Written at the beginning: This chapter is dangerous, read it quickly.
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Before I officially get into the topic, I have a personal experience that I would like to share.
Unfortunately, we, Fang Muquan, have also experienced school bullying.
When my grandfather was still alive, he had his own "land" in his compound in the countryside, which was both a flower garden and a vegetable garden. I like that small world, so every year and festival I would go back to my hometown and learn to water, fertilize, and eliminate pests and diseases with my grandfather.
Unfortunately, my skin is neither white nor exposed to the sun, so I always look like a black mud monkey when I come back from my grandparents' house, and I have been laughed at and scolded by my parents many times. I was still young at that time, so I only cared about having fun and never took it seriously.
Until I went to junior high school.
I clearly remember that there was a boy in the class who took the lead in ostracizing me for no reason. When I spoke, he would scream and repeat next to me in a poor local accent. Wherever I walked or touched, he would immediately wipe it with a mop and paper towels, or put his hand in front of his nose and slap it hard, with a very disgusted expression. .
So within two weeks of school starting, I was forced to become a "dirty country bumpkin" in the eyes of my classmates. Everyone avoided me if they could, as if being too close to me would infect me with the stench and rusticity. I also gradually became very afraid of getting close to others, and I didn’t dare to meet anyone’s eyes for fear of seeing avoidance and disgust in their eyes.
It’s funny, I really thought that I was hated by everyone because I was too dark and dirty, so I never dared to take off my school uniform jacket at school. Even in the summer, I wore long sleeves and didn’t dare to show my arms for fear of getting dirty. their eyes. At the same time, I also developed an acquired mysophobia, brushing my teeth frequently until they bled, and bathing like crazy until my mother scolded me for wasting water.
Later, I didn't even want to go back to my hometown to visit my grandparents. Occasionally when I went back and my grandfather would happily take me to the yard, I would find excuses not to bask in the sun, and would rather sit in my room and do questions.
My grandfather knew nothing about my concerns or awkwardness. He only thought that his grandson changed his gender after going to school, became more interested in studying, and lost interest in these things. He felt regretful and happy about this. I felt very guilty. I really enjoyed tending to his flowers and plants and tinkering with the vegetables and potatoes with my grandfather. However, out of self-esteem and various reasons, I still felt guilty and sad while turning a blind eye to my grandfather’s lonely expression after his invitation was rejected.
I excluded myself from school and my grandfather just to prevent that boy and other classmates from rejecting me in school.
In this way, I stayed at home for a summer vacation, looking at my skin and smelling it. I felt that I was not as "dirty" as before, and it was much harder for me to have the confidence to integrate into the group. But I soon discovered that whether I was dirty or not had nothing to do with whether the boy bullied me or not. No matter how I behaved, he was still keen to cause trouble for me.
Papers were scribbled on, textbooks and homework books were lost inexplicably, money was "owed" for some reason, and so on. It's all trivial. If you mention it to the teacher, it won't be taken seriously. If you mention it to the parents, the parents won't think it's necessary to worry about it.
In the end, every day was spent on tenterhooks. It was so painful. I didn’t dare to leave my seat, because once I left, my pencil case might be gone. Even after school, I didn’t dare to leave my books and test papers. In the desk compartment, even if the schoolbag fortress exploded, I insisted on carrying them all away. Then when I went home, my parents scolded me, "Why is this child so solid-minded? He is so stupid" (laughing).
It's not that I haven't resisted, but it's useless. I will be blocked in a corner of the class or in the toilet, surrounded by a group of people and kicked. I can only see many feet and legs in my field of vision, and all I feel is pain.
I also tried to talk to my parents about whether I could transfer to another school, but there was only one key junior high school in the small county. My parents felt that there was no benefit in transferring, and they didn’t understand why I wanted to transfer. Even though I mentioned that I was bullied in class, my parents still felt that it was just a joke among children and that it would be over soon. The situation remains unchanged.
So gradually, I got used to it. Later, when I found out that my homework book was gone, my first reaction was that I found it very early and it was too late to make up for it.
What impressed me deeply was that in the second half of the second semester of junior high school, the teacher of another class was transferred. The class she was responsible for was split into two halves, half merged with the class next door, and the other half merged with our class. There were many new students in the class, and I got chatting with two of them, and we had a good time in the first few days.
It didn't last long. It didn't take long for them to realize that the general direction of the class was to bully me, so A among them also bullied me with that boy. B didn't do this, but he didn't stand on my side either, and just stayed away silently. He looked at me, as if he didn't know me at all, and acted like he didn't see me every time.
Looking back, my mental state was very poor during those three years of junior high school. I don’t want to go to school. I feel anxious when school starts. I can’t sleep well. I don’t dare to raise my head when walking. I often think about jumping off the building. If I jump, I will be relieved. Otherwise, I plan to take the kitchen knife at home to school and slap it in front of my eyes. In front of the whole class, I hacked that boy and his followers to death one by one to see who else dared to bully me.
But every time I wanted to put it into practice, I couldn't help but think about how much trouble my parents would be in if I really did this, so I shrank back the idea I had just had and continued to go to school with fear.
It wasn't until I got through these three years, graduated from junior high school, and passed to high school with passable grades that I finally got rid of the group of people who bullied me.
However, my mental state has not improved. Looking back now, I was extremely possessive of my belongings at that time, and my mood swings were also very large, and I would be extremely stressed over even the smallest things.
I remember that during a break in my freshman year of high school, the person sitting in front of me was in a hurry to fill out a form, so I said hello and temporarily took my pen to use. As a result, I reacted extremely violently. Not only did I start trembling, but I also yelled at her. According to her, my eyes almost popped out of my head at that time, and they were all bloodshot, as if I was trying to eat someone.
I know I'm not normal, but I really can't control it. At that time, I would feel that if you touched my things casually, you didn't take me seriously, that you looked down on me, and treated me like a mud dog, the kind who could kick anyone who walked by.
Even at home, if my mother changed the position of my notebook, pencil case, etc., I would feel that my belongings had been violated, and my heart would be so blocked that I could not breathe.
Even a few years later, when I was admitted to college, I thought I was almost good enough. But when I joined the Go club and played chess with my classmates, I was white and he was black. The moment he took the captured white piece away from the board, I Immediately, my heart was beating wildly, my stomach was twitching, I felt a sense of fear in my heart, and my internal organs were tightening.
I can’t remember how long it took me to finally get out of the psychological shadow of those three years and become an adult with normal emotions. I can’t remember how many methods I tried during this process, such as meditation and meditation. Therapy, psychological counseling...
Even so, when I see relevant entries and news about school violence, I still recall what happened in the past, and inevitably think about the boy and whether he will realize his mistake and whether he will I feel guilty, sorry, I will remember better and won’t do it again in the future.
Although, what is a little funny is that after I graduated from college, I went back to my original junior high school to give a lecture. At that time, I actually met the boy who took the lead in bullying me in school. At that time, we were seven or eight meters away from each other, not face to face, but I recognized him immediately, and then like an animal that had been shot, I started to tremble reflexively, my heartbeat kept beating, and I almost immediately He froze in place and dared not move.
As a result, he acted as if nothing had happened. When he saw me, he smiled and came over to greet me. He looked very nice to me. It was as if those days when life was worse than death only existed in my memory and were made up by my imagination. .
First I thought it was ridiculous, then it was funny. Later, I attended several junior high school reunions. Without exception, whether it was the boy or the people who bullied me with him, they had no memory of what they had done to me back then.
I am the only one who remembers everything in my mind, and I am the only one who has been affected by psychological trauma for so long.
I'm sorry that everyone came here to read a movie review, but you listened to me forcefully tell the story of such a personal experience.
Before writing this article, I seriously considered whether to "use the topic" and call on everyone to pay attention to school violence and boycott school violence. But as I write, I feel that these extra divergent and dry slogans may not be as real as me personally dictating a memory.
The above is a true story that once happened to me. It is a trivial example among countless school bullying incidents.
I am standing in the perspective of a victim/being bullied and share my hurt and feelings with you. I will not stamp the right or wrong here and leave it to everyone to think for themselves.
I want to say that this is school violence.
Those fists that do not hit the "real place" and do not hit the flesh are also considered campus violence.
The occurrence of campus bullying cannot be attributed solely to one person. In fact, in addition to the bullies, the absence and indifference of parents and school officials, the conformity and onlookers among students, and the silent majority, it is the convergence and mixture of small malicious intentions from many aspects that will lead to the final result.
I don’t know how many people like me have suffered from school violence and have suffered or are suffering from unimaginable mental trauma. I can only say that school violence and domestic violence have a long-lasting and far-reaching impact on young people who are not yet mature and are still growing up, and can even affect their entire lives.
——So, back to "Daytime Rain".
The "protagonist" in this film is also the "villain" Mawson. He embarked on a life that was similar to mine in the first half and completely different from mine in the second half.
When I look at him, I seem to be able to see myself as a teenager whose mental state was in jeopardy due to school violence, on the verge of collapse, and who finally gave up tolerance and picked up a kitchen knife instead.
To use a fashionable word to describe it, it is the if line.
Mawson is like me, like the if line of other students who have suffered from school bullying.
We can either cowardly endure and spend our lives in a huge shadow, or we can survive the ordeal and spend the rest of our lives healing ourselves.
And Mawson, he is different from us.
He stood at a fork in the road of fate and chose revenge.
"Rain of the Day" is a tragic revenge of a teenager against campus bullying, adolescent growth, and the entire society.
3200+, I feel like this chapter is going to be gone, I’m not sure, I’ll give it another try.
(End of chapter)
