Dealing with the past and what it actually means to be tough

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Although I am quite tired right now, I feel a strong urge to write this post. Lately I haven't been in the best of places mentally, especially since recently I came across a couple of items that reminded me of negative events in my past.

I think sometimes it is easy to mistakenly believe that being tough simply means to not let emotions get in your way, but upon closer inspection that is not the case.

Often the more negative voices we have in our heads are actually a collection of what others have said about us in the past. Whether the words are deep within our subconscious or are fairly well known to you, they often stem from hatred and criticism that isn't constructive.

Sometimes I talk about my negative past experiences here, and how they affected me at the time. But that's the thing. I talk about how they used to affect me, but seldom do I talk about how they continue to do so to this day.

A part of me would like to think that they don't, that I walked out of the experiences completely fine. In reality, however, things don't just happen in a vacuum, they impact you emotionally and contribute to your perspective on the World.

Being tough isn't about ignoring your emotions. I was once taught that it was. A teacher called me a wimp for complaining that I was being physically bullied by another student. Her advice, if you can even call it that, was to shut up and take it.

I have always hated the "just ignore it" advice when it comes to bullying. Not once did it ever work for me. I got so good at teaching myself not to react and hide my pain (both physical and emotional) that to this day I sometimes accidentally hurt myself and don't react.

People ask "Aren't you hurt?" and get confused when I reply "Yes" because I hide my pain without even thinking about it, so to them it looks as if the accident didn't hurt me.

Even when I ignored the bullying and hid my pain, it didn't make a difference. The bullying still continued. Hence, why I hate this piece of advice.

Granted, this is only my anecdotal experience so perhaps it does work in some cases. I'm no expert, and bullying does vary a lot depending on the situation and circumstances.

Personally, I think being tough and brave means continuing on despite it all, rather than having no fear, and bottling up your emotions. (Which is unhealthy).

Lacking fear isn't a sign of bravery. It's a sign of stupidity. What is truly brave is to approach a frightening situation despite your initial fears if you deem the risk to be worth it, anything else is just plain recklessness.

I’ve always seen you as a smart, sensible person.

I was bullied. I became numb to it. To be honest, the less reaction I showed to it, the less it happened.

People always looked for a reaction from me.

You found your own way to defeat bullying. You are actually doing pretty well for yourself.

You are correct. Being brave is not being fearless. Being brave is continuing on in spite of the fear. We get a lot of bull fed to us as children and spend most of our adult lives sorting it out. I am still discovering things I "learned" that were wrong.

I think very few children could "ignore" and not respond to bullying, even if they wanted to. A child will show the fear, disgrace, shame in some way and the bullies feed on that. In that sense, to ignore bullying is not helpful advice.

All these many years later, in spite of bazillions of successes and learning to hold my own in verbal sparring, I can still find my inner self feeling that childhood shame, sometimes sparked by even tiny exchanges.

One of the movies I watched this year was called The 15:17 to Paris, directed by Clint Eastwood. The movie was autobiographical. Two novel approaches used in this film were (1) it used many of the real individuals to play themselves in the movie instead of actors and (2) the movie used real film footage on the closing scene when these individuals received medals from the French government.

This film depicts true bravery. It is the bravery where you charge into the arms of death, knowing you will die, because it is the right thing to do. I see in one of the main characters Spencer Stone some Aspie traits. When Spencer was in Junior High, his mother met with his teacher. She thought that Spencer had ADD, or attention-deficit disorder (This term is now called ADHD). His mother also mentioned the fact that he was being bullied in school. When he applied for the military and was awaiting the placement results, he exhibited a motor tic (restless leg syndrome)

One of the scenes I found interesting took place when Spencer was at Fort Sam Houston receiving military classroom training. There was a Fort Hood like incident on the base and the loudspeaker blared out orders to shelter in place. The instructor said, “This is not a drill, Move! Get under your desk”. Everyone was obeying the order. Spencer was about to get under the desk but then he suddenly stopped. Then time slowed down. I could see the wheels in Spenser’s mind working through this logic dilemma. [If a shooter walks through the door, hiding under a desk would only make you a perfect sitting duck. This is a military order. Does disobeying an order from an instructor carry the same weight as a superior officer? If I disobey will it result in my court marshal. But this is a defective order. It is better to prepare to attack a terrorist. Ignore a direct military order. What good is following an order if you are lying on the floor dead in a pool of blood under a desk? Better to do it without permission and ask for forgiveness later.] He scans for a weapon. There is none, but there is a pen on the desk so he grabs it and strategically places himself at the doorway in order to confront any terrorist entering the classroom. He reasons, it is better to go down fighting. Then the loudspeaker blares out “This was just a false alarm”.

The instructor says, “Stone, what in the hell were you going to do with a ballpoint pen anyways?” Spencer answers, “I just didn’t want my family to find out that I died hiding under a desk.”

In the end he didn’t perceive the possibility this could be a drill, a type of lie. And he perceived it as real and acted accordingly. His strong sense of self-sacrifice and true bravery began to show through in this scene.

On 21 August 2015, a man on an international high-speed train on its way from Amsterdam in the Netherlands to Paris, France opened fire in a train carriage before his assault rifle jammed, and he was subsequently subdued by passengers. French police believe the incident to be an Islamist terrorist attack. The terrorist was later discovered to have been armed with over 300 rounds of ammunition with the apparent aim of using all of it to wreak havoc on all those who were onboard the train. French, British, and American passengers confronted the attacker; they received France's highest decoration, the Legion of Honor. Front and center in this brave act of defiance was Spencer Stone.

Maybe it's not exactly a matter of toughness, but I think not letting emotions get in your way is very important. These days, everything seems to be about emotions, as if there were no such thing as facts. That's a horrible way to try to accomplish anything in life. Decide calmly what your goals are, pursue them fiercely and screw emotions!



So your experience confirms you'll never get any sympathy from them; they just want you to shut up and not inconvenience them. Therefore, hiding your pain is the wise thing to do—it'll still hurt, but at least you won't invite more bullying than the bare inevitable minimum. Who knows? Maybe one day someone will be ashamed of their wimpiness because they can't suppress their natural signs of distress as well as you can.



It's clearly not meant to be helpful. Unfortunately, we fail to read the true message between the lines: "I don't care about your plight; just stop whining and leave me the hell alone, or else!"

I went as far as trying literally to pay no heed to a bully when I was already nineteen, by not talking to him at all, even when he addressed me. You can imagine how that turned out.



I thought I'd sort of learned to hold my own, too, in my young adulthood, when I'd spent several years without a single physical fight and stupidly believed they were a thing of the past I didn't need to worry about anymore, so the verbal sparring was all that mattered. Only at twenty-four, after reading 1984, did I realize physical violence underlies everything that motivates us, once I saw it painstakingly spelled out by the author.

Now I avoid verbal sparring, because I know my opponent can win at any time by challenging me to a physical fight and revealing me for the coward I am.



I vaguely recognize Spencer's reasoning as one I might have made, though certainly not under duress, being completely unprepared. However, it probably wouldn't have occurred to me that there was anything wrong if my family found out I died hiding under a desk. When it's carefully pointed out to me like now, I kind of understand I should be extremely ashamed, but the feeling's never truly sunk in and I forget it very easily, which, of course, I guess is itself shameful.

Incidentally, my parents often told me off in my early childhood for my shyness—read, cowardice, though I hadn't yet made the connection—and often said, in fact, that if it were up to me, I'd spend all day tucked under a desk. I guess that should have taught me better, but it didn't.

Sometimes I think that toughness means being able to quickly and accurately assess a situation and act accordingly.

Some people are so prone to anxiety that almost any change in their environment causes them to feel fear. These are the hypersensitive people; the princess who really does feel the pea under a dozen mattresses. I think it must be hell to live like that.

An example - let's say I am required to share a few remarks in front of an audience. I'm not good at thinking on my feet, I can rarely find the words I want under pressure, but can be eloquent when given time and privacy to collect my thoughts. Still, a situation that might completely unwind an anxious, hypersensitive person just makes me mildly uncomfortable. That's because I know I am not under any "real" threat. If my audience ignores my jokes or talks over my speech, is that the end of the world? Will I, or anyone else, die? Of course not. It's doubtful anyone will even think less of me, but if they do? So what? Is that the end of the world? Will I, or anyone else, die? and so on.

This is what I mean when I call myself a tough old broad. I value my thick skin, it has made life much more manageable. I am thinking of bottling that and going into business with a tonic that reduces hypersensitivity. What do you think is a good price point for that - $19.99 for a bottle, plus a second bottle free (you just pay shipping and handling)?

BeaArthur you set a good example. I am terrified of getting older because I fear I will have memory loss and be frail in other ways. When I get older I want to be a tough old broad like you!

Alas....I'll never be a tough broad

Do you still like me, Sarah?


(I'm just joking).

Well, thank you Sarah!

Not all older people have memory loss. It's true that I am frail. But I also am happier than at most any other time of my life. And research finds the same: often elderly people are happier than other age groups. I have learned some behaviors that give resilience, such as an "attitude of gratitude" (focusing on things I am grateful for, instead of things I feel resentful about). I like who I am, I can have a few good friendships and a larger number of good-enough relationships, and I have many interests and pastimes.

Sadly I also have numerous physical problems including chronic pain, and I have had depression on and off most of my life. But I try not to dwell on those things.

My mother is 84 years old----and sharp as a tack. She just renewed her social-work license.

Hmm. I partly agree with you. Although it is also important not to neglect your emotions completely, otherwise they can build up and explode before you know it, since by doing so you become out of step with how you are actually feeling, and so you end up blaming how you feel on minor things in your life whilst ignoring what is actually causing them in the first place. Don't let them get in the way, but don't completely ignore them either. It can be beneficial to find a healthy balance between emotions and facts. The ironic thing about your post was that you seem oddly passionate about putting emotions in their place (at the sidelines), which in itself could be said to be an emotional reaction.



I think that it's worth noting that my experience with that teacher doesn't exactly fit in with the typical standard you would expect from a school. My primary school was poorly run, and I had many teachers that were neglectful and some were even verbally abusive. That teacher didn't offer any sympathy, but that was hardly surprising considering the fact that she would often leave the school unattended with the rest of the teachers, and apparently was busy having an affair whilst her marriage fell apart, so I don't think my issues were exactly on her radar at the time.

Hiding my pain didn't actually make much of a difference, I still experienced a great deal of bullying regardless. In some cases it just made them want to bully me more, because they were desperate for a reaction. They enjoyed the challenge and wanted to see just how far they could push me.

Nothing wrong with having the memories.

Something wrong with allowing the memories to affect what's going on today.

I'm glad you're not a "lost dragon," in that sense. Since you have sort of found your niche.

Agreed.



I would say that a big part of my childhood, and something that still remains a significant part of my life, is my love of fantasy. Having a creative outlet back then helped me cope. Now I just continue to create because I want to, and because it's now my University work to do so. When I look back on some of the concepts I had back then, it's clear to me what inspired them.

For example, I had this idea when I was ten years old for this sci-fi dystopia about a World where it's common to have robot servants, but the tech companies wanted the robots to act more human so they employed underpaid workers to voice these robots and control them, and every time they essentially plugged in and took control of these robots they would forget who they were and see their family less and less... losing contact with humanity for the sake of making these robots seem more real in society...

Another ironic part of this scheme was that the workers were only supposed to say a select few options, leading to a non-personalised experience and therefore defeating the entire purpose. Yeah I know, that probably seems kind of dark for the mind of a ten year old. That's just how I was though. I wrote even darker stuff when I was nine.

When I think about it, this idea was probably partly my brain's way of processing the concept of superficiality and behaviour lacking in sincerity. Ever since I saw those dolls in my head teacher's office, I became intrigued with the thought of people hiding their emotions and false/faked positivity (due to their creepy unnatural looking smiles. The uncanny valley actually explains this, stating that the more human a non-human item becomes, the more their non-human characteristics stand out and our brain gets freaked out because it is unsure if it's a threat or not so we find tend to find it creepy). There were also teachers that tried to act as if they were fine, but were clearly not alright and so that made me think about the subject even more.

But there must be a reason for those emotions. Either it's something worth spending time and resources on or it isn't. In the former case, you tackle the problem rationally; in the latter, you disregard it. At any rate, emotions have no business ruling you, and they've outlived their usefulness once you've made this decision.



I am passionate about that. I'm used to depending on people who pressure me to act irrationally, and to suffering the consequences.



Yeah, it's tricky to find the least bad balance.