Loosing a Ball or Why I dont let people get close

I am superman. I can dodge a bullet and have properly been named the “Man of Steel.” I have eyes that can perceive a myriad of things or bore holes through walls. I can fly, enough said. When I stand on the street corner in my spandex suit with my cape blowing in the traffic most people look at me like I’m crazy. A few cars even honk their horns in protest as I hold out my hand stopping traffic to let the attractive Lois type female cross the street.

 

At work I have been described as a Bear of a man. I have fierce conversations and often am intimidating to a few. Like the Man of steel I consist of a hard exterior. Except as a bear I can maul people to death with my words and somehow manage to enjoy the taste of my foot.

 

I am sure that in most of my life’s situations people see a very hard version of Bryce. I am task oriented at work and in other social venues I am less engaging and extroverted as I once used to be. I am often guarded and use sarcasm and a dry wit to rebuff or disengage from a conversation and keep things from becoming personal. I am great at avoiding questions and even switching the focus back onto people.

 

Yet, its all a ruse.

 

I am probably more sensitive than I’d like to admit. I get hurt easily. I often have to try not take things personally at work. I stay guarded in my castle because people see my sarcasm and wit and my tough looking demeanor and figure that I can take a sharp jab to the ribs about my flaws or shortcomings. The reality is I cannot. I have learned over the years to take less personally than I did when I was younger, but it is still hard.

 

Growing up I was never liked. I had very few friends in school and somehow even those that I did have had a way of leaving me because I wasnt cool. I can actually recount the names of my friends and the specific instances when they no longer became my friend and I was left alone as a small elementary school child, friendless.

 

I had such a hard time making friends in school that those that I did make I was loyal to. In 5^th grade the only real friend I had was Adam. Every day at recess we played 4 square. I would usually grab a playground ball and keep it under my chair as a way of guarding our daily ritual. I was often so excited because the fact that we had the ball meant other kids would play with us. Without the ball I was nothing, I was just the kid wandering around trying to find others to play with.

 

However, Adam was a social kid. He was liked by others and had a great number of friends. Some days Adam didn’t play with me, but I had the ball so that meant that I could easily find others to play with. 4 square was the game and I was often in the top 5 players of “All Time.” 4 square quickly became my only way to make friends or even be noticed. I can remember days in which I didn’t have the ball and Adam didn’t want to play with me. I spent my entire time wandering the play ground trying to find kids who would play with me.

 

I wasn’t liked in school and I was often made fun of. My arch-nemesis was a kid named Matt. My teacher didn’t believe that such a “nice” kid would be so mean, so I documented what he did to me and brought the list to her. So my teacher, Matt and I sat down to talk about everything. Nothing happened… Our little meeting just meant it got worse. I cried because no one believed me, or cared, or even did anything to fix it. I was powerless and alone.

 

I wanted so badly to be liked, so be a part of a social group. I acted out to get attention because without it no one cared that I existed. I remember running around in 3^rd grade calling people “Homo…. sapien”

I was so excited that I learned a cool word and didn’t really get the implications of what I said. I had learned it from one of the 5^th graders and he seemed cool so I mimicked him. I got in so much trouble it wasn’t even funny. Yet, the 5^th grader that taught me the word and encouraged the action got away free. The kid who didn’t really know what he was doing got punished because he acted out for attention. Not only was I an outcast but I also was a whipping boy. My mother once commented that everyone can do something and get away with it, yet the moment I did it I would get caught and in trouble.

 

I can still remember the day it all went down. I had gotten a ball early and had it under my chair waiting with eager anticipation for recess to play with Adam. Yet, Adam didnt want to play with me. He had a new group of friends that he was playing with. In this new group of friends was Matt. It was about 5 minutes from recess and Adam stole my ball from under my chair. I was livid. I was hurt. I was now alone, a no one, a discarded friend. The moment we were dismissed for recess I had one goal: To get my ball back.

 

I chased Adam down and took the ball from him, ripping it from his arms. His next words sealed my anger for him “Stop trying to steal my Ball.” I didnt steal his ball, he stole mine! I was taking back what was mine. Yet, being the kid no one liked no one believed me. All of a sudden Drew (a portly kid who never liked me), Matt and another kid were chasing me down and trying to steal the ball.

 

I was wronged and no one cared. I was rejected and no one step up to defend me. So, I fought back. I did all I could to keep my ball. The problem is that adults dont listen to kids. I was immediately dragged to the principals office and suspended from school for fighting. No one did anything to Matt, Adam or the other kids. I was acting in self-defense but I was the only one punished. Adam never played with me again. No one wanted to be my friend and no one cared.

 

Tears still come to my eyes when I recount this story. I wish the story just ended in elementary school, but instead it continues. I was never good at making friends so I often found myself alone. I didnt have a social group at school. I only knew how to “get attention” and never learned who I was or how to be me. I often became the center of attention because that was better than being ignored. I was often left out of group outings when I was on staff at Camp Tadmor because I wasn’t cool. I was demoted to a counselor in training after having been a counselor for a year at Tadmor when I returned for my 3^rd summer. I was eventually kicked out because I was acting out because no one cared for me, invested in me, or even wanted to be around me (I rolled a utility cart breaking the ankle of my passenger in mimicking the actions of the previous countless weeks done by the senior staff… not my wisest move, but still, instead of investing or caring for me I was discarded). In college things wern’t better.

 

I quickly learned in life that I was not the cool kid and no one cared. No older men invested in my life until I was 22. Even with those 2 men, I usually have to contact them to meet. Even college sucked. When I flunked out of college I soon found that I had no friends. All those people who claimed to be my friend were merely friends by proxy. They stopped calling, they dont write and I am sure I dont even exist now.

 

So, I learned to guard myself. I learned how to stop people from getting close because the moment they get close they will hurt you. The world is full of Adams, people who pretend to be your friend and then one day abandon you. The world is also full of Matt’s, spoiled brat kids who are going to pick on you and put you down. I keep my self protected because lets face it, no one really cares if your feelings get hurt these days. All while growing up I was told that when my feelings got hurt no one cared. My feelings were worthless and when they got hurt it was my fault. I shouldn’t be so sensitive, I should rather be calloused. I shouldnt care, I should “move on.”

 

So, I became the Man of Steel. I developed a wicked wit and an ability to keep people from getting close enough to see that the steel exterior is really nothing more than air. It became easier to keep people away than to let them close and risk being hurt again. Because one day they will steal your ball and you’ll be left alone on the playground of life with no other friends and no one else to play with. And when you cry out for help you’ll be punished and told that its all your fault you got hurt and they stole your ball.