This will be the second time in my life I’ve written about this.
The first time I wrote about it I had a full page to myself in the Newry Reporter. Along with a Police appeal for witnesses.
It all started off as it usually does. The weird kid at school. Didn’t talk much, didn’t socialise much, problems at home etc etc. The snide comments just about in ear shot, the sniggering as you walk past a certain group of people in the hallway at school, then it gets physical.
When you are being bullied emotionally, it feels incredibly mortifying, you feel useless. When the physical bullying starts your emotions stretch far beyond any capability known to those who haven’t suffered in this way. You feel utterly desolate. Alone. Completely alone. It’s a hard feeling to explain to those who are lucky enough to have passed through childhood without experiencing this behaviour.
You could be having an ok day. You’re still glancing around corrdors just in case you spot anyone from that group. Nobody has shown all day. You think you’re getting through the day ok and then WHAM! It’s like a scene from Glee… someone, from nowhere, shoves you into a wall. That’s how it started in Newry High School.
I went through it all; my parents found out about a miniscule amount of it and frogmarched me to the Principal demanding answers and consequences. For whatever reason and I have evidence supporting me in the statement I’m about to make…. Newry High School could not deal with the situation, not even remotely. What then followed was extremely serious and could have had dire reprocussions.
It escalated pretty quickly in my case.
Soon there had been an incident just outside the school gates where a girl and her friends jumped me from behind making me fall to the ground then smacking my head off steel railings.
The schools line at the time was: We were outside school grounds.
However they did threaten detention if you were caught smoking anywhere in school uniform……. go figure…..
Then the climax.
There’s always a climax.
On the 18th November of that year Newry City Centre were switching on the Christmas Lights. My friend convinced me to go. So I did.
Walking down a street in Newry, minding my own business I became aware of glass bottles skimming past my head.
One connected.
I ran. The first and last time I’ve probably ran in my life.
I ran through Newry Bus Depot screaming for help.
There were people there. I remember the uncomfortable looks on their faces quite clearly.
I ran on outside hoping to find a burly bus driver to stop this group in their tracks only for them to catch up with me.
I was set apon.
It’s as simple as that. There is no point in me telling you about the stamp mark bruises I was left with nor the clumps of hair that I lost that night. I’m sure you can gather it wasn’t pretty.
At the police station I was able to identify 12 of the people there. But that wasn’t all of them.
Watching the footage back and realising people were in the bus depot watching? That was the killer.
It could have been worse. It really could have been. These days we have a serious issue with knife and weapon crime. I was lucky it was only fists and feet.
I have been living with the consequences of the 18th November for so long. It didn’t end where I’ve left this piece of writing. Some things are simply to hard to share in black and white on here. I’m sure you understand.
I remember every single name of anyone who bullied me.
My questions to you are:
1. If you see someone at your school being bullied, do you look the other way?
2. Are you being bullied?
3. Are you a bully?
I’m hoping a lot of you stop to consider these questions.
If you are being bullied or if in fact, you are a bully. Stop and think about it. What happens now stays with you through life. There is only so much ‘letting go’ one person is capable of.
