What to expect when your brain wants to kill you excerpt from chapter: THE MASK

"Were you bullied as a kid?"

I've been asked that question a lot, especially by Pdocs and therapists. I'm not really sure why. I know my dad was. Someone shot a firecracker at him when he was little. I know my friend was after he did a whoopsy in his pants on a Grade 6 field trip. I've seen people bullied my entire life, both adults and children, but I have never been the target.


I guess the Pdocs and Therapists were trying to establish if there was some childhood trauma that could inform my depression. I told them nothing was there. My childhood was happy with no need or want. My only fear was that of being bullied, and I took steps to protect myself.

I watched in silence as others were attacked. Empathy would surge through my veins, but never with enough courage to help. When they were bullied, I was too. I made note of the target, his tragic flaws and what made him so susceptible to abuse. Then, I made sure I never made the same mistake myself. I internalized what I saw and shared in the shame and tears, all the while doing my best to blend in so as not to be the next target. I'm sorry to those I let down. I should have been there for you. Instead, I ran away and hid behind my mask (figuratively, not literally). I adjusted my expression and manner based on whoever I was with. People saw in me what they expected. And it worked. I was never bullied.


Over the years, though, I became my own worst enemy. Behind my mask, The Critic was relentless in his criticism and ruthless with his words; he cut me down again and again, draining me of my worth and self-compassion. By trying to hide from bullies, I created my own, worse than I had ever witnessed.

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