Kids can be cruel...

As I grew older, I found out it wasn’t just adults who resented the way my illnesses apparently impacted their lives.

By the time I reached middle school, I was having horrible pain in my legs. My doctor shrugged them off as growing pains, but I distinctly remember sitting in class rubbing my shins together, trying not to cry. A few of my classmates would call me out and laugh, imitating my motions, thinking I was just squirming because I had to pee or something.

Being a shy, socially anxious kid, and not understanding why my peers would make fun of me just for being in pain, I never said much—to anyone. I remember biting the side of my hand once in music class to keep from crying, and one of the popular girls was sitting across from me (we were in a circle) and she was mimicking sucking her thumb and other babyish actions—as if that’s what I was doing.

There were several more incidents like this throughout the years, but I was able to become better at hiding my illness. Pretending to be fine when I was in severe pain. Not letting on to anyone but my friends that I was having any problems, and even to them I didn’t give much detail.

I was a good little soldier, going to church, doing my homework, not being disruptive in class...I was doing my best to be perfect.

Now, as any perfectionist knows, this type of behavior cannot be sustained for long. The stress of maintaining that flawless facade can break you down physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Outside of school I was crying almost non-stop. I was fighting with my mom constantly because she was just angry all the time, and I seriously felt like she didn’t love me anymore. I was really close with my dad—I always had been—but my relationship with my older sister was nonexistent(it pretty much had been since I started Kindergarten), and my mom had actually screamed at me one night when I was up crying that I was tearing our family apart.

I know now that it wasn’t really her fault. She was sick too(as I mentioned in my first blog, she was suffering from uterine fibroid). I’m sure I didn’t make life easy for her, acting out and making the fighting worse. We were all going through a lot.

Tensions with kids at school really got bad in junior high. I don’t know what it is about prepubescent kids and cruelty, but they’ve just about mastered it.

At first everything was fine. I had my core group of friends: Steph, Sam, and Laura. Laura was my best friend, and we had sleepovers every weekend. We alternated houses, and I thought things were going great. We did the typical things: junk food, movies, homework, and listened to our favorite band—Savage Garden (Boy did I just age myself).

One weekend we were chilling at her house, listening to Savage Garden (their new album had just come out) and we were naming off songs that we liked. I told her my favorite song (honestly can’t remember which one it was now) and she said she favored Two Beds and a Coffee Machine. It’s not the best one on there, but to be supportive of her weird choice I said “yea, I like that one too...” because I am a good friend.

She got a little huffy and said “actually I think I like...” and named a couple other strange songs, and I said “yea sure, those too”, wondering what her deal was.

She was really stand-offish and cranky the rest of the time I was there, and I was happy to leave. We usually talked on the phone at least once when we weren’t together, but she didn’t call and I didn’t want to bother her if she was going through something. I IM’d her that I hoped she had a good weekend (there I go, aging myself again...oh AOL...) and that I’d see her at school Monday. I did not get a response.

Monday was an intense day to say the least. I woke up to my very first period, and the *worst* pain I’ve ever had. I felt clammy and nauseated. I was so shaky that I had a hard time getting out of bed.

I had no idea what to do. Those stupid health videos from the 80’s do not prepare you for having a debilitating reproductive disorder (#endometriosis ). I tried to ask my sister how to use tampons (all she had in the house) but she wouldn’t help me, she said it was gross. (It’s not like I wanted her to put it in for me)*

I went to school, still shaking and with my awkwardly half-inserted feminine product, which hurt when I moved or sat down. I was feeling like I was going to pass out at this point. I didn’t even make it through my first class.

I went to the nurse’s office and explained what was going on. She gave me some Ibuprofin and a pad, but I ended up having to go home because I felt so awful.

I ran into Laura in the hallway, and told her what was going on. To my shock and disappointment, she rolled her eyes and said “whatever”, then she stalked off. I was too sick and tired to really deal with what had just happened, so I went home (I only lived about three blocks away) and went to bed.

I called my mom at work and told her what had happened to me and what I needed, but I didn’t say anything about Laura.

The next day in school I could feel a change in my friends when I walked into my first class. I sat down next to Sam, and she gathered up her stuff and moved a few rows away from me. I was about to ask her what her problem was, but the bell rang.

In my next class I had with Steph, she was the same way. I was getting the cold shoulder from everyone. I didn’t get it.

At lunch I sat down at our usual table (we always sat at the end of these long folding picnic tables). The second I sat down with my tray, they all looked at each other and stood up in unison and walked away. Everyone in the lunch room was staring at me as I sat there stunned. People started laughing. None of it made sense.

I finally got up without eating and left the lunch room, humiliated and defeated. Unfortunately Mean Girls hadn’t come out yet, so I missed my opportunity to eat lunch in the bathroom like a lonely loser.

This behavior went on for weeks. Other kids in my class that I’d never even spoken to for more than five minutes or for a group assignment started to pile on as well. In the meantime, I was still having a very hard time with IBS, leg pain, and now my undiagnosed (it was suggested by an OBGYN at this time but wouldn’t be officially diagnosed for almost 7 years) endometriosis.

Things came to a head when we had to have study hall in a small group in the library. (The ceiling in the study hall room had literally fallen in on me and a couple other students so they had to tape it off until it was fixed. It was also full of asbestos, so that was fun.) No one was sitting with me, as per usual. I was actually studying, so I tried not to let it get to me and just focus on my book.

Suddenly everyone was laughing. Quietly at first, then it was an uproar. Papers were being passed around. One packet was stapled together, and had the title “Species Report” typed at the top. One of the guys in my class who considered himself the class clown, I won’t name him here, had written a satirical report about some of the girls in our class. I was in it, but from what I can remember it didn’t say anything all that bad about me. It was poorly written and plagiarized a lot from the Simpsons and other popular series and video games like Resident Evil, but for some reason my classmates ate it up and thought it was hilarious anyway.

The other pieces of paper were notes I had written back and forth with my friends. Private information. There wasn’t anything incriminating, necessarily, but they did make fun of how I had asked if they had any Midol or how I’d complained about cramps. They were making fun of my handwriting; the fact that I usually asked “how is class?” Pretty much anything and everything I did.

I had finally had enough. I exploded. All the rage, the frustration, the disappointment, and the confusion came boiling out. I grabbed the ‘report’ and threw it in the boy’s face. I told him exactly what I thought of it, that it was stupid, hurtful, not funny. I told everyone else they were idiots that had no idea what they were talking about.

Being extremely angry, anxious, and hurt, I wasn’t the best at thinking on the fly, and as I was leaving the library I shouted something stupid like “if murder wasn’t against the law, I would!” Which just garnered more laughter—finally something worth mocking me over.

I did finally confront my friends. That was a hard thing to do, since they hadn’t talked to me in weeks. At the time I’d assumed they finally grew some types of consciences, but when I got a little older I learned that my sister threatened to kill them if they didn’t stop bullying me.

It turns out Sam had been getting closer to Laura as friends and was jealous that we were so close, so instead of just saying “hey, can I hang out with you guys?” Or asking if she could have her spend the night at her house one weekend or something, she had started dropping little nasty comments about me, like how I was copying Laura all the time, or how it must be so annoying to always have me around.

And instead of just telling me she needed some space, Laura listened to Sam and let those little comments needle under skin, until she actually took everything I said and did to be copying her, or to be the most annoying thing she’d ever heard. And then she roped Steph in too, and eventually my whole class followed suit.

They eventually apologized, but I know it was just because of my sister, and even though I was ignorant of that fact at the time, it took a long time for me to trust any friends again. I was never friends with Sam again. I barely hung out with Laura. Steph and I were in color-guard and went to the same church, so we stayed pretty close. But our friendship wasn’t ever the same.

———

There are a lot of details in this post that may not seem important, but they all culminate to show something that I’ve learned: people, even children, will almost always fear and mock what they don’t understand.

Ever since I’ve been sick, and as I’ve become sicker with age, I’ve been “othered” by each group I’ve been in. Whether it’s work or friends, It doesn’t always start out as malicious. Maybe it’s not even intentionally malicious. But some people can only put up with other people’s problems for so long. I will have many more examples of this along the way.

* While my mother and I had a tumultuous relationship when I was a child, we are extremely close now. She is the foundation which I stand on.

* My sister and I have had a complicated relationship. I will explain more in later posts. We have a good relationship now but it did take work.

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