Provocation and consequences
Thinking back to the bogeyman incident, I still occasionally mull over why it became so significant in my life. I’ve had other scary things happen to me, but nothing that became such a major event like that. It truly was a turning point in my life. Sometimes I wonder what things would have been like had it never happened. In some ways it seemed like it happened for a reason, though at the time I could not see past the immediate situation. I have to also consider what was going on in my life at the time, and very little of it was good. I had only lived in my new house for about a year, and things were not going well for me. High school was no fun in my previous school, but my new school was becoming hell on earth. I was always unpopular in school, and maybe only had a couple of friends, if I was lucky. Being a nerd was tough, and the older I got, the harder it became. Worse yet, all of that was compounded by the fact that I entered the 11th grade in the middle of the fall semester. I was bullied day in and day out, and only a few of my classes offered a short period of peace from the torment. Anytime I was not in school was a relief, so summer offered me a temporary escape.
Life at home wasn’t so great either. My stepfather was still working at this time, but when he was home he was always drinking. This excessive imbibing made him very grouchy and negative, to say the least. He was always nagging at me and my mom, about all sorts of really minor things. While he was not physically aggressive, he was very much the verbal abuser. There was literally nothing me nor my mom could do right in his eyes. And this wore on my mom as well, and once in a while she would end up in the psychiatric ward of the hospital for a few days. Much later, after my stepfather had died, she confided in me that she told her doctor she was suicidal just so she’d be hospitalized in order to get away from my stepfather for a few days. Luckily my parents had very good health insurance. So, I was nagged at and harassed by my stepfather over literally everything and anything while I was home, and I was bullied at school. The only peaceful times I had in those days was when I was either alone or with my mom. My grandmother also lived in the house with us, and I had no problems being around her either. She hated my stepfather but kept her mouth shut for the most part. There was really nothing that could be done about my stepfather, as he thought he was right all the time and would never seek help for his problems. I had complained to my mom about what was going on at school and this is one of the few times she totally let me down. She advised me to stop wearing heavy metal t-shirts to school and maybe the other kids would leave me alone. But she couldn’t see that other kids wore much the same thing, so my choice of clothing wasn’t the issue. I met with the guidance counselor a few times at school, and he said he’d have a talk with some of the bullies. Well, suffice to say, nothing changed.
This was very much a dark time for me. The sun shined as it always had, the dawn came each day, but in my mind it was always midnight. There were a few times where I thought about checking out of life early. And sometimes I did consider searching for a suitable bridge, as I was able to drive and had access to a car. Perhaps it is a good thing I grew up in a time without the internet. But I decided against that as I knew it would ruin my mom and my stepfather (and other family members as well). All I could do at that point was to suffer with it. Riding my bike, walking the dog and exploring the neighborhood became some of my only ways of escape. I had my art, and that helped a lot, but not enough to ease my unhappiness. That was also the case where I had lived before we moved. But even so, all of those outlets were not enough. I was still miserable. During that summer of 1987 I knew that in the fall I’d have to return to Hell Hole High to complete my senior year so I could graduate. My stepfather wasn’t going to change for the better either. And then, along came the bogeyman with his house that loomed outside of my bedroom window and blocked my view of the winter sunset. That was not unlike going to a movie or concert and some tall person plunks down in front of you, blocking your view of the show. But this would be permanent, and we could not just get up and move. Little things I cherished were being taken away and destroyed. Now a special place where I’d walk the dog and get away from everything was vanishing forever. That was even more depressing.
There was only one thing left for me to do in order to deal with my problems. To check out of life was like giving up and losing in the end, and I’m not fond of losing. Such a choice would hand victory to my tormentors. The only other option was to fight back. I did my best to verbally defend myself against my stepfather, and of course walk on eggshells around him to try and avoid criticism. That was all I could do in that situation. But this interloper could not be tolerated. Nor could some of the worst bullies in school. Yes, I had left out some of the details regarding the bogeyman incident. I did go over to the construction site ever so often, and I did a little bit more than just looking around. In my mind this was just another intrusion and assault on me, and I felt I had to try and stop it. It seemed like everything I did, or tried to do, at that point in my life, ended up turning to shit. It would seem like I’d get a little ahead of my problems, and then new ones would crop up and some of the old ones would come roaring back with a vengeance. Sometimes when I went to the bogeyman’s house, I’d bring a magic marker with me. And in no uncertain terms I’d vent my frustrations on whatever surface was available and easy to write on. I took care to not write on anything that would show once construction was completed. I only defaced plywood and other materials that would eventually be covered by wallboard and siding. This seemed to be one of the few things in my life I could somewhat control. As for the appliance and material thefts, I had nothing to do with those nor do I know who did. And at the time I was unaware that was going on. So yes, the bogeyman had at least a few reasons to want to go looking for someone. Although I never caused any monetary damage, I suppose my angry magic marker musings just put the icing on the cake for him. His attack on me was not entirely unprovoked. It was like a flapping red flag finally goading a bull into charging after it has been tormented for a while. And so I got the brunt of the charge and then some.