The bully writes back

A little history:

I was bullied by a group of people -- mostly girls -- on the school bus I rode from seventh to 12th grade. I very carefully never let them see me cry. But inside, that hazing and isolation burned a hole in my soul. I've never been willing to attribute much to it, but my therapist is now suggesting I suffer PTSD. Since I'm so desperately unhappy, and since nothing else is working, I agreed to start a course of PTSD treatment, which primarily involves desensitizing my very sensitive emotions to the effects of what happened to me.

So instead of blowing up when I feel rejected, I can conceivably say "oh, yeah, I feel like blowing up because this triggered some of the same feelings I had as a kid." Or that they simply won't trigger. Wouldn't that be lovely?

Anyway, one of the components of PTSD treatment is to re-live the situation.

About a month ago, coincidentally (it is eerie, really), one of the people who bullied me wrote me an email out of the blue, APOLOGIZING for what she did. I couldn't believe it.

After much thought and deliberation, I wrote her an email and asked her to tell me as much as she can remember about the situation, so I could use the information in my therapy sessions.

Here's what she wrote back:

Hmmm. I only remember one specific incident in particular. I don't even know particularly why I remember it. Probably because it was something I did all by myself just to be a bitch. You were sitting in the front seat. I sat behind you and I kept hitting the back of your seat the whole distance to school, just to be annoying.

I remember a lot of name calling on that bus. But it was directed at a lot of different people, not just you. The funny thing is that I dreaded that bus everyday for the same reasons you did. I think a lot of people did.

I can't speak for anyone else of course, but I always felt bad that I did to you what someone else did to me. Instead of standing up to MY bullies, I just became someone else's bully. I look back on it now and realize how chicken shit that was.

I think she's full of crap and told her so. This was my response to her:

You know, that isn't enough. You sought me out nearly 30 years later to offer a sincere apology. I doubt you wanted to apologize for one incident of kicking the back of my seat all the way to town.

You characterized me as a tough little girl to survive the hell you put me through. What do you mean by that? What made you say that? And why now -- so long afterward? My only conclusion is that it was pretty significant to you, too.

You said you hoped my life was great because I deserve that. Funny, but that's not how it is. My life is far from great.

If that's all you've got, so be it. But I sincerely doubt that or you would not have written to me in the first place.