Ghosts from the past

Ok, I've got to deviate for just a minute because I need to vent quickly over today's hot topic:  Ghosts from the past.

In the last week, I've gotten two friend requests on Facebook from people I knew in High School.  One of the requests got a HELL NO and ignored, the other I took.

Ok.  How do I feel about high school?  I HATED IT.  Emphatically.  Why these people decide to pop up now, I can only blame on Facebook.   Seeing the names, faces and other things that remind me of high school does nothing but bring back all of the trauma, the anxiety and depression I fight so hard every day to avoid.  See, that's the thing about PTSD, it doesn't let you get over it.  When you are in the midst of a panic attack caused by a trigger that reminds you of the events that caused the PTSD, you're caught in a black hole of seeing the faces, hearing the taunts and all of the other things that happened to you.  It makes it virtually impossible to just "let it go".  That's when you have to deal with it and try to get through it best you can, but it doesn't make forgetting it easy.

The request that I ignored brought up all sorts of anger.  I sat there going, "Really?  They have the audacity to try to get in touch with me...REALLY?"  I sat stewing and angry over the fact that someone who was never kind to me decides to contact me via Facebook and wants to say they're my friend.  How hypocritical can people get?  That takes some serious balls to sit there and pretend like they weren't a horse's ass to me.  Maybe they thought "Oh, maybe she forgot about it..."  NO.  My memory is long and I don't forgive easily.  Especially when it comes to the kids I went to school with that gave me such hell.  I have a psychological disorder that I have to deal with every single day thanks to them, so you'll have to forgive me if I'm less than kind.   To those kids, I have a serious axe to grind and I'll make it quite clear where they can bury their hatchet.  I've long since built a bridge and gotten over their asinine antics.  I'm just thrilled to be able to say that even though they gave me the "gift" of PTSD and the scars they gave me will likely never fade, those people mean less than nothing to me.

However, I did get a much needed boost out of it.  Remember, nutritional value, we can find it in everything...

Being a glutton for punishment as I am, I flipped through the friend list of my high school friend and found ALL of the bullies that used to torment me.  Ok, I'm still looking really good, albeit a bit overweight.  Remember "Hot Girl in a Prius" the other day?  Yeah.  I'm still rockin'.

As I flipped through the photos of these people, I began to smile.  Time has NOT been good to quite a few of them.  Remember me, the smart, pretty girl who just wanted to fit into a world of the stupid and ugly kids? Yeah, should have known better, but only time can teach you those lessons so you can build a bridge and just get over it.  (Thank you KP.)

Anyhow, I saw a boy I used to date and omg, so glad I didn't marry THAT!  I saw girls who made it their mission to torment me still living in that podunk little town and thinking they're such hot shit.  Just seeing what time had done to all of them, it made me look back at my life and smile broadly. 

Looking at all those photos really did make me feel better.  They made me laugh, feel really skinny, and they also reinforced one thing...I have an extraordinary life in which all of those people, who thought it their mission to be horrible to me, have no place or even any sort of influence on my life now.  The one lesson that I'll always take away from my time in that horrid little excuse for a town is that I don't hesitate to beat the ever lovin' snot out of people who are malicious, narrow-minded or bigoted.  Most of all, I crack down and put the fear of God into people who bully other people just because they're different or walk to the beat of their own drum.

I guess ghosts from the past serve a brilliant purpose, to show you how you can rise above idiocy and come out a better person for it.  Most of all, it showed me that I'm still the smart, pretty girl and well, the other girls...they're still ugly and there is nothing outside of a Heidi Montag amount of plastic surgery that can ever fix that.  Sorry guys, I'm really trying to take the high road here.  BUT...(and there is always a 'but') seeing your childhood tormentors blazing over an open fire and seeing that those pathetic excuses for human beings now having exteriors that match their childhood interiors...for a bullied kid, it's wonderful.

At least I can say I've had a life of amazing experiences.  Most of all, I get to look in the mirror today and say, "Yeah.  I'm hot."  LOL!  Time has been very kind to me and I appreciate it more than you know.

As a side note:  I still know people who live in the town I grew up in.  It's changed from being 22,000 people to a little bit over 36,000.  There are some folks who I love dearly and think the world of, most of them being my sister's friends (they were the only good part of living there).  To them, I apologize.   But in all, I'm sorry to say, I really hate that little town and it's the reason that I despise small towns (and high school) with a passion.  There is no nutritional value in small towns that allow children to be bullied and dismiss it as growing pains.