Mister Wolfe – Lupus Dormiens Nunquam Titilandus

With all the stories in the media about bullying, it got me to thinking about my own childhood.  I was bullied quite badly as a child.  There was, of course, no internet, so it was all in person, face to face, and fist to face.  I fought when I had to, and thankfully had parents that supported me and stood behind me when I needed them to.  It made it much easier.  At 12 I started taking Karate to learn how to defend myself.  It helped with the physical bullying, because people became afraid to fight me, but not the verbal bullying.  After grade 10, it mostly stopped.  I became a dangerous target for bullies.

I don’t remember becoming depressed when I was bullied.  I always had a sense that bullies were much more damaged than me and required pity, and not fear.  I often question why some people become depressed and go on to kill themselves, and others become stronger when bullied.  Suicide is unfathomable to me on a personal level.   I always felt that giving in would be letting the bullies win, and there was no way in hell I was going to let them beat me down.

Lack of family support, social isolation, feeling like you are totally, completely, alone in the world and that there is nobody who loves you, nobody who will stand beside you. That is a part of what bullying does to a person.  The physical scars don’t compare to the hurt that words cause.

Bullying is wrong.  It should never happen.  Ever.  No child should have to be subjected to that sort of cruelty and isolation.  It makes me really sad that not every child has a supportive family and that schools don’t seem to have comprehensive bullying prevention programs.  I’ve read stories of victims of bullying getting expelled from school for defending themselves in a fight.  It makes no sense to me.

While I am glad I chose to get in to Karate, martial arts became my passion, I shouldn’t have had to become physically stronger and learn a martial discipline to feel safe and protect myself.  My parents had my back, even when educators and those in  role of authority ignored the bullying.  I think that is part of what kept me moving forward.  That and the stubborn streak that is ingrained in me.  I will never give in.  I will never surrender.  Ever.  I will always fight for myself and those I love.

Bullying has left it’s mark on me.  It taught me how to protect myself.  It lead me to an art that became a huge part of my life.  It gave me courage to move forward when I was afraid.  I taught me the value of loyalty and trust.  It also left me with scars.  I trust very few.  I am socially isolated as an adult, because I learned that safety meant never letting myself get close to people.  I have no community.

My fervent wish is for no child to ever feel alone, hurt, isolated, or pain of any kind because they have been bullied.  It leaves marks that you will carry for a lifetime, and for some, it ends lives prematurely.  It is tragic.  It can be prevented of only people care enough to try.

I’ve been going to the gym 3x a week for the last 14 months.  I decided just after my 40th that I needed to stay healthy if I was going to life a long and happy life.  I’ve always been an active person.  My mood suffers if I do not move my body.  I want a body that will last me until I’m at least 101.  None of this slowly becoming decrepit for me, thanks.

I lift weights, primarily.  I’m doing Wendler’s 5/3/1, which is a slower, intermediate, weight lifting program.  This also means I’m eating a lot more than usual to try to pack some muscle on to my frame.  The goal is 230-235 by January, then I’ll start cutting weight.  At 212 now, I don’t think I’ll have much of an issue, so long as I can keep eating the volume I need to get in me.

I like lifting weights.  Not as much as I enjoyed martial arts, but it’s good enough.  I need some sort of goal to work towards, so this works as well.  Without some sort of goal to achieve I tend to get cranky and meh.  It keeps my mind and body busy.

Welcome back.

36 months ago my writing slowed down to a crawl  18 months ago I completely stopped writing.  In the intervening time, a lot has changed that has made me think about writing again.

I am not entirely sure what direction the blog will take.  All of my previous writing is in the ether somewhere, so it’s a fresh start.

Largely what prompted me to start writing again was the loss of my mother 2 weeks ago.  The grief of losing her was, and is, a weight on my heart, but it is the manner of how she chose to live during the last years of her life, and the manner of her passing, that has impacted me most profoundly. Without getting into details, out of respect for her privacy, I’ve decided how I do want to live the rest of my life.

I want to be surrounded by friends and family.  This means I need to actually keep in touch with the friends I do have and make the effort to make new friends.  It also means participating more in communities that I am involved with.

I want to eat good food, live a healthy lifestyle, and have a healthy body.  I want to keep lifting heavy things and putting them down.

I want my world to encompass more than my home and work.  I want to travel and see new, and old familiar, sights.

I want to keep focusing on my poly family.  My partners are amazing, and my partner’s partner is amazing.

Some of these things are going to be challenging for me.  My natural inclination is to be solitary.  My introversion appears to people to be indifference or aloofness.  I want to work on that.

My dad used to tell me a story about his grandfather when I was a child.  Every morning his grandfather left the house he would put a carnation in his lapel.  Every evening he came home without the flower, having given it to someone at some point during the day in order to brighten his/her day.

I always thought that was really cool.

More random acts of kindness.  Yes.