A long and off topic post about my experience with being weird and slightly socially awkward penguin

This is off topic and more personal than horse related, but I was reading an article on bullying and I realized it was probably rather odd that as strange and Gothy as I was I never really had an issue with it.
It's possibly because I generally looked scary as shit, all in black with spikes and a perpetual "go away" expression (not around my horses of course). Or because I didn't care what people thought about me. It's more likely because I had my nose buried in a book and was listening to music until I could get home and play with my horses. (The Boy thinks it's because I was a girl and I, err, "developed" early on. I like my theories better though.)

Okay fine, sometimes I had the look around the horses as well. Although to be fair, he (my friend doing the photo project) did have to keep yelling at me to stop laughing and look serious. 

This is what happens when I wanted a shot for myself and not for a project. Nobody who actually knew me thought I was scary. Probably because they actually heard me talk. I tend to ruin the facade when I open my mouth. Either way, Sam doesn't judge me. 

Anyway, I think the only time I actually remember someone actually trying to physically bully me was in the 8th grade. I was tiny, under five foot, and weighed well under 70 pounds and I was still blonde, in braces and fresh from homeschooling. Oh, have I ever mentioned that I was home schooled from 4th until 8th grade? Well, I was. Probably didn't help the socially awkward thing either.

Yeah! 

Well this person apparently thought I was an easy target, honestly there was nothing even a little bit intimidating about me at this time and she was considerably bigger than me. Still she started insulting me and even pushed my shoulder I believe. But that was it. Why? No, I didn't fight back. No, a teacher didn't come and no, she didn't suddenly just decide to become a better person. It's because she looked into my eyes. (And no she didn't suddenly see I was a human being with feelings either.) 

8th grade was the worst year of my life (and many other peoples I imagine). This was the only year of my life that I didn't have horses. I had un-diagnosed clinical depression and suicidal tendencies because of that. Now here's the thing about some types of depression, it's not all being sad. Sometimes it's apathy. I just did not care. At all. There was no response in my eyes; not anger or fear or fright. Just...nothingness. I didn't say a word, I just stared at her. And that terrifies people. People aren't scared when you make threats- they know they're mostly empty. They aren't scared when you put your tiny fists up. No, they're scared when the only reaction they get from the person they're trying to intimidate is a slight head tilt and an unblinking stare. We're afraid of the unexpected and what we aren't able to predict.

Kind of like this scene in Sherlock. 'Read me now sucker!' Oh and if you haven't seen this show, fix it. Seriously. And if you have, in addition to talking horses I also like discussing shows I'm addicted to!

She never bothered me again. Then I got Sam and 8th grade sucked just a tiny bit less. 

In highschool I became quite gothy and I fine with that. I was still obsessed with horses and spent all my spare time studying about them. (I was also 'smart' ((I went to school in Arkansas, we were covering things I learned in 3rd grade in Minnesota)) and finished my home or class work usually before the class was even half up. Then I read.)  I was the kind of kid teachers loved: I shut up, paid attention when I needed to and always did my work on time. Sure I looked weird and spooky, had around 20 piercings and would occasionally freak people out by giving myself a new ear piercing in the middle of school (hey, it was cosmetology) but I was still somehow better behaved than everyone else so no-one gave a damn. 

I think the fact that my skin color was somewhere around 'corpse' and 'sheet of paper' white made me look spookier... or you know, dead. *Wooo* (That was my attempt at a ghost noise by the way.) And if you're wondering how someone with horses stays that pale, it's damn hard work. And a lot of spf 110+, yes they make that. Then  I became a trail guide and I got really, really tan. 

So let's recount: I was nerdy (still am. I went as Doctor Who, the Matt Smith version for Halloween), "brainy", horse obsessed (I'd bring tack magazines to school and drool over them. I got lots of 'whips' comments- then I'd correct them on the correct use of a riding crop. Really, why does everybody think I'm into that? It's a teaching aid people! It stays in my barn), a book worm, a theater kid, artsy, a bit of a teachers pet and the weird kid who sat alone in class, wore a LOT of black, and didn't like to talk to people.

I was the kind of person that usually got picked on. But I like to think that I mastered that empty stare and the 'I don't take shit from things with a thousand pounds on me and I'm sure not going to take any from you!' look early on. That or because I gave up caring (What happened to that and how can I get it back?) made me confident. And confidence in high school is a rare thing. 

Apparently actually people weren't entirely nice to me. I have to admit I never noticed. Probably because I disliked 90% of them and probably because I wasn't terribly nice myself. (Teenagers man, we all sucked.) If you were loud and disruptive in class I probably hated you because I like order and efficiency. Although if you were quiet, did your own work and didn't disrupt the learning you were in the 10% I absolutely liked. 

 I had a circle of good friends who were all weird and many of whom were gay, and I hung out with them and didn't talk to a lot of other people. The truth is that I didn't want to. They annoyed me. I actually did have the chance to be one of the 'popular kids'. The popular girls invited me to sit with them when I first started school. I found them vapid and dull. I don't think they terribly appreciated being blown off...

Later on I had my hair super long and kept black headphones in anytime the teacher wasn't teaching... and sometimes when they were.

Best hiding tool ever but my god, that took at least 3 boxes of hair dye on a regular basis. 

I don't remember most of high school to be perfectly honest. I was on a lot of pills, (My first prescribed anti-depressant made me a zombie and permanently damaged my short term memory) and I spent the rest of the time reading and listening to music. I loved being weird. I loved the clothing and the sassy attitude and the music. 

Occasionally well meaning people would try and 'reach out to me'. Which is quite nice- and that's truly not sarcasm. Except that usually I didn't want them to. I swear, they always found a way to do this right at the best and most exciting part of a book! Gah! Is it so hard to believe that some people actually enjoy reading more than gossiping?! (I'm kind of a book hoarder. My shelf is filled to the brim and I got a kindle for christmas which only makes my addition worse- although much more space efficient.) 

Me in pretty much every class ever. 

Yes that is the Lord of the Rings and yes I was totally the kind of person who would yell at people in Elvish when they annoyed me. Stop judging me.

Anyway, I actually rather enjoyed high school for the most part. I know, who says that right? But I had some great friends and we had a lot of fun. I also had my horses and started doing my project thing when I was 16. I mean, it's still high school- it's not like it's college. College was actually awesome. I came out of my shell a lot in college. Even if you think high school was not that bad, once you get to college you're like: "Damn, no that did kinda suck, this is way better." 

The funny thing is that I got several letters, over my high school career apologizing for not reaching out to me more and not trying to include me in stuff. Or for saying things about me. (Whenever I'd hear nasty gossip I'd find a way to make it 10x worse sounding and then tell them to pass it on. It made me giggle. Being goth and not caring what anyone thought was quite freeing that way.) I guess they thought I was lonely. The truth is that I wasn't. At all actually. But they didn't know that. Still, when they'd give me these letters at the end of the year it was really very nice of them. It showed introspection on their behalf. It wasn't needed for me personally, but there are many, many people who do need it. I think that writing them was as therapeutic as receiving them is for some people. 

I also heard people say they wish they'd have gotten to know me better (I still kind of don't. I really enjoyed my private reading and study time.) because I seemed so unique and different. I like to think that I was a special and unique little snowflake - just like everybody else.

So, remember that there are still some good people out there. A lot of times they're just too young and self absorbed (what teenager isn't?) to notice someone else who's actually suffering while it's happening. It's not always deliberate and I spent a fair bit of time responding to those letters, thanking them and reassuring them that it wasn't actually necessary personally, I was alright and they don't need to feel bad. In reality, I intentionally avoided people most of the time.  I thought I was the one ignoring them!

Actually, most of my goth friends had more fun than most 'normal' people did in high school.  Although many of them did have problems with harassment. I'll put up with a lot of nonsense about myself and directed at me, but I have a fairly short fuse when it comes to people doing it to people I care about. It's that overprotective thing again. I was nicknamed 'the Happy Goth' when I started college. A name that stuck even after I moved away from my monochromatic wardrobe and excess of spikes. I'm pretty sure that people I'd never met knew that nick name before meeting me. I'm okay with that. It was funny though, how many of my friends admit they thought I was intimidating when they first saw me as I'm actually quite shy in person and I don't always know what to do in social situations with lots of people.

My first semester of college I had a moment that I feel kind of bad for in retrospect. But only kind of. 

I was drinking (Gasp! A drinking story on a college campus? How shocking and unpredictable!) and walking with a new friend talking about things and having a good time. I was approached by a guy who recognized me from high school. (Same town) He said he remembered me and had wanted to apologize to me for a long time. He said he still felt bad for the way he treated me in school and the things he said. He said he hoped it hadn't haunted me and that he'd been an ass at that time in his life.

My response? "Um, who are you? Are you sure we've met?"

I honestly could not remember ever seeing him before in my life. To be fair I had had several cups of punch at that point and I have a seriously terrible memory (Lexapro- not even once) But no, he hadn't haunted me. In fact, he had such a minimal effect on my life that my mind didn't even store him to even facial memory. But I had clearly had an effect on his. 

I'm glad he changed and stopped being such an jerk (I did vaguely remember him the next day when I facebook crept his name. He was indeed an ass and I guess we had several classes together?) I feel bad, not because he hadn't had any effect on my life whatsoever, but because it took a lot of thinking, reflecting and courage (aided by a few cups of his own) to admit and apologize for the not nice things he'd done as a teenage boy. That should be rewarded.

I just hope I didn't set this guy off of apologizing to other people forever. 

I'm a tiny bit annoyed to be honest. Because now I feel guilty for his not having any effect on my life, even though he was apparently a jerk to me, and not forgiving him for things I don't remember on that night. This is still really the only memory I have of him. 

Most people weren't like me and I know that. It does haunt most people. The Boy has stories of his own and he's still coping with the after effects- he had a great breakthrough this year. I think a big part of it not getting to me at all was the fact that I had my horses. I liked them more than people, they were always there to talk to and a canter is the cure for all evils. Sam didn't judge me (unless I was late with feeding him) and I always had him to come home to.

If I'm being really open, and I am, I was a lot more hurt by it in college. I guess it's because I tried toning it down a little and started caring what people thought about me.  (Dammit) I still remember my freshman year being in my room as an RA (resident assistant- kind of like a dorm mom/rule enforcer/community builder that's paid jack squat. Freshmen are rarely allowed to be RA's.) and hearing two girls, two of my residents, talking about me outside my door.

"What a freak! I can't believe they let people like *Her* become RA's!"

"Seriously, what the hell?!"

And so on.

It was finals week, I was on no sleep, I had duty that weekend (it's like babysitting drunk over sized toddlers for pennies an hour at 2 in the morning), I hadn't seen my horse in a while and I was just plain stressed out. I couldn't deal with it. I had to go home and cry to Sam, and then ride. Then I felt better.

Normally my response would be to open my door, stick my head out and say 'Just so you know, your RA's aren't deaf. We can actually hear you. Especially through these shitty doors. You should be damn happy that I'm your RA. I'm way more lenient than most of the others. (Okay, so maybe I was lazy and really just didn't want to fill out the 5 page form for reporting someone).'

But really, a tip to remember ladies: You probably should be nice, at least to their face, to the only person who can let you in your room at 3 am when you're half naked (and on a few occasions actually naked.) and doing the walk of shame because you forgot your keys.

Your RA is the one who gives you crackers and water when you're too drunk to function, instead of reporting you like they're supposed to.

Your RA is the one who can shut down your parties at any time (and yes, we totally know where you live. And no, we don't feel like giving you a break).

Your RA is the one that gives you a solo cup to pour your drink in so that you won't get in trouble for carrying an 'open container'.

They do not get paid enough to put up with all your shit. If you're not nice to them, none of the other RA's will be nice either. You're in college now, so grow up and act like it.

Sorry, now that one did get to me. Which is odd since I've been called a freak more times than I can count. And yes, I did get to shut down several of their parties. If I can hear your music a floor above and on the other side of the dorm- it's too damn loud! Thankfully most of my residents weren't like this. Almost all of them were polite and some were very sweet- I still have the presents they gave me. I still quit after that semester. I was not paid nearly enough to put up with all of that. Also I think it's just especially hard on freshmen- blind leading the blind. I got paid $11 a ride to haul people around on horses for an hour, and that's way less work and the boss is just as annoying. 

The lesson here is still that bullying is bad and apologize if you did it! That's still the moral dammit! If you did, you don't get to not feel bad just because of my particular instance!

Since I'm already way off topic, I figured I'd throw in what I considered to be an amusing story about attempted bad 90's movie plot gone wrong. Okay it's just in here because I remembered it late at night and feel like writing about it and I don't actually keep a journal. 

It was my second year of high school and yes, I was still weird. I had this thing about wearing ties and a semi formal jacket- it was my "trademark" look. 

Anyway, it was lunch time and I was killing time with some friends just sitting around and talking. I was minding my own business when suddenly I felt this tap on my shoulder. I looked up, expecting to see one of my friends, and saw instead some tall guy followed by about 5-8 of his giggling guy friends.

The interaction went something like this.

Random tall guy: "Hey."

Me: *confused* "Um, hi? ... *awkward pause*... Can I help you?"

RTG: "Yeah I just wanted to say I really like your tie." *Picks up my tie* (Now I have this thing about my personal bubble being invaded that goes twice as much for humans as it does for horses. Breaching this is doubly unappreciated when it's something that's on my dang chest!)

M: Thanks. That's nice. Quit touching me. Now."

RTG: "Yeah, I've got a tie too. *holds up his own tie* It's pink."

M: "That's great. I can see that, what I can't see is why some strange guy is suddenly talking to me and touching me."

RTG: *confused look* "Don't you know who I am?"

M: "No. And no I don't care or want to know either. I'm busy. Go away."

My friend: "OH! *blushing* He's *Name I totally don't remember* He's the school's basketball star! "

M: "That's nice. Still doesn't explain what he's doing here or why I'd care." 

RTG: "Yeah, I've been signed to *some team I don't remember.* (I actually did see him on the tv a few years ago- well, my parent's did and they pointed him out.)

M: "Do I really look like the kind of girl who's into sports?"

RTG: *Still touching my shoulder* "Well I... blablabla." *starts trying to flatter me while his friends keep failing to keep a straight face behind him*

About this time I figure he's either really, really dense or used to every girl fawning over him and is unable to imagine that someone actually isn't into him. (And apparently unable to think that the a girl might just have a boyfriend already.) I made the guess that he and his friends have seen one too many terrible 90's movie about the school jock and the weird girl and made some kind of bet that he could get her to go out with him or lead her on or something.  I know I have. (For the record, one is too many of those movies.) 

Like this one for example. Nobody believes that no one wants to date you just because you had glasses! 

M: *cutting him off* "Okay, listen up and listen closely because I'm only going to say this once. This is not a bad movie. I have never seen you or talked to you before in my life. I am not interested in you in any way. I do not like you. You have a problem with respecting personal space. I do not want you touching me. I do not want you talking to me. I want you to Go Away. Seriously. I'm not playing hard to get, I just could care less that you're good at some sport"

RTG *interrupting* "Basketball"

M: "Whatever. Don't care. Shoo." *I returned to talking to my friends*

I think he kept trying to talk to me while I ignored him. Half of his friends looked shocked and the half looked like Christmas had came early. I'm guessing half were supporting him and half weren't. 

Real life isn't always like the movies; not all girls need rescuing from big strong, popular men to make them bloom into a dainty flower.

 I like to think that I prevented another terrible movie from being inspired from my story. 

So now, in a desperate attempt to make this not a useless and rambling journal entry  post, here are the morals all summed up:

Bullying is bad. Don't do it. Seriously. It's not okay. It's not okay even if they're weird.

If you do do it, apologize!

Don't bully the weird kid in all black who's got pointy metal spikes all over. That's just a bad life choice right there. 

If your bully apologizes you should try and forgive them too. Even if you may not remember them. 

Teenagers kind of all suck, they grow out of it, usually.

Leave the kid gleefully reading a book to their book.

Give your teenagers horses! Horses are good. They give kids confidence and responsibility. Plus, any teenager with a horse to take care of won't ever have time or money to spend on cigarettes, drugs or alcohol! 

Get treatment or therapy for depression (but I'd avoid lexapro personally), don't just avoid it completely. 

You should watch Sherlock.

Because that. That's why. You can thank me later.

I'll try to think up an actual horse post later, I promise.