I didn't know what else to do in this situation. It is as direct a repeat of the things that happened in elementary and middle school as could be accomplished without time travel. For the last few weeks I have been mistreated abominably by someone who I thought was a friend. Yeah, not a huge surprise to anyone who knows the roommate situation. But I am not talking about her. Although that has been miserable. No, this was a boy. And as was typical of the playground bullies who tried to force my face through the chain link fence like Play Dough through a Fun Factory, I have been humiliated on a regular basis because someone wanted to prove a point. Point being: "no one is ever going to want you."
That is a paraphrase. The Valentine Massacre of 2010 was all I needed to know that I was a fool. And every time I have been spoken to since that fact has been reinforced. The words are cold, biting and angry. But Friday there was an element of barbarism that I had not thought were possible in this individual. When these kinds of things happened in school they were obvious, a slug in the gut for giving a Valentine Card even though it was mandated by classroom policy. If I looked at a boy in whatever manner fit the arbitrary definitions of "wrong way" I was scraped into the pavement. And if anyone ever leveled a false accusation that I might "like" a boy, a was rewarded for someone else's lie with virulent insults. So I am no stranger to the words and tone that I have been met with in the last few weeks. My coping mechanism in those days was to make myself as unnoticable as possible.
I would find a quite place to hide on the playground and write or color. I would go home for recess if the teachers weren't looking. Or, after they caught on to my tactics, i would find reasons to be in the library for recess instead of outside. It was during these times that sister Pelagia tried to get me to subscribe to the life of a saint. But that is for another story. The longer it continued, the more people who became involved (see "Setting the Stage") the more I withdrew into myself. I would not participate in school activities and I grew to mistrust anyone who reached out to me to be my friend... talk about biting the hand that feeds! Sheesh did I have a good set of fangs.
After my 20 year class reunion and 10 years of job shift imposed isolation, I realized that I couldn't live without people. No one really can. Withdrawl is not an answer to pain. It did provide me with all the time in the world to learn who I am and revel in being a geek. But you don't get alot of socialization. In fact a goodly protion of who you could be becomes stiffled with that kind of isloation. And I missed out on a lot of good times with the classmates who grew up to be reallly decent and caringf people inspite of everything we went through.
In this new situation I realized I could not isolate myself again. Even though the defense mechanisms shut me down for a long time and I kept fantasising about the gloriously scathing retorts and monologues I'd like to delver to my tormenter, I couldn't do it. I've been standing like an idiot and taking all there is to take. I've kept my mouth shut about the real culprits in the situation, not pointing out that a good portion of the rumors started with him, that most people were holding him accountable to things he said and not teasing him about the troll down the hall having a crush on him. I've been ranted at. I've been ignored... LOUDLY. I've been talked over, around and about in the third person in my presence. But the last straw was a display, as I said, of utter barbarism. There was only one thing to do. And I did it.
I spent all day composing a Captain Picard lecturing Wesley on the Qualities of Starfleet Personnel styled monologue. I practiced my Captain Janeway No Bullshit Stance and the Captain Sisko Sneer of Condescension. My blood weakened the third time I was ignored. And fearing that I wouldn't have the great Stewart delivery to match the Picard words, I settled for the inspired. Seizing an oportunity, I sent a messenger with the following:
"I get it! I'm not stupid. He doesn't want to like me. He doesn't want anyone to think he likes me. And he doesn't want me to like him. I get it! Tell him he can quit acting like a jerk."
I'd like to think that if I had done this in 3rd grade that nothing I've already written about would have transpired. I'd like to think that if I had done this in the 3rd grade I would have found the backbone I've been missing for so long. But there are things I would have had to know in 3rd grade that would have made this an effective means of dealing with individuals who would have me be complicit in their self deception. And I just know that my 8 year old self could not have endured learning the lesson.
Ya know what? I'd been silent this long because I've been brought up to believe that you should remain silent if you can not say anything nice. I didn't use any of the slings and arrows I had aimed at him. I outted him... pointed out that I saw his ruse, made the accurate accusation and said my peace with brevity. I wish this were a chick flick because then he would be forced to acknowledge (by way of a dilgent scriptwriter) my accuracy and his feelings. He would have to acknowledge his own self defense mechanisms which are the true culprit in this farcical caper. And he would have grown from the knowledge that realization affords. But it isn't a chick flick. He isn't going to make any declarations of love. And I'm not goingto be blind to the way he over played his hand. It is real life. And as such, I get to feel better because I am no longer internalizing someone else's problem. I get to reapply my No Pets No Kids No Man No Mess mantra and I can begin the process of forgetting about the what could have been.
He has been polite since this incident. Things will never be cordial as they had been. But I at least am not going to get my head chewed off every time I see him. Now... if I could just fix things at work as easily.
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