by Band Back Together | Aug 20, 2015 | Adult Bullying, Bullying, Childhood Bullying, Fear, Workplace Bullying |
When I was in school, I became a target for bullying. I feel like the main reason I was bullied was because I was white. Most of my bullies were African/Black. I am in no way a racist. I’ve had more black friends than white.
One day in gym class, my friend Robbie and I were sitting in the gym and a group of students came up to us. There were five of them, and they were skipping class. They started calling us names, hitting us, and even tried to get us to fight each other. We tried to leave, but they wouldn’t let us. They just kept pushing us. Eventually, they got tired and left.
The next year, the gym teacher would pay Robbie and me with candy for cleaning under the bleachers. A different group of students than before thought it would be funny to choke me with a belt. The coach was downstairs, and had no idea that while he was gone, they were trying to hang me with a belt under the bleachers.
The most recent bullying happened two or three years ago, at work. I was the only white guy on the day maintenance crew. I did the best job I could, without a complaint from anyone. The night maintenance crew took over at 10:00. One of the guys in night maintenance would target me, and me only. He would say the bathrooms weren’t clean, so he would make me go back and clean them again – even going so far as to make me pick up broken glass with my bare hands. The other night workers would just stand there, laughing.
I’m very shy. I’ve never been in a fight with anyone. I grew up in a Christian home, where I was taught to love others. But the guy at work just kept pushing me. I found myself hating him. Thankfully, he transferred to another store, so I don’t have to deal with him anymore.
All of my life, I have been bullied by nothing but blacks. I feel like there is a tug-of-war going on inside of me. I want to be friendly and outgoing, but all the bullying in my past has left its mark. I feel like it is holding me back from who I want to be. I don’t want to feel fear and hatred.
I’m terribly sorry if I have offend anyone with my words.
by Band Back Together | Aug 15, 2015 | Anger, Anxiety, Family, Fear, Feelings, Loneliness, Prenatal (Antenatal) Depression, Sadness, Stress |
Maybe it’s not common, maybe it’s commonly forgotten, maybe I’ll feel too ashamed to even post this, but pregnancy isn’t what I expected.
Now don’t get me wrong, I KNEW what to expect, the nausea and fatigue, the moodiness and what not, but I wasn’t prepared.
I wasn’t prepared to shy away from my friends and family, to want nothing but my bed and books. I guess I’m still kinda me, but I am a me I haven’t been for a long time, a me I thought I grew out of. It’s not that I’m not happy, because I couldn’t feel more love for this child or for my husband that I do now, it’s just that I am also sad. I am tired and sick and rather than get better as I get closer to my second trimester it’s gotten worse.
Am I going to be like my mom? 40 weeks of throwing up just because the wind blew in my face? Dear God, I hope not.
The worst part is that I can’t see the end of this. I’m not miserable mentally, but physically I am and it’s draining the reserves I have in my brain to separate my logic and my emotions.
Part of it is that I am, frankly, a little tired of worrying about everyone’s opinions, preparing myself for arguments before they have the chance to arise. It’s to the point I don’t even want to talk to anyone about babies, birth, shots, slings, ANYTHING.
Unfortunately, I care what people think, and caring what they think but knowing that I am going to do what I think is best in the end, causes me to take things personally and feel a lot of unnecessary anger. Anger makes me tired.
It’ll pass and in a few weeks I’ll be laughing at this post, calling myself dramatic and eating 14 cinnamon rolls because that’s my new favorite pastime. At least, I fucking hope so.
Until then, this is me being honest, and begging you not to say “I told you so.”
by Band Back Together | Aug 13, 2015 | Anxiety, Depression, Fear, Healing From A Rape or Sexual Asault, Rape/Sexual Assault, Violence |
This only happened to me a few weeks ago, and I am still trying to find ways of coping with what happened to me. I am hoping that sharing my story and writing it out will also help my mental state at the moment.
I already suffered with severe anxiety and depression before this had happened so have already suffered through some traumatic experiences already. However, this is my story.
I am 20, a university student, and generally enjoy my life. Even though I do live with mental health issues I never really let them over-rule my life.
Being students, we decided to go on a night out. I wasn’t drinking as my friend was already excessively drunk, and I was keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. A couple of hours later, we were still out enjoying our night. He had found some lad to dance with and spent the majority of his evening with this boy and me. I went to the toilet, trusting that he would wait for me, so that we could get a taxi home. I came out of the toilet and he had gone, I searched both rooms in the club to try and find him or any other of the group of friends I was out with. I couldn’t see any of them.
I went outside to see if anyone was outside smoking. No one was in sight there either. I then went to call everyone I was with to try and find someone, so I remained outside. I started to panic slightly. Absolutely no one was answering their phones and most of their phones were turned off.
I again began to panic. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get home as one of my friends had my bank card with them. I had no cash on me either. I then began to text my friend, who hadn’t come out with us, to ask if he could pick me up. He agreed, but said he was going to be over an hour. At this point, it was around 5am, and everyone started to leave the club. I was standing at the end of the street, where I told my friend I would meet him when he came to pick me up.
A male approached me as I was having a cigarette to ask if he could have one. I said yes, and he stuck around to talk. He seemed genuinely lovely. He then realized that I was alone and began getting friendly. I politely asked him not to, but he kept on insisting that it was fine. He then asked if I wanted to go back to his house. I again politely declined the offer, as I was waiting for my friend to pick me up.
A taxi then pulled up shortly afterwards. He walked back over to me, I thought to say goodbye, but instead, he said to me I had no choice as he wasn’t leaving me alone. When I tried to push him away, he picked me up and threw me into the taxi. In the area that we were in, the taxi drivers tend to ignore their clients, regardless of what was happening, so I knew I would get no help from the driver.
We then arrived at his house, and I had no idea where we were, I felt really scared. I thought about running away from him when we got out of the taxi, but I wouldn’t know where to run to or where to go. I also started panicking about how I would get away.
He then proceeded to drag me into his house. He walked me to the living room and told me to sit on the sofa and not move until he came back. While he was gone, I started looking for his address to let my friend know where to pick me up. His cat was staring at me whilst I was doing this. I found a letter and really quickly sent a text to my friend. He returned, and I hid my phone as quickly as I could. He asked me what I was doing, and I didn’t reply.
He then threw me onto his sofa and took my underwear and skirt off. He gagged me with a tie that he had just gone to get, so that I couldn’t scream or shout. After around 10 minutes, he stopped and told me to follow him to his bedroom. He told me that if I didn’t do what he said, he was going to hurt me, so I followed his instructions. He continued to rape me in his bedroom. After around another 20 minutes, he told me to clean myself up and leave. I ran into the living room to put on my clothes, and just at that moment, my friend called me to say he was outside. I tried to act completely normal, like nothing had happened, when I left the house and got into my friends car.
I continued pretending like nothing had happened until I spoke to my tutor. She could see something wasn’t quite right. I had become really angry and extremely quiet. I didn’t cry when I told her what had happened. I still haven’t cried. I have become emotionally numb and tried to block out this situation.
I don’t know how to face this.
by Band Back Together | Aug 5, 2015 | Abandonment, Abuse, Bullying, Depression, Domestic Abuse, Fear, Intimate Partner Rape, Psychological Manipulation, Rape/Sexual Assault, Trust, Unemployment |
I am a victim of domestic violence and almost every form of intimate partner abuse that you can name.
Through my therapy, I have heard of “White Knight Syndrome.” This is when a person has a naturally good nature and wants to protect people in danger and people in need. My ex knew that I was an instinctively good person and would help those that I could, the elderly lady that fell off a bus, the disabled man that asked for help to get up the stairs, someone being attacked on the street, a victim of domestic violence, a victim of rape.
She knew, and she took advantage of it. She claimed she was raped one night. She claimed that someone was bullying her because she was a woman. She said that she was unfairly sacked because her boss was racist. She would say anything she could to try and get a reaction out of me, anything to prove to herself that she had control over me by having me fix whatever problem she created.
If I didn’t beat up the rapist, she would say I was controlling.
If I didn’t side with her against her bullying friend, she would say I wasn’t letting her go out.
If I didn’t have a go at her boss for being racist, I was called the racist.
None of this added up to me. Her friends would call me and say I should let her go out, even though she was out with them every week. My friends started threatening to beat me up for something I apparantly did to her whilst I was at work. People started threatening me and attacking me all the time. When I’d ask her if she knew what was happening, she’d deny it.
This is where I knew she was lying.
Not once, not ever, in all times I was beaten did I get a hug, or a kiss, or any empathy, sympathy, or pity from her. When I walked in with my leg nearly broken, she shrugged it off. I went to the hospital alone. When I was threatened, she would just turn the other way and go back to watching something on TV. I gave up telling her. I would either be ignored, or worse, she would deliberately walk away and call me weak for being upset, depressed, down, low.
I was more scared of telling her that I was battered with a pole through fear that this would give her satisfaction. I was terrified of telling her that someone nearly broke my leg. Instead, I told her I fell over. I kept hiding the injuries caused by what she was doing to me. I was hiding the number of times she’d had me battered for something as simple as asking her to sweep up whilst I cooked and cleaned the dishes.
Now when someone tells me that they have been raped, I worry that they might be lying, and I’m going to be manipulated again. I worry I will find myself stuck in a place where I know my heart tells me to protect this person, but my mind is telling me to keep myself safe.
For a very long time, I was running from pillar to post trying to protect the person that I loved, without destroying my own life. I eventually started letting the police deal with it.
That’s when the truth came out.
She wasn’t raped. She arranged to meet up with him because I wasn’t dominant enough.
She wasn’t wrongfully sacked by a racist boss. She had her final disciplinary action because she refused to do her job countless times, and she damaged clients’ property.
She wasn’t being bullied. She wanted to hide the fact that she had stolen money.
The list goes on and on.
Anyone can be in danger of false accusations. The people like me who have suffered forced penetration (that’s what they call it when a man is drugged and raped by a woman) don’t come forward until it’s too late. None of us have the courage to face disbelief from others for what we have suffered.
To all the women out there who are victims of rape, I am sorry for you all.
To all the men who are victims of domestic violence, I am sorry for you all.
I know how hard it is to fear disbelief because I have faced disbelief.
I have had to relive my abuse over and over again with every time I tell someone what happened. Over and over again, I feel scared that the person I’m telling is going to point at me, laugh at me. I’m scared that they will disbelieve me even, when shown the evidence, even when hearing the truth from my abuser, even after becoming a victim of it themselves.
by Band Back Together | Jul 29, 2015 | Child Abuse, Child Sexual Abuse, Fear, Parent Loss |
When I was a little kid, my father would hit me. My mum didn’t care and didn’t want to listen when I tried talking to her about it. I was growing up, and around the age of 11, it became worse. He started touching me inappropriately, and it was terrifying. I couldn’t tell anyone because I was scared that they would judge me. A year or 2 later, my parents separated. I never wanted to see my dad again, I hated him so much. After a while, I told myself that I would go and see him when I would turn 18.
June 2014, I was 17 years old, and I was in the middle of my exams when I got a call. It was someone telling me about my real dad, who had been really sick for over a year and he was in hospital. I told myself I HAD to go, but I was so scared. I asked someone close to me to come with me and I went to see him. I spent hours in the hospital every day, sitting by his side and talking to him. I have no idea if he was able to hear me, but I still tried. It was so painful. That week, on June 20th, he passed away.
I have been telling myself that I should have visited him before, when he was still in good health. The only memories I have from him now are when he was sick, in a hospital bed.
I still think about him a lot and somehow I have forgiven him for what he did to me. I try to think about the good times with him, when I was very small. He inspired me to start playing music, to start singing, and he taught me that people should be forgiven, people deserve a second chance before it’s too late.
by Band Back Together | Jul 15, 2015 | A Letter I Can't Send, Abandonment, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Boundaries, Family, Fear, Grief, Help For Grief And Grieving, How To Help A Friend Whose Child Is Seriously Ill, Loss, Pediatric Caregiver, Pediatric Mental Illness, Relational Aggression, Sadness, Stress, Teen Bullying, Trauma, Trust |
You have broken my heart;
you have cut me to the bone;
you have stabbed me in the back;
you have endangered my children;
you have stolen from me;
you have threatened to kill me and it seems every time we talk you spew out nothing but lies.
I failed you. As the person who brought you into this world, it was my convoluted job to make you appropriate for society.
If you had been an only child, would it have been different? If you had been an only child, would I have given you more leeway so I did not sacrifice your siblings humiliation, safety and discontent?
We moved for you. It was the area, the neighborhood, the school, the doctors. I did everything and gave all in hope that the problem wasn’t really you.
Doctors, therapists, counselors, hospitals; things a mother should never have to say about her child, I said.
In the end, I failed you.
For many years, I was a mighty warrior set out to ensure your health and happiness, but you broke my spirit and I gave up. I want so badly to let you in, but the price is so high and I am emotionally bankrupt.
You deserved a stronger mother, one who could stay in the fight, one who could be more understanding, one who could battle for more than 19 years. I am so sorry you ended up with me, who tried to make you fit in a cookie-cutter mold. I still have no clue what kind of mom could have helped you.
It wasn’t me.
I battled uphill to mend my broken life while trying to protect yours. The spiraling, all-consuming, soul-sucking, constantly being kicked and punched, that was all beyond me.
I’m sorry I am so broken and weak that I can’t afford to be hurt again. Everyone in your world has disconnected over the years in the simple and often subconscious act of self-preservation. But in everyone’s life, there should be at least one constant, one person you know will always be there. You don’t even have that.
I hurt you.
I insulted you.
I embarrassed you.
I punished you.
I hospitalized you.
I let you down.
I lied to you.
I threatened you.
I had you arrested.
I closed my door to you.
I laughed at you.
I walked away….
I didn’t ever deserve you, and you certainly didn’t deserve me.
