work,take tests and leave....and then something would get to be too much and I would just give up. Once I got into college things did change a bit: no one said anything to my face when I left as long as I did the work. 

I was born and raised in Washington, D.C.., by very liberal parents, and both dad and I are ( were) socialists. He is and always will be my role model and hero, along with Dennis. Those two were so close dad considered Dennis more of a son than my two nasty brothers.

The crap I put up with in school...names, physical, mental- words, etc..and no adult support. I was such an outsider I had no "peers" to seek comfort from. Oddly, and I guess because I was from DC, by high school, if I was in REAL threat, for some reason almost all of the African Americans would come to my defense....quite effectively….. and then I was labeled a n.......- lover Yankee hippie queer...... Which led to actually being followed and tormented at home. 

I began hanging around the ice rink ( I skated since about 3 and it was the only rink in the south at the time!) because no one from school was ever there and the family that had the rink liked me. I felt safe. Safer than home. People knew where I lived. They even knew which window was mine. 


Flash forward to me at about 18.

Went to give a friend a lift home, went in and told the friend I was outside waiting and when I went out into the parking lot, someone (there were 3 guys) yelled something at me. I turned around to say "what" because I couldn't here them. By that time they were on me. Split my head open all the way down to my left eye - had to have it stitched back in, and this injury is one of the several things in my life that likely was one effect of me developing Parkinson's-( untreated head injuries) , knocked teeth loose, broke 2 ribs, I now have a destroyed spine- 8 either herniated or ruptured discs, bone spurs on spine, wrists, and one ankle....all back to that one night. 

My life, my self image, worth, my trust of others, my desire to be a part of society died that night. Had suicide been more "available" I'd probably be gone. It was a bit less obvious as a last resort choice than it is now.

I went on to have what appeared to others a happy, successful career running numerous very good, casual restaurants. Successful, loved by my staff and customers.....but I was terrified from the minute I left the house alone. I never shared that with anyone because I thought it was my fault. So, when "they" forced me to stop working some years ago, that suited me just fine. 

 At 26 ( 1983) I met my best friend who, 3 years later became my partner/ now husband. Things changed. Although my issues were/ are still present, I can actually go to the store without having a panic attack as long as Dennis is with me. I won't use the term shut- in because I do get out....I just dread it. Leaving my home is so stressful to me.

And it's been about 40 years. I can still remember the faces of my bullies and of the three attackers. If I see someone who resembles them, I can feel my heart rate increase. They were never caught- I was in the "Deep South"- where the haters still run the place. I don't think the police even really filed a report..." Just some hippie f****t got beat, who cares?".... Never got any "closure"... Sounds like a part of your story as I see it.

There were no support groups, no friends who really understood. "Friends" would even make jokes about it! ( WTF?).  I yearned for just one person that I would be able to share/ dump on, but just silence ( again, except for dad- my hero and role model). 

All plans I had for myself got tossed out the window the day those guys tried to kill me. 

( I was found unconscious in the parking lot). All I could focus on was "is this going to be what my life will be like?" And just spiral into deep depression. 

Again, no mentors, no support, no true believers out there.

Fast forward to when AIDS hit and we started burying our friends left and right by the dozens. And the first wave took out almost a whole generation of potential mentors to younger people. All the more reason to just, well, to just try to make a difference while dealing with such an incredible amount of loss. We did huge AIDS work, started a non profit for housing, food banks, caregivers, etc...but again, add in my past experiences and the really heavy lasting effect all of this loss took its toll, and I pulled back into my corner. And, due to the extreme ignorance and fear, gay men once again became targets. (And why do gay bars always seem to have entrances in dark alleys?�'. )

Anyway.... my goal in life has always boiled down to this: never be mean/ cruel. Even if you can't do everything, try to help in some way. Always remember that someone else is in a much worse situation than myself. I have this as part of my life philosophy; we are all in this together, and there are many who just do not have the decency or compassion  to care about others; they can only judge and hate. This means that those who do care ending up having to go "above and beyond” to make up for the non-participants.

I'm getting a bit preachy here. ( like the doc said- my brain is quite intact!). 

Does my what appears to be a laid back/ surrendering  attitude lead to being taken advantage of sometimes? Yes, but the alternative is to go through life assuming everyone is out to "get" me....again, in business, in life.....and that would be a really miserable life. I would just rather get screwed over every once in a while ( or just stay in as I usually do) than be so grumpy assuming everyone is out to get the better deal. this is one thing that told me you “ get it”; your spirit that you present is always so cheerful and positive in spite of your experiences. In that sense I am a to the bone optimist.

Have my trust issues been resolved? Not even close, but my belief structure and ethics have never been subject to outside influence. So, I do what I can from home, during election season I am incredibly active...from home. All of this tossed into one brain can be almost crippling sometimes....."gotta do this, but I don't see myself as capable or reliable on this, so who can I recruit?". And I often find myself either walking around in tears without realizing it, or waking up and realizing I was crying in my sleep; "it" just controls so many aspects of my life. I am fortunate to have my Dennis. Often, especially since dad died, I find having Dennis by my side is the only reason I'm still around: I could never put him through that. ( I actually hope I out-live him, to save him the grief).

The world needs to know that true, caring and compassionate  approaches are the only thing that works. Strength in numbers. Know you are not alone and that there are people of all ages, from all walks of life, that share your experiences, know how it feels. 

It slowed me down a bit, but it didn't stop me, and now I feel stronger for being able to tell my story in the hopes of letting others know "they are not alone"...and it does get better. Good days? Yes. Bad days? sure- we all have them, but as the image says, stick together and they can't win. 

© 2015 Jeff


Author's Note

Jeff
please ignore grammar. 4.3 GPA in english, but with Parkinson's I no longer proof my writing. I'm just happy to get through it! lol.

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Added on June 8, 2015
Last Updated on June 8, 2015
Tags: bullying, hate crimes, suicide, peer support, LGBTQ

Author

Jeff
Jeff

Las Cruces, NM



About
58 year old retired chef. Political/civil rights activist. DC native living in New Mexico desert with my partner/now husband of 28 years, our 4 dogs... Life is laid back finally. more..

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