Here Is A Picture: One Of The First People To Bully Me, Making A Facebook Post About How She’s Staunchly

here is a picture: one of the first people to bully me, making a facebook post about how she’s staunchly anti-bully.

what could i say? you ruined my fucking life, you know that, right? i almost - thank god only almost - took myself off this globe. i almost threw away my one precious life. fuck you. you don’t deserve 56 likes and 64 heart replies. 

what could i say? it’s almost the end of a decade. and i’m doing better than ever. and i’m okay. despite what you did, i’m okay. i’m happy and i’m doing what i love. i still have trouble making friends because of you, but at least i make some of them, in the end. 

what could i say except - god, i hope this true. i hope you grew up like i did and you got better like i did and now you’re teaching people not to make the mistakes you did. i hope you raise your kids right. i hope you say - i did the wrong thing. it was easy, and it made me feel powerful when i was powerless, but it was the wrong thing to do. i hope you say to yourself - one day i’ll apologize. it’s okay if you don’t, i don’t really need you to. 

god, i hope you didn’t tuck what you did into a back pocket as “youthful indiscretion.” i hope you aren’t bringing that same cruelty to your workplace, teaching other people it’s okay to be that way. i hope you don’t hang out with the mean ones, i hope you don’t laugh at the ones who are falling, i hope you know exactly how close you came to being the end of a life.

here is a picture: i realize in this moment that she probably don’t remember anything about me. that i was just someone who was weird and ugly and it’s not bullying to point out the undiagnosed symptoms of adhd. it’s not bullying because i deserved it for being different - it was character building by process of slow decay.

in another life, i get on ellen. or dr. phil. or somebody. and they bring her out and they say: here is the hand you spat into, how does it feel to see her, knowing that what you left in her still sometimes ruptures. i don’t know what she would say. maybe i’m sorry. maybe i’m glad you’re okay. maybe who the fuck are you anyway? who knows.

i write in the comments a whole speech that i delete. it isn’t good victimhood to refuse to move on. it isn’t good victimhood to be angry still. it isn’t good. i got therapy, i got my life together. 

good luck out there. i don’t know what you’re doing. but i hope you’re someone better.