The full story in 1 go.... Very Long
Time to tell.
I am going to start at the beginning and just post a bit at time, Lets see how I go.
I transferred to another school for the start of grade 4. I had some sort of delayed development stuff and couldn't read or write. The other kids found out when I was asked to get up in front of the class and read something. I was teased all day about it, even the teacher made jokes at me. I arrived home from school on the first day crying, I told my parents that I hated that school and that I never wanted to go back. I was told to give it some time. I did this but at least weekly I would come home in tears saying how much I hated that school. As my reading improved, the kids started picking on my messy writing which was a result of a collapsed lung at birth; I have poor fine motor control.
I was taken out of class for special English and often kept in at lunchtime to finish work. When I was out, I was teased about being spastic and stupid. I was regularly surrounded by several boys all pushing and shoving.
When I repeated how everyone hated me, I was told that I was exaggerating and that maybe I wasn't trying hard enough
This first year wasn't violent, just pushing and shoving and the occasional punch. I often complained to my parents or the teachers and the bullies would get into trouble. They would then take it out on me for dobbing.
In grade five, they got more physical. Instead of just pushing and shoving, they would take it in turns to punch me in the stomach. Normally, they wouldn't stop until I was on the ground curled up in a ball. They would then call me a sook and a wimp I Had learnt to read and write so they started picking on my creativity (Lego models, imagination, creativity) the bullies also picked on me because of my Parents car + Job (my mum was a teacher and my father was a minister/ lecturer in prosthetics) or the toys that I had. I tried to make jokes about the toys but it didn't really work.
In grade five, I Got my first actual bashing. I was bashed because I tried to stand up for myself. I had had enough and pushed back. The bullies were so incensed that I had pushed one of them and attacked. I was punched from everywhere; anyone within hitting distance was having a swing. I tried to defend myself but had no chance. I ended up on the ground. The beating didn't stop there, they began kicking. I think that a teacher was nearby because they suddenly vanished. I was taken to the sick bay by some older kids and was cleaned up. I couldn't stop shaking; I just sat there and cried. When I got home, I told my parents what had happened and they went ape. They wrote a letter of complaint to the school. The principal came into the class and red the riot act, he demanded to know who was involved and a couple stepped forward and took the blame. They were given lines and threatened with the strap if they did it again. That lunchtime, I was surrounded by most of the grade. They called me a dobber and bashed me again. That was the day that I realised that it wasn't worth me telling anymore. I even stoped saying how much I hated that school. I resolved to try to fit in. I attempted to play with them at lunch times when I wasn't in remedial English. This was just another chance for them to rough me up with excessive tackling and hip & shouldering. I was even thrown to the ground by my hair. When I fumbled the ball because I had just been crunched, I would also cop the verbal abuse. I soon gave up and just sat by myself at lunch time or played with the younger kids.
I was bashed about half a dozen times that year.
My father had made me some insoles for my shoes and once, they fell out of my shoes when I was changing for sport. This was also used against me. They said it proved that I was a spastic
This could trigger
This was the year when everything stepped up a level, they weren't happy with just pushing me around and calling me names. They discovered that there were much better ways of hurting me, ways that wouldn't show.
I went to the toilet one lunch time and they followed me in, I was Just starting to go when they kidney punched me. They dragged me into the cubicle and pinned my arms beside me and stuffed my head into the toilet. They punched me in the stomach at the same time that they flushing the toilet. They flushed it several times only letting me up when I was choking. They kicked me as I knelt on the floor coughing up the water then realised that I had peed my pants and started in on me for it (They reminded me of this constantly). I sat in the cubicle for the rest of lunch time trying to dry of in between fits of crying. The bell went and I just sat there. Finally I got up the courage to go back to class. I was given a detention for being late and asked why I was wet. I said that I had slipped over in a puddle and was trying to dry myself off. It wasn't long and I received this treatment again, I quickly learned to keep another shirt in my bag just in case and to fake choking. Other times, they would follow me in and then just punch me down until I was lying in the trough.
One day I was walking along when three or four boys came the other way, as we passed I expected them to grab me or something but they just walked past, I let my guard down as the last boy came past, just in time for him to sink a punch into my stomach. I dropped to the ground. The boys surrounded me and called me a wimp. They repeated this tactic several times until I wised up. Every time they walked past me, I would tense my stomach. I thought that I had beaten them until one day instead of just punching me; one of them kneed me in the groin. As I doubled over, the others pushed me up against the wall and they punched me a few more times.I was allowed to fall to the floor and they started calling me a sook
They would jump on me in the yard and drag me to the ground. They would then pull my pants off and throw them up a tree or over the fence. I would often be bashed like this or made to run around before being allowed to retrieve my clothes.
They were getting smarter I was rarely punched in the face and I could hide the body bruising from anyone.I was terrified of my parents walking in whilst I was in the shower. On the odd occasion that I came home with a black eye, I would ride it off as an accident, the rare occasion that it was too obvious, a couple of them would take the blame and cop the lines.
One day they took my pants and then held me down whilst they wiped me with branches. They laughed as I cried, they called me a cry baby. When they had finished, they kicked me in the balls and left me curled up crying.
I was often lined up on the oval with a high tackle or just crunched from behind. Often I was hurt with these but I had learnt that I needed to get up quickly or I would be attacked. Often I struggled to do this only to be slammed back down a minute later. I hate watching AFL, every time I see a high tackle, I cringe.
I don't think there was a week where I wasn't left in pain
I started stealing money from dad's workpants pocket or mums purse so that I could buy food for the bullies in an effort to win them over. When I was caught I was asked why I was stealing. There was no way I could actually tell them the truth, I couldn't risk them writing more letters to the school. Of course I was punished for stealing. What hurt the most was that I felt let down and betrayed by my parents. Often I had tried to tell them what was happening but I choked and I lacked the necessary words.
I am going to leave it here. Year 7 was the worst for me, i am going to need some time to get it down.
Ok I have managed to get down half of year 7. I was going to just do a turm at a time but Just kept going.
Here we go
Trigger violence, SA
Again everything stepped up a level, the hitting got harder, the bashings more regular and things like taking my pants often turned into full stripping. All the teasing got nastier and more personal like telling people that I was Gay and stuff like that
I knew I was in for a bad year when I was bashed the first day back. It was just what I call a basic beating. It wasn't long and I copped it again.
I am going to run this a term at a time.
I started going home on the train. They found that this was a really good time to get me. I was often told what they had in store for me after school in the locker room or at the train station. They were going the other way on the train but would miss their train so that they could get me.
Any time I went near the oval, I was planted so I avoided going there unless I was told to. It was just the usual punch me down and steal my pants shit from grade 6.
I had learnt that if they wanted me to do something then I either did it or got bashed until I did it. I still refused to do some things but ended up doing them anyway.
Within the first couple of weeks I was boxed into the locker room, they shoved my head into my locker, dacked me and started punching. Someone was whacking my bum with something that was stinging above the punching. I was regularly getting boxed in like this. Often they would kick my locker door shut while I had my hands in there.
I began to sit by myself at lunch time, my few friends had learned that if they were with me then they suffered. I would normally just read, I still wasn't good at it but I enjoyed it. One day I was sitting there reading when I copped a ball in the face, apparently I was playing brandy. I was branded about every second or third shot, normally in the face, back or between the legs.
We had sport once a week and I was often pushed out the change room doors naked. They would flick me with their towels and throw my clothes out the window or into the toilet. I would deliberately wait until the next class started before running into the change rooms and changing. It was just better to cop the lines or detention for being late.
I was jumped as I reached the train station and dragged down into the underpass. They did the usual and threw my clothes up onto the station when I finally went to get them, there were girls there, I couldn't go through with it so I hid in the bushes until the train came.
One day I was told that they wanted me to play cricket. I was told to field and they left me alone. A stray ball came my way and I caught it meaning that I could bat. I quickly worked out their plan, they were bowling body and head shots at me with the cricket ball. I found these relatively easy to hit because I knew where they were aimed. After a couple of good hits, they were getting angry with me. I was freight trained from behind. I was badly winded and it took me a bit of time to get up. When I finally did get up, I was grabbed by the hair and thrown back down. Before I could protect myself, I was kicked in the balls. My pants were again taken and they knelt down on top of me and began punching. I was crying and I begged them to stop.
I said I would do anything that they wanted me to do if they would just stop hurting me. They said that they liked hurting me. One of them said to roll me over. He pulled a wicket out of the ground and shoved it up my bum. It hurt like hell and I cried harder. Then someone rammed it in further and I screamed. They laughed and kept pushing me around with their feet as I tried to pull it out. My bum was bleeding and they began to tease me saying that I had my period. I finally got it out and tried to stand up I managed to get to all fours and someone kicked me in the bum and I went down again. They dumped my pants on top of me and went back to playing cricket.
They started doing this to me in the locker room as well with pens and sticks and whatever else they could find.
The last day of school, they punched my legs until they buckled. They told me that it was so that I couldn't run away like a wimp after school. I knew that they had something in store for me and I kept dreaming up all sorts of possibilities.
By home time, I was a real mess, I hid in the toilets for ages and got in trouble for being real late home.
They often took my legs out like that when they had something special planned, so I couldn't run. I don't know why they did though, I was never a good runner and by far the slowest in the grade.
Once again, I was bashed first day back, before school had even started.
The locker room stuff continued and I began taking my bag to the last class so that I could run out and get to the first train. Often I would come out of the class and find that my bag had been taken to the office because we weren't allowed to take them to class I would cop the lines off the principal and then try to delay going to the station for as long as I could.
Not long into term 2 we had swimming. In the change room afterwards, I was taking my bathers off when someone flicked me with a towel. I jumped and stumbled. Others began to flick me as well and I was rolling around on the floor trying to avoid it. Someone managed to get me between the legs and I screamed. They then pinned me down and continued to whip me. I was still screaming so someone covered my head with a towel. When they stopped, I couldn't stop crying, it took me ages to get up and I felt dizzy I was covered in welts all down my stomach and legs. I was bleeding from some of them. My groin was swollen. I don't know how I managed to get dressed. I couldn't wear undies for a couple of days. I somehow got to the next class but ended up in the sick bay, I told them that I had a real bad stomach ache. That night I pissed blood. Seeing it, I collapsed beside the toilet and cried for ages. The next day, I faked a sicky and didn't have to go to school.
I started hiding in the library but they would just cause a disruption and get me kicked out. I tried explaining to the librarian that I wasn't with them but she didn't care.
They continued to get me on the station but instead of dragging me into the underpass, they would just do it on the platform. Often people would look on but wouldn't do anything. The station master once caught them and made them give my clothes back. But he went back into his office and they started right back in.
I was told to strip on the station and stand there until the train had passed. I said no and they bashed me every day until I said I would do it. I don't know why they did this, they would have striped me anyway. When the train had passed, they threw my clothes over the fence and went to catch their train.
Towards the end of term 2, the SA started. I have posted what happened but here it is in context.
I was walking back from school sports when another kid came up behind me and started saying, "I love you, I want to have sex with you" He was holding my arm. I ignored him because that was often the type of thing they would do before bashing me. I kept walking and he kept on repeating himself. He flashed himself at me and asked if I wanted to touch it. I ignored him but he kept going. He shoved his hand down my pants and grabbed me. I pushed him away but he came back and kept trying to get me again. Finally I was able to break away and I ran. When I stopped running, I began to shake and cry. A couple of days later, he came up to me in the locker room whilst I had my arms full. Pushing me into the locker, He put his hands down my pants again and rubbed himself up and down me. He said that if I didn't fight him then he would be my friend. I pushed out and get away. He kept doing this until I told him to F*ck off. A couple of days later, I was bashed again. He came and helped me up and took me to the sick bay and told the nurse that I had fallen over playing brandy. The nurse patched me up and left us alone in the room. He undid my pants and got me out and began playing with me. I told him to leave me alone and again he repeated that he wouldn't help bash me if I let him do what I want.
I think that it was then that I realised that there was nothing that I could do to stop it, I knew that he had organised for me to be bashed and would do it again until I let him. I was already in pain and it was just easier, I lay back down and let him do what he wanted. He took my hand and put it down his pants and told me to play with him. After that, he would often find me in the playground and take me somewhere where we were alone. He would tell me to pull my pants down followed by his own and I would have to play with him and let him play with me. He often talked about getting me to do other things when we had more time.
Term 3 started right where term 2 left off, I arrived at school on the first day and went and hid until after the bell had gone.
The usual locker room stuff started pretty quickly and I began to avoid them more and more. I started going to my locker between periods 5 and 6. I would grab what I needed for homework and run back to class before I got into trouble. I still had the problem of by bag being taken to the Principals office. I would often get home and realise that I had brought home the wrong books and couldn't do the home work. I was able to bluff my way out of this for a while but mum soon got sick of my excuses and she started belting me with one of dad's belts.
I started altering notes from the teachers but got caught out real quick and punished more.
This only made it worse and I kept trying to get the right stuff but kept stuffing up. One time I told mum that they had taken my homework and she called me a liar and I got punished extra.
I used to get on the train knowing that I didn't have the right stuff and that I would get belted for it when I got home. I would stew over this all the way home and almost throw up when I got there.
At school I wasn't being bashed as much because I was with him and he knew good hiding places.
People started asking me why I was isolating myself but I couldn't tell them. I started spending time in my room playing with my lego or out on my bike. I would often ride flat out until my legs cramped and just lie down beside the bike track and cry. I found that when I rode, I felt a little better about myself, like I was out riding it.
At school I would just start crying for no reason and everyone would tease me.
I begged teachers not to write notes home and that I would do the homework at lunchtime but they refused and then told me not to me a sook because I would cry.
I felt sort of hollow, I just copped everything from everywhere.
I discovered that there were a couple of lanes that I could duck down to get to the station without being seen by the other kids. I managed t avoid the station bashings for a while before someone must have seen which way I went. Again my legs were taken out at lunch time in preparation. I knew that they had something planned for after school but I thought I could outsmart them by going down the laneways. As usual, I looked around to see if anyone was watching then ducked down. I didn't get far before I heard them following. I ran as best I could but my legs were hurting and I was slow anyway. I was shoved into the fence and thrown to the ground. I curled up in a ball expecting to be kicked but nothing happened, they just stood around me. I don't know how long we stayed like that but eventually, I looked up and I copped a stream of piss in the face. The others also began pissing on me. When they had finished, they just walked off down the lane together laughing.
Out of everything that ever happened to me, This is the one that got me the most, I couldn't stop shaking for ages. I tore my shirt off and just sat against the fence crying. I got home at about 6 and got into trouble for being so late, I said that there had been trouble with the train. It didn't matter and I was belted and sent to my room. I started thinking about it again and began crying more. I curled up on my bed and cried myself to sleep.
I was really jumpy for ages after it and people started asking me what was wrong.
I had a teacher that kept me in after class one day and really pushed me to tell her what was happening. I couldn't tell her and I was crying again. She kept pushing me and finally I was more angry than upset and I said "
Those cunts pissed on me
I was told that I was not to use that sort of language, she said that there was no excuse for it. She said that she was prepared to listen to me when I was willing to discuss my problem maturely. I tried to argue with her and probably dropped the "Cbomb" a couple of more times but I ended up with a detention. I never talked to her about it again.
That night I when I got home, I rode myself into the ground, I was so angry. I ended up across town when the street lights came on and I knew that I would again get into trouble. I didn't want to go home but I finally did and copped the punishment for being late and getting another detention, I was banned from my bike for a month.
I spent more time alone and avoided talking to anyone. I stopped praying to god because he wasn't listening to me.
That is the worst of it over. I am still going to write more but it is really only just repeating stuff that was already happening.
As I have already said, there wasn't really anything new happening now, just repeats of old shit. I was sort of just existing and I would cry at the drop of a hat. I felt so alone and began doing stupid things to try to win some friends. I really only exceeded in hurting myself more.
I was feeling sick all the time. I went to bed and cried like I usually did. I couldn't stop crying and I was feeling really low. I decided that it was time to end it. I got one of the knives that I was collecting and tried to stab myself, I was so scared I kept thinking that if I mucked up I would be in more trouble. My mum must have heard me crying because she came into my room. I hid the knife under the doona and tried to stop crying before she could see.
She asked me what was wrong and I tried to tell her. I couldn't get any more than I hate that school out. She told me that I should be glad to go to that school, They were working real hard to be able to pay the fees and it would give me all sorts of opportunities. I should be thankful because lots of other boys wouldn't get the opportunity. I kept saying you don't understand and she would ask what don't I understand, I kept trying to tell her but couldn't. I started getting angry and told her that she didn't care, She told me I was being stupid. I told her that I wouldn't go back to that school She told me that I didn't have a choice. I pulled the knife back out I told her that I would kill myself if I had to go back there. She held my hand and talked to me, I calmed down a bit and stupidly allowed her to take the knife, she said that she had no idea that it was that bad and that If I gave it one more week and it didn't improve then she would take me out. She never asked me how it was going though. And I never got taken out of that school.
I sort of crashed on like this for ages, I would get really depressed and want to die. I started to take stupid risks on the bike, I was too scared to try to kill myself. I thought that if I did it in an accident then It would be different. I regularly crashed my bike and injured myself. It didn't matter to me because at least I was in control of the pain. I also found that I could write off other bruises as part of the accident.
The same stuff kept happening but I joined the school Judo club and was only on the train station on Fridays. Judo also helped me because I could control my falls and get up quickly and avoid getting kicked as often. I would still get hurt and still got punched to the ground but at least I wasn't getting planted as much. I still kept to myself and rode myself into the ground.
I got in trouble for taking a noose to school, I got punished when I got home and Mum said that she thought that stuff had finished, I told her that she never listened and that nothing had changed, she told me that I was lying and making it up
Year 9 had finally learnt to hold most of my emotion in so that I didn't break down as often. I started developing a sense of humour so that people outside of school would think of me as the funny one, and wouldn't expect anything serious from me.
I started obsessing about protecting myself. I was already collecting weapons and my favourite movie was, still is Mad max,2,3 (the road warrior in USA)I saw him as a survivor, I could really relate to the story.
I was doing judo 4 nights a week and really threw myself into it. I was asked to help instruct the juniors. The Judo club was a school thing so I could miss the locker rooms and train stations after school on these nights and pick my books up afterwards. I was still contending with the lunchtime shit but it was about a third of what was happening in Year 7. I was also allot tougher and just didn't seem to get hurt as bad.
One night after school I was picked and one of them got into the wrong position and I threw him. I dumped him hard and he had trouble getting up. The others pounded me and when he got up, he really hammered into me and I was left in the gutter semi conscious. They didn't stop bashing me but I think they were a bit careful and would try to box me in more before hitting me.
The Main SA just stopped dead when we moved to the senior campus.
There was another Boy that came after me, I have never really thought if what he did as SA but thinking back, it probably was. He would come into the library and wait until I was down one of the isles before walking up behind me and rubbing himself up and down my backside. He would fiddle with me through my pants until I was hard then just walk off. This only happened a few times.
I was still very unhappy but No one around would have guessed. I projected a really rough and tumble personality but I was still really messed up underneath. I spent more and more time on my bike. I felt free on the bike, I would just blast away and stop when my legs were cramping. I religiously went riding every day no matter what. I was planted at lunch once time and had real trouble getting up, my chest was burning and I couldn't breathe. I think I broke a rib That night I still went for a ride, I made it all the way to the end of the street before I had to rest. I managed to get to the local school a couple of blocks away and I just sat there. I did this for the next couple of weeks before I could ride much further.
On the days that I was on the platform, they would try to make up for lost time, I reckon I lost my pants about every second time and they used to love tearing my shirt off. I had watched mum sow the buttons on enough times so I learned to do it and used to sow them on really weakly so that the material never tore. Once on the train, I would simply sow them back on and no one would ever know. I suppose I became really resourceful with stuff like that, Any bruises that I couldn't write off were simply Judo or I stacked my bike. I got really good at thinking on my feet as well, I often used to get in trouble because I couldn't make up a good lie but I found I got really good at improvising.
I got asked once about a massive bruise on my back from where I had been hit with a hockey stick. I just said that it happened at Judo, I was queried on exactly how and I said I fell on a Shinni (Bamboo sword) I would launched into an elaborate description and the lie was swallowed. No one bothered with the details and I never pressed. I also had a talent for remembering the lies that I told so that I could repeat them and not get caught out.
Being able to think on my feet, I was also able to fire back insults which was a good way of getting myself bashed again. I didn't stop though, I got a few good laughs (and detentions) for my comebacks and to me it was like being accepted.
OK, like I have said, i had developed a bit if a sense of humour, more likely bcame a smartares. I was still getting smacked around but I got alot of laught in class by doing stupid things. they would often egged me on. I started getting lots of detentions after school and at lunchtime. I was really getting in crap at home for it but I didn't care. Told a teacher to go R**t a Goat in class and copped the cane for it. I loved the cain, they never sent stuff home to your parents when you got it and did they seriously think they could hurt me with tha little thing?? The cain was easy.
told a few more teachers where to get off and stuff. eventually got kicked out of the school. Woo Hoo.
It was so wiered, Mum kept saying You are such a nice kid, I just can't imagine you doing something like that. Hello, get your head out of the sand! I just said "well I told you I hated that school" I think I realy stumped her because there was no punishment when I got home. Yeah she yelled at me and grounded me for ages but No real punishment. And as for grounding, I used to go out the window at night.
I went to a new school which was the complete opposite to the where I had been. This school was a bit violent with gangs and alot of Vietnameese kids. They had rules though and if you stuck to their rules you were left alone. I was fine and only ever copped a punch as a warning, too easy.
My parents broke up and I went with my dad, I had to go to another school which was back over the other side of town. I didn't know how to act around the kids and they started poking shit again. I also made a fool of myself in front of the girls and upset their boyfriends. Getting back into that sort of enviroment, I just clammed up, I also thought that my parents breakup had been my fault.
I sort of had this big hole where I used to do Judo and got taken to the school counciler for doing stupid things, Told them how often I thought about killing myelf and they sort of just rode it off as me being upset over my parents divorce.
I found an advert for Ninjutsu and went to have a look, I signed up on the first night and paied with me own money. I told dad that I was doing it and he was cool with it, as much as he had a choice. I had a realy good instructor and learned alot under him. I ended up where i really wanted to go back and get some payback but He had taught me how tough it was not to do so.
Somewhere along the way, he told me that what we were doing wasn't real Ninjutsu, just freestyle Karate with a fancy name. He gave me an address and said, this is the real stuff. I went and watched, it was great but I had loyalties where I was.
Year 11 again
If it isn't kind of obvious, I failed yr 11 and had to repeat.
My mother got me into a school near her work. I had to ride 17 km each way to school.
On the first day of school, I rode there like I usually rode. I smoked past the school bus and became an instant hit with the other kids. It was real funny the way I was the same person but here I had friends and noone gave me s*it They also found out I was doing Ninjutsu (I finally went to the real stuff, AWSOME)
it was wiered because they would try to sucker punch me (not hard, just to see if they could get through my guard)
I think I really came out of my shell that first year, I managed to get into the region swimming championships in Freestyle, Backstroke and Butterfly. I managed fourth in the backstroke! I was often on the oval at lunch time playing kick to kick, I got freight trained once and that shook me badly but the next I knew the kid was appologising for it. I sort of realy belonged to the group, we used to play fight and all and they never deliberately did anything to hurt me.
I don't know how long I had it for but there was sort of a growing uneasiness in me, I kept looking for the sucker punch that never came.
I suppose I should explain.
Back then they would often be nice to me, sort of become my friend and encourage me to join in with them. this was usually when they had something real big planned and it was a good way to get me onto the oval or wherever else they wanted. I realised what they were doing eventually but I just couldn't stay away. I just thought I might might make it this time.
Anyway, I started expecting something like this to happen and was real scared of having my friends taken away from me again. Better to leave them behind rather than have them taken from me. I started withdrawing again. I was still watching Mad max daily , that is what he would have done. I stil had my bike and Ninjutsu and I hit them extra hard but evereything else I just sort of dropped. I stopped going to the oval and started going to the library by myself. I sort of ended up back at the stage where I was almost in tears all the time but I was able to hide them until I was alone.
I ended up failing year 12 but still got into Uni??? to do recreation. didn't stick at it though ended up working as a swim instructor and running school holiday programs.
That is about the sum of things, that is school for me. I suppose that is also why I have had so much trouble coming back to Uni, it is sort of the same enviroment and I think I am still expecting that Sucker punch.