I got bullied whilst growing up. Before now, I never thought of a better word to use to quantify the humiliation I went through in the hands of both seniors, my mates and even juniors in high school. I comforted myself sometimes with thoughts of not receiving guidelines or handbook from my parents; having an older sibling, friend or relative to put me through on tips on how to survive being a school boarder. Be it as it may, I got in and was left scarred for life.
During my pre-school days up until primary school, I have a vague memory but I do remember having solid relationships with my fellow pupil. I had clique of friends I identified with. I was one very free spirited child who engaged in lots of school activities.
Few years later, I made it to high school. I vividly remember the first few nights I spent going after some girls to be friends with me. It went up to the extent of getting mocked about it and eventually being reported to the then hostel manager. I was probably thinking I could get away with transiting easily from primary to high school. What a shocker!
It did not end there. I got bullied over several things then. From being too weak to defend my self to being too easy for any one to trample upon. Senior prefects showed no mercy. Fellow students in the same level as me also showed mild to low bully traits. I was flagger-basted. How did I become such marshmallows I thought to myself. It got to a point where I was being targeted during sleep in order to be stolen from. This particular senior wouldn’t let go of my school provisions given to me by my parents to supplement my meals from the school. She would sneak in at night when I’m fast asleep and demand that I pronounce the code to my luggage to her so that she can steal my provisions.
Bearing these in mind, I developed a strategy to determine when my provision as well as other personal stuffs would have been tampered with. I began arranging my items in a specific way (overly tidy manner) and took a mental note of the pattern too. This way, I could tell even when a pin gets moved from its original position. This was also applicable to the infamous senior’s main target which was my suitcase. It was the most satisfactory adopted means to identify when the thieves/bullies struck albeit too scared to confront.
Fortunately or unfortunately, in the process OCD was born
The control to keep my things tidy and spotless consumed me deeper than anticipated. So many benefits or so I thought, were derived from this. The senior/bully backed off, I was also known for being tidy and so on. This led to more quest for perfection in other areas of my life hence obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD).
To learn more about OCD, please click on link
Talk about exhaustion
For many years I suffered from OCD with both the compliments of being tidy and the downside of alienating myself from everyone so that I’m not placed in the position to clean or tidy-up (it’s more complex than that). That’s the contradictory part; why I despised the symptoms of something I continuously engaged in. Because of how much I despised these symptoms, that meant that I had to plan every activity down to the minutiae in order to be ready. I planned on when to clean, when to attend appointments and what to wear before hand, when to study and play, when to travel and every detail of logistics involved and so on. Decluttering my mind with achieving these goals or to-do lists was always fulfilling though a classic symptom depiction.
I had to remind myself about a lot and in the means trained my mind.
I learned about OCD, it’s triggers/causes, symptoms and treatments. I partook in a cognitive behavioral therapy when I entered the University and that kick-started the healing journey. I found and retraced the root cause of the problem, why I was involved in it in the first place. I reminded myself constantly that the bully is not in my life any longer and therefore cannot hold any more power to how I live. I refused to be defeated by internalizing the hurt and depicting behaviors due to what someone else caused. Most importantly, I forgave myself for not sourcing better options to deal with it then as young as I was.
Thankfully, I am an OCD survivor. I tend to panic from time to time though and exhibit the symptoms but I’m more in control of it compared to few years ago.
What about you?
What has growing up made you inculcate that you wish you didn’t budge to in the first place? What is that habit derailing you from achieving greater heights, what is it constantly feeding you with to cause you to be complacent with where you are?
It is redeemable. Death is the only thing that isn’t.
There’s a purpose to everything. Turn that pain, OCD, depression, anger, rejection, humiliation to a purpose. It’s all in the mind. Make it up for a better cause
Will you?
