Writer's Block: Mind blitz

[Error: unknown template qotd] I'm not sure. The three week boyfriend whose name I don't remember, who was emotionally abusive and I was with for no good reason? But if I erase him, I wouldn't have learned how badly I suck at being a doormat. Three weeks, that was it.

The thing is, I have forgotten most of the people who deserve to be. I can't quite recall who said "fuck you, whore" because I thought they should take the Confederate Flag off the state capitol. I don't even know the names of people who have called me names and threatened my life. I forgot the name of the second grade teacher I had who tied me to my chair with red yarn and screamed all the time. I made a vow that I would hope that she would be lonely and her kids never visit her, and then she disappeared into gray for me.

I suppose I would like to erase getting robbed at gunpoint from my life, but that was an event. I didn't know who the person was.

I remember the events, I remember how they felt. I don't remember the people. There's no need to.

Writer's Block: Fight or flight

[Error: unknown template qotd] Quite a few times. I was a tiny 12 year old who didn't speak above a whisper and had gotten funneled into the special education system. I was taunted, bullied, and physically threatened by large boys and horrible girls. I soon learned the "batshit crazy" defense was best. It throws people off when a tiny girl who does not talk starts screaming and throwing her desk around. After I knocked a six foot guy on his ass with a well-placed backpack, then put it back on and walked away normally, I didn't have that much to worry about.

Then I took karate, which gave me more displine and control, and also I didn't have to go off half-cocked anymore. Just the fact that I knew it kept things down. It also did wonders for me emotionaly. Not to mention, now if anyone took a swing at me I could just block it and walk away. That was also good for the "look, I don't give a shit about you, so that's why I'm not fucking you up" image. (Junior high is all about image, don't let anyone say otherwise. And my school was brutal-lots of fights and injuries.)

I do regret the "bipolar disorder acting up" violence. I didn't even know I was bipolar at the time. So it seemed really strange to me, not just the people I was screaming and throwing things at.

And, that girl in 9th grade really didn't need to get her lip split.