Dealing with hatred

It’s 11:36 PM.

Perfect time to make a blog post, am I right?

I have been thinking a lot about the concept of hatred and self-hate. This has been something I have dealt with it a lot in my life. I have felt hatred towards me, and I have given a lot of hatred in return. I’m not proud of it, and it is hard to admit a flaw about me. But hey, part of this journey is admitting EVERYTHING. Even the dirty stuff.

This is a story that will help some people understand why I was so hateful. Trigger warnings, it deals with a lot of bullying and can be upsetting. And also, I NEVER talk about this stuff, because I was ashamed. I’m coming clean, so if you have anything nasty to say about this, consider yourself blocked already. I won’t say names, just because this isn’t about “revenge” or spitefulness.

Let’s go back 10 years. 13 years old. In 7th/8th grade. I’m in school, sitting in the back of the class, trying to stay invisible so I wasn’t the target of some insulting joke. I’m in math class, hating every minute of it (Sorry Coach!) The other girls in my class are sitting close to each other, chatting about whatever they were talking about. The boys are probably talking about something gross because let’s admit it, junior high boys are disgusting. I’ve got my few friends close by. I don’t remember, but I’m standing up for some reason, and I went to lean my knee down on the chair next to me. One of the boys behind me grabbed my chair and moved it out of my way. My knee came slamming down on the cold, hard cement floor. My teeth ground together, pain shot up from my leg, up my spine, and into the back of my head, and in shock, I fell sideways and sprawled out on the floor. The whole class is quiet before several giggles erupted.

Now let me tell you, I’m a natural born klutz. I can find something to trip on while walking on a flat, stable surface with nothing in my way. I have stumbled, twisted an ankle, jammed my fingers, and bonked my head on a lot of things. But this was so much pain. Everything was on fire. My tongue was probably bleeding from biting down on it. My eyes were blurry, from the tears, and my whole body was aching.

My teacher finally asked, “Andrea, are you okay?”

Yes lady, I just had the blowouts to end all blowouts. I’m in so much pain. I’m sprawled out on the floor. I’m perfect.

Grabbing my temples, I tried to string the words together. In my mind, I was trying to say something like, “My knee feels like a knife is jammed in it, I can seriously feel my back spasming, and my head is pounding.”

But instead, I said something like this, “It feels like a concussion!”

I’ve had a mild concussion before. Two actually. Once, when I was little and slipped around a wet pool from running, and the second one from a car crash where I was hit head-on. (My head slammed against the window.) Intense pain, your head feels like it is swimming, and you really just want to close your eyes and forget the pain for a bit.

I tried to come to my senses to tell the teacher exactly what was wrong with me because honestly, I was worried. But suddenly, a whole room erupted into loud laughter, and some of the kids started yelling insulting things, like that I was stupid, that you can’t get a concussion in your knee, etc. My teacher even chuckled along with them. Seriously? She did nothing to help me, nor did she punish the student who did this to me. Everyone went along their day while I was hurting.

If you are wondering, this teacher is now the counselor at that school. God help those kids.

This is certainly not the first time something like this happened to me. For some reason, I was always the target for the negativity that came along with a small town, country school with a limited mindset. But man, I’ve had so much built up anger from that day. I couldn’t believe that my classmates were a serious bunch of jerks who did this to others, or that my teacher was so incompetent that she didn’t put a stop to the bullying problem that school had. Nobody seemed to care about me, especially my mental health. I developed so many walls, that I pushed people away at times, limited contact with others, sat in my bedroom hating myself for not being a thin, beautiful popular girl and not in their group. I put myself through the torture of trying out for the cheerleading squad and trying to play sports because that is what the other popular girls did. And surprise, surprise, I sucked at that too. I dealt with this crap for twelve LONG years.

Fast forward to 2014, I’m finally graduated.

Fast forward to 2018, I was still so bitter to people, so afraid that I was going to be bullied again, even though I’m a grown ass adult with a job and bills to pay.

FINALLY, I’ve had a breakthrough. I’m talking like a ray of Heaven’s light was shining down on me and the angels were singing.

Andi, why are you so full of hate? Has this done anything for you? You sit in your bed, not accomplishing your goals in life, staring at Instagram and seeing those people being successful and happy in their life. Jealousy was a huge portion in my life (I’ll save that for another post). I hated everyone from that school that was doing so much better than me. Yet, I did nothing to help myself. Classic story, am I right?

From then on, something inside clicked. Why bother spending this much energy being so hateful? Let them live their lives! It is time for me to live MY LIFE. Stop being lazy Andi, write your book already! Keep with these blog posts, funny enough, they have made me feel so much better. Work hard, get that paycheck, get to Hawaii (or wherever the hubby and I want to go.) Move ON with your life.

Let me tell you guys, it has been so freeing. It flairs up every now and then, especially with certain subjects. The Internet is a hard place to be on when you are working to improve yourself, by the way. I see so many hateful people making Facebook comments. Like okay, Jimmy, the 30-year-old man, why do you hate on boy bands and books made for teen girls so much? Okay, Barbara, keep telling everyone that will listen that a marriage is meant to be between a man and woman and everyone is ruining your perfect world.

And don’t even get me started on that “Millennial Snowflake” crap.

I swear, if people would put the same energy they spent on being so mean into something good, this planet would spin in the opposite direction, it would be so amazed. Oh well, it all starts with at least one person, I guess it will be me. 😊

If you are still here by this point, thank you for listening to my rant. These posts feel amazing to write, and honestly, helps me put it into perspective on writing my own book. Please let me know if you have ever dealt with this, and what you do to overcome it. Or, if you need an ear to listen or need some advice, don’t hesitate to contact me! Support is my thing right now! πŸ’ͺ

Until next time, πŸ’•

The Library Lady

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