Beware the Plastics (2001-2011)
As I sit here writing this particular chapter, I find myself needing to remind my soul to speak as truthfully, and as precise as possible.
Because, honestly, this is something I am not entirely sure I should write about; but, at the same time, I have come to the conclusion through much thought, and even asking others who know about this if I should just leave it alone.
That is why this particular chapter is a little different, and it will take you over a ten year period.
The best I can describe what you are about to read would be insight in to my toxic experience with a particular person who had a much bigger impact on my life than I would typically care to admit.
I feel the lessons I learned from her are deep rooted enough that I would be leaving a big plot hole.
After all, this particular woman, or girl, at the time; would be the first and most memorable person who made me truly believe my life was not worth living, and that possibly the only way to survive life was to be as cruel to others as they were to you.
Rather than go into all the somewhat petty little details of moments brought to you by the worst person I had ever met at the time; I will focus more on how knowing them changed my outlook on life for the worse, then for the better, and for longer than any other one person ever made it their mission to make my life a living hell.
Why?
Because people may forget what you specifically said to them; but, they will never forget how you made them feel.
Full disclosure; a little over ten years ago I tried to express to this person exactly how their actions affected my life, and though I admit I used some colourful language at the time; this person took absolutely zero responsibility for her actions, and in fact, she had the nerve to say she thought it was weird that I was even still bothered by what she had done.
That, is because sometimes, people are unable to change.
It’s also true that in some peoples' life stories, we are all villains.
In our life story, they may be the ones we see as villains.
Life is ironic in that way.
You see, this particular person's actions stuck with me for years, and that is because we literally just couldn’t seem to get away from each other, even when I literally picked a University twelve hours away to try and get away from people just like her.
Here I am, getting a little ahead of myself though.
Let’s start from the beginning.
I met this person when we entered grade four at the age of nine. I will never forget this, because my original bully quickly became friends with her, and I remember my bully pointing me out to this girl and saying ‘That’s Chris, he’s gay and has a broken back; nobody is friends with him and we all make jokes about him, so you should totally do that too.’
If you recall what I said in my last post about us all having moments in life where we are faced with decisions that end up shaping who we are in ways we can never imagine?
Well, for this girl, that was one of her moments.
Sadly, she really chose to lean in to the advice; and, when my original bully moved away to another school that same year, this little girl from French Canada decided it was up to her to fill in the position of person who made my life unbearable at school- and let me tell you, she made the one with a pringle chip on her shoulder seem like easy mode on your least favourite video game.
So, before I continue, I need to make good on my promise to you that I will chip away at my own glass house whenever speaking to you. I will admit to you, that like many people, I believe forgiveness is important to moving on, and that being petty isn’t a great look.
Here’s the truth though.
We are all human, and no matter how much we grow, how much we move on, or how much we manage to forgive; sometimes, it’s easier said than done.
Honestly, since I did look for closure on this subject and never got it, I will admit that this person is one that I have learned to forget about over time; but, I will probably never completely forgive her.
I’m only human, after all.
Honestly, talking about this is one of my most triggering topics; because it was hurtful to me, and because I, for some time, changed who I was to fit in and I was at times just as cruel to others.
I do however only blame myself for taking the wrong lesson from this experience.
Though I am grateful I would eventually get it right.
The reason I will never truly forgive this person is because of how truly memorable and special her kind of unkindness was- and how it made me feel. It is also because, she was if nothing more a very bright girl, who knew better than to do what she chose to do to me all those years.
She also knew she was looked up to and almost feared by even her friends, and she used that power to make sure everyone parroted her thoughts about how worthless I was.
I will hand it to her, she truly was a genius in that aspect as well as in the classroom, where she always excelled, and, in fact, tore down anyone who even got a higher grade than she did.
So, I was far from the only person victimized by this Regina George.
At the time, and over the years, knowing her made me feel like I was maybe even better off dead. Based on my experience, she would tell you I am overreacting; but, I know from speaking with others who knew her like I did, that I am not exaggerating her character- at least not the parts of it she showed me.
Though, of course a kid may believe that when one of this persons main over-used lines was, ‘You’re a freak and you should go kill yourself; nobody loves you and they never will.’
When I say this was over-used, I mean she said it close to every-day that we knew each other, and, even worse, she made sure she had all of her friends would make me feel the same way.
I feel the need to clarify, that I do not believe there are many truly evil people in this world, and I do not see her as evil; but, I am at peace enough to admit that she played a big part in the destruction of my hope, and, that knowing her over time slowly made me believe that the only way to be accepted, was to be just as mean to people as she was.
Or to die.
That was a toxic way to view it; but, I was young, and so tired of being targeted, that at some point I thought becoming the aggressor would make me feel better.
I also never realized just how much this toxic outlook would affect the way I handled certain people years down the road with less kindness than I care to admit.
Or that not addressing how she made me feel properly would lead me to feeling worthless enough to accept an abusive marriage as a normal thing.
Like I said, this experience is vital to telling other parts of my story.
Please do not get me wrong, I do not blame her for any of the ways I changed for the worse for having known her; but, all these little words she said to me over the years did , possibly unknowingly on her part, led me to the wrong conclusion that I believed you had to be cruel to be loved, and that the only way to take the pressure of being bullied off myself, was maybe, to put it on others.
That in order to be loved by someone I had to accept that they would be cruel to me because I deserved it.
The worst part was that sometimes, she would be friendly, only to falsely make me believe I was being accepted one day, only to take all of it away the next.
For lack of a better comparison, she was my Regina George, and like Cady, I at one point thought I needed to be like her in order to survive.
Maybe it’s best put that she was the Regina George to my Janice Ian; because, I am self aware enough to know that for a while, I too, was a mean girl.
A grave mistake I regret to this day. I know that whenever she was cruel to me I would have done better to return her words with kindness, and, had I the maturity at the time, could’ve found out if maybe she herself was hurt in some way.
For that, and for many other things, I am sorry to her as well.
As I said, the things we say to people aren’t so well remembered; but, how we
made them feel, always is.
In this case I do remember some of the things she said, and what she did.
When I confronted her about this in university, she said I should get over it and that I was wrong to care anymore; but, I think she could never understand how hard it is to forgive someone who literally wished you dead on a daily basis- another reason I do not feel remorse in speaking plainly about my time knowing her.
At one point back in the day when we all had piczo websites she made a list of who was hot in class, and she posted a photo of me that she would’ve taken from a webcam chat with me without my permission, and she posted it as a joke to the group, making fun of how fat I was after my spinal fusions.
She also told me that I should’ve died during the operations because nobody would care or miss me. To make my existence feel even more pointless and unwanted, she had her best friend at the time erase my birthday off the class calendar one year so that nobody, not even the teacher, would wish me a happy birthday.
These actions amongst countless others, made me go home to bed at night and start to wish I wouldn’t wake up in the morning.
In fact, even when I went in for my surgeries, I wasn’t as scared of dying as I expected to be; because part of me was so tired of the world I was living in, and a part of me believed the poison she fed me daily with a grin on her face.
Maybe, dying was better.
Knowing this person mattered more than I would ever care to admit; because, I knew her at a time when all of our brains were forming our idea of life, and who we are.
During that time, I was made to believe I was nothing, and that I was better off never existing.
I obviously know better than that now.
I share this only to shed some light on just how harmful our words and actions can be to those we aim them at.
I didn’t know it at the time; but, I was being given a life lesson.
That just because you are treated poorly by others does not make it right for you to treat others poorly. I am not proud, though, now comfortable enough to admit that I took the opposite lesson at the time.
The thing was, this insecurity would follow me, all the way to an abusive marriage in 2015.
Even though I thought I had moved past the actions of a child and then young woman, I hadn’t dealt with the root of the issue; admitting how it made me feel, and learning to remind myself that she was dead wrong.
I do only blame myself for not addressing it properly and finding a way to move forward from it sooner.
I didn’t realize it at the time; that you should never allow someone else’s mistake to define who you are as a person.
That, was entirely on me, and not on her.
I do truly believe that she herself was probably a hurt little girl at some point in her life, and that maybe, she too thought that the only way to survive in a harsh world was to be just as cruel herself.
That children can be mean because they do not know any better. Though I also believe that she was bright, and did know better.
In that way I believe we were more similar than either of us would ever care to admit. She was my first and longest running lesson that hurt people hurt other people.
For a while, I did just as she might have been doing, and I passed my pain onto other people.
To any of those people in school that I was ever cruel to, I will repeat that I am so very sorry for becoming a part of that vicious cycle myself.
I know, I was sometimes a mean girl.
In fact, I know I have personally apologized to many of those people; but, I also know, that sometimes, what is said can not be truly forgiven and forgotten. We may be humans; but, we are also animals, and sometimes the high road is harder to take than others.
Like I said, I am not perfect either, and all I promise is that each day I will work to find ways to be better; but, I don’t aim to be perfect, since I have tried to close this chapter by speaking with this person who showed she clearly didn’t care to admit any wrongdoing, I am sorry that I am not entirely sorry about writing this.
She to this day has never admitted that all these little words she said to me were hurtful, or wrong in any way, and so, in writing this I feel a cathartic release of tension I have carried for longer than I should have let myself.
Why?
Because, she took things ten steps further than any other person I have met in my life, and she made me want to die.
Because of her, I almost did.
She may not have realized just how deep her words hurt at the time; but. was already scared of life due to my disabilities and all they made me face, and her actions made me feel like I would drown.
I also know she tried to pretend like this never happened when we went to University, even after I confronted her.
So, forgive me; but, I refuse to pretend that this never happened; and, as of right now, I am fine saying that I forgive her to an extent; but, I will never be able to forget what she made me feel.
I will also admit that at one point, her words almost succeeded, and I did attempt to take my own life because of them; I am so very glad that I chose to remember that she- to me- was nothing more than a living nightmare.
That I would one day wake up, and she would be gone from my life.
With that, another crack has formed on my glass house; and, I am perfectly okay in admitting that growth is the better option; but, sometimes a fuck you feels a hell of a lot better.
With that said, I admit I l respect her for the lessons she taught me over the years; but, she did make me want to kill myself- and, for that, I feel not sharing this would be a disservice to the truths I promised I would share, no matter how uncomfortable they may be.
Plot twist?
I thank her for what she taught me; because, when she made me feel weak, the biggest lesson I never knew I would learn was how to be stronger than even I could ever imagine.
Not that any of her actions are forgiven. If anything I survived in spite of all she did to destroy me. I thank her, for showing me what I am made of, and that, is something far more brave, beautiful, and capable of extraordinary things that she could never imagine.
That what she taught me would both lead me to some very dark places, and it would also help me survive far worse in my life.
In simplicity, I thank her for teaching me when to stand up for myself, and for my ability to better handle those who would underestimate me at later and extremely pivotal moments in my life.
I know she didn't intend it, and I didn't see this coming; but, having her in my life and the lessons she taught me would save me, more than once.
I promise to share more on that, later.
How else am I supposed to keep you coming back weekly.
I do know I need to end this in as much kindness as possible; and so I will also admit that I do not believe this particular girl was bad at heart; but, I believe that she, maybe like me, took pain that was given to her by others, and tried to lessened her own burden by giving it to me.
After all, we were children.
The reason I felt compelled to write this chapter was because of the huge impact she had on my life, and how much I had to learn about myself to unlearn what I allowed her to teach me.
One thing I do promise, is that I only share hard to speak of moments and realizations like this one; because they have been part of all these lessons I have learned, and a stark example of how all these little words we say to each other matter more than we can ever realize.
That all those toxic little words she fed me for years almost killed me.
Since she was never willing to admit it, I do not feel bad speaking a little of the very person who’s words and actions almost led me to not being here today.
I do however feel terrible that I chose the wrong reaction to this lesson at first.
After all, she never made me say cruel things to other people- I chose to do that out of pure ignorance and fear at the time, and for that, I hold only myself responsible.
Just as I am responsible for believing the words of an insecure little girl. A girl, who for all. I know, needed compassion she too wasn't receiving.
I am perfectly aware that, just like the people who hurt me, I for a time decided to hurt others in the same way- even though I knew it was wrong at my core- because, it was a distraction from my own pain.
I will also fully admit that as a teenager, I felt a little better any time I saw her feel bad about herself; because, at the time, I thought she deserved nothing good in life for the way she treated others, including myself.
Knowing that in admitting this, another crack has formed on my glass house.
Just as I promised I would.
Say Crack again?
Ok, here are a few more cracks.
Crack.
I admit that I wrongfully took solace in watching her arrogantly stand for the French award at or elementary school graduation, only for her to lose to a friend of mine.
That I laughed watching as she worked so hard to become prom queen, only to lose because her much kinder friend was voted in.
Yet the lesson to be kind, still evaded her.
Oh, and our senior year of high school, I used my position on the yearbook committee to make sure she showed up almost nowhere within its pages; because, she made me feel so invisible that I felt I had to do the same to her, even if only in one small way.
In fact, most of the committee agreed she dominated every other year book, and that it was time for some of the misfits to finally be included instead.
Am I proud of that to this day?
Fuck no.
But I sure as fuck do feel better admitting it out loud now. WHEW, weight_ lifted.
I mean, as she once said to me, we were kids, and kids do stupid and hurtful things.
In the end, I hurt her the way she hurt me, and I regret that, mostly...
To me, admitting when we do things that hurt others, apologizing for it, and working on yourself so that you can be the kind of person you would be proud to know, is all that matters.
That is why, if I can share any advice with anyone, please, always remember to choose kindness, even when the world tells you that hatred is easier. And also, sometimes all you can do, is tell those who hurt you to fuck off; but, save that for those very rare people.
For your Regina George.
That is the only way we can ever hope for change, and to break an ever vicious cycle.
To any other person who is made to feel like their life doesn’t matter, and that they should end their time here on earth because of the words of others, I beg you, do not listen to them; and always remember, that it does get better.
The one thing they never tell you though, is that it is entirely up to you to be an active part in making the world a better place for yourself, and for others.
To the girl who made it her mission to hurt me in ignorance, I apologize to you as well for returning your hatred in kind; when I should have done what I could to break that cycle earlier.
I'd like to make one thing perfectly clear, I blame only myself for how I chose to acted and for the wrong lessons I first learned having known her, and others like her. For choosing to let words and actions bother me.
If these words make anyone feel uncomfortable, I do not care.
Maybe they make you uncomfortable because, deep down, you too, know that sometimes we can all be mean, and less empathetic than we should be. And that includes me, as much as it includes you.
All I ask you to understand it that I was made to feel so uncomfortable for years.
So, I think you can handle one little blog post.
I would also be wrong if I didn't admit that this person wasn’t the only one to make me feel this way either; but, the rest of us have had amends, and the other few who haven’t really are just so plain and their one time hurtful insults so basic to me now- so… plain, in fact- that they aren’t even worth mentioning.
Keep in mind, if someone says you hurt them, you do not have the ground to stand on to tell them that you didn't.
That felt really good to get off my chest.
Like I said, I am not perfect.
And all these little words here are just another lesson I’ve learned.
In a way, this is my burn book, where I rip open a few old wounds in the hopes that they will help others that are going through a hard time, or feel lost- and In opening them, I set them on fire, as another heavy weight is lifted with each truth that is told.