Angry Ricky commented in the post about wild thoughts, and it triggered something in me, and I wanted to write about it in a separate post. I used to be the loneliest kid on Earth just a few years back.
The counselling never helped much, though, because with 20/20 hindsight I can see what brought me out of that hard shell, and that was not being lonely anymore. This is a realisation I made at 15-16, reading through my old journals, and that I had no comprehension of at 12 when I was in that state.
One day it just occured to me, reading the journals: You worthless little bugger, the reason you didn’t like anyone was because you were lonely.
The reason why I was so lonely was that at age, 12, I weighed about as much as I do now at 17. I think I weighed around 65-70 kg (130-140-ish pounds for you non-metric folks). I was a fat little tub. When I started secondary school at age 11, and until I was pulled out of that school at 12 1/2 or so, I was relentlessly bullied. Not a single day of reprieve for running down the fatty in the school yard.
I had some friends in primary school, but they were lost lost when I switched schools, and instead of friends I had to contend with Keith and his jolly companions. Nobody ever did anything to help me, and I suffered because I was indeed a tub, and it was all my fault, and people were right to hate me. Since my temper is always volatile and explosive, it was easy to set me off, to make me cry. It was fun, I suppose, to see the blubber boy weep.
When my parents found out about the bullying, I was pulled out of that school so fast that my school uniform is probably still fluttering in the wind. We moved to Sweden, where I would be not only the fattie in the school yard but also the funny speaking kid. Oh yeah, I didn’t expect any improvement in my treatment. I deserved it, didn’t I?
But things did improve a lot. The school yard is a hierarchy, a strict one, and one of the “top dogs” took me under her wing. Nobody messed with Maria, and since Maria was my friend nobody messed with me any more. I admit that it took a long time before I trusted her.
I think half a year went by before I stopped thinking that I was being set up for something major. I couldn’t stop not being with Maria, because it was so nice to be liked, even if it turned out to be a pretence.
I stopped going to counselling when I was 13 or so. It didn’t help, and by that time I’d stopped thinking that everyone was out to hurt me. Counselling is the wrong word, by the way. It was a school person and me that sat silent for 30 minutes until the time was up. I never trusted her, and told her nothing.
I had also started running, and the weight was shedding. It was a misery, but I kept at it, and soon enough I wasn’t fat anymore. I also started singing, which helped me too.
So, the point of all this is to illustrate that Keith brought me low. Another human being made my life miserable. But I was also complicit in that demeaning of me because I isolated myself from everyone else. I believed the bully, that I was shit and despicable and horrid. I still have that, which is why I sometimes in the midst of my life have a little voice that say to me that “I don’t deserve this”.
I’ve never trusted being alone as a fix to anything, and I envy those that can find solace in solitude, for the reasons that derive from what I said above. When it mattered, other people rescued me. Other people save me from myself.
Therefore, give me the city with its millions of people, rather than the lonely spaces where I have nothing to listen to but that voice that says ‘memento mori, you little worthless shit’. I don’t really trust myself with loneliness, because I’m afraid that it will be like the last time, when I was the loneliest boy on Earth.