Trigger warning for frank discussion of bullying and PTSD.
When I was young, I was bullied. A lot. Maybe not more than other kids who’ve been bullied, but I was definitely the target of my grade for many years running in my tiny grade school and middle school. It started to let up a bit in high school after I attacked one of my bullies physically. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but I had been at my wits’ end that there were exactly zero consequences for harassing me for years on end.
I was wrong to attack that person. And yet, I was able to breathe easier afterward.
Continue reading “Sympathy for the devil”