Still in Hell: High School

High school was an interesting time for me. I was still trying to find my identity. Between being a nerd, an occasional teacher’s pet, and plans on how I was going to take over the world, boys never seriously ventured into my mind. Well, until I started to get a little attention.

I was a late bloomer. Now, I don’t mind it so much, but then, I hated it. I had friends who were already dating guys based on whether or not they had cars. Some of the guys already had kids, which, in my mind, was completely out of the question. I hadn’t even had my first kiss yet, let alone attempt to play step-momma for someone else’s child.

My first real boyfriend experience also came with a stalker ex-sidechick. Sophomore year led to me dating a great guy who became a really good friend. We grew together, and, in all honesty, he was the perfect first boyfriend. However, he did bring a little baggage.

_1762298_smsodoom-ap300After this guy and I started dating, I started receiving anonymous text messages from some “mystery” person. They did everything from send me messages while spending time with my family on the weekends, as I was babysitting or at work, and by watching my every move while at school. I was cursed out, called derogative names; they even mailed a letter to my parents at home to let them know of my plans to “lose my virginity”, posing as my friend who was concerned about my actions. My mother hid this letter for years until I came back from college during break, and it made me break out in tears of laughter. One, how could anyone be this desperate, and two, how on Earth did they get the nerve to send my parents a note?

00020700Come to find out, the team was made of a homely-looking girl, her attention-seeking mother, and a few other lackeys who they happened to recruit. The girl was a good friend of my boyfriend, and, at one time, they did have a little something going on. However, when he and I began dating, the girl did everything from having her father offer to buy him a car and a new computer, she whispered rumors and ill-thoughts about me behind my back, and her mother had the audacity to try and intimidate me each day after school as she would wait in her old Dodge minivan to pick up the daughter and her lackeys. Clearly, the mother also had no life.

This crew loomed everywhere. They lingered near me inNokia 5110i the hallways at school, constantly passing by in attempt to scare me, showing up near my job; the daughter even got a part-time job near mine. I wasn’t certain if she was simply intrigued by me or if she was spying in order to be the first one to let my boyfriend know if I messed up or anything. Regardless, I tried to block the anonymous text messages, but it was during the time of prepaid cell phones. So, numbers couldn’t be tracked. Then, I tried to scout out who could possibly have been the mysterious texters. As I kept asking people one by one, I kept getting messages mocking me that I had accused the wrong person. Not to mention that I had no direct “proof” to file a restraining order.

Dodge-CaravanEventually, it just went extremely too far. My mother and step-father were concerned over me coming home everyday stressed about the previous day and worried about the next. At that point, my step-father said no more. He told me to go to school like normal and that he would pick me up the next day. Sure enough, I walked out of the tall Sycamore Street building the next afternoon, and there was my step-father in his monster truck parked directly across the street from the devious mother. He stared her down in his most scariest-man glare. I stepped into his truck, and all of the lackeys eyed us in utter surprise and bewilderment. Frightened, if you will. I never received another text afterwards.

High school brought on my first kiss, the first time I dealt with infidelity in a relationship, and even my first stalker. I had a number of experiences that taught me a lot, but it also taught me the reality of how much power men held. For one, my boyfriend at the time had so much power over that girl to make her, her mother, and her friends go completely insane. (Also, I just think that the girls’ family was pretty nuts in general.) Then again, it took one simple move of intimidation from my step-father to stop the whole mess. No matter how frustrated I became with the girl, my anger did nothing. The following years, I was able to intimidate the girl with my attitude and even deleted all of her pictures from the yearbooks (yeah, I’ll admit it). However, it took the role of my step-father to put everyone in their place. For that, I am grateful, but it also puts a lot into perspective.

Are we, as women, driven to insanity from men, or do we drive ourselves to it? Like the crazy girl and her mom, was it inevitable to happen, or did they bring it on themselves? How is it that we are able to lose all self-control and sense of reality and do, what we seem to think, whatever is possible in order to “win”? Regardless of the matter, please don’t stalk anyone. That’s just freakin’ nuts and may get you in jail. Please, never go to jail over a man. It’ll never be that serious.





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