I didn't really start feeling different until about 5th grade. This may be since my family had moved several times because of my Dad's work and I had changed schools several times along the way.
It was in 5th grade that I started experiencing my first serious bullying. I wasn't used to dealing with harassment like that. Coupling my thin skin with my then bad-temper meant that I spent quite a few days in the office, and was probably the only 5th grader in my school to be suspended after fighting a 7th grader. With the help of my parents, I began to develop more patience and my fights stopped for a long time. The bullying however, did not, and I didn't know what to do with all the anger and pain I felt. By 8th grade, I was internalizing most of it to the point where I often became physically ill. I began to have migraines and felt depressed often. A month of especially vicious bullying that year came to a head when a student kicked me in the back of the head while I was tying my shoes [I have one hand, so it takes a little longer]. I was in the hospital overnight with a concussion while he received an in-school suspension on a half-day.
The bullying eased off for a while after that, although I remained depressed long after the last incident. It was in my Sophomore year of High School when the teasing and abuse began again that I started to act differently. I don't know if the growth spurt that made me 2 inches taller over the Summer had a part in it, but as far as I was concerned, I was done with passively enduring the bullying. I had changed; rather than being the bubbly hyper kid I used to be, I was stoic. It quickly spread that 'pushing my buttons' no longer had the same entertainment. Those who tried physical abuse found out swiftly that I did not tolerate it. I was punished by the school more in the following 12 months than I had been in the previous 10 years combined. But by my Senior year, I was finally left alone, and I was able to put away those kind of responses.
***NOTE:I made quite a few mistakes in doing what I did. I would not counsel anyone to take the course of action I took. But I made those decisions for myself. As wrong as it was to retaliate in kind, I felt like I couldn't rely on my school's course of disciplinary action to protect me. As wrong as it was to let myself act on anger and rage like I did, part of me enjoyed sending a message to these kinds of people that they'd understand. But it's thanks to my family and friends that I didn't let the anger define the person I was becoming.
The peace I received in my Senior year was remarkable; while I was still teased from time to time, it was manageable enough that I could I fall back upon the mental processes I'd been taught by my parents and counselor to strengthen my patience. My introduction to College was also a welcome surprise in that most people were much more mature by this point, and the question of bullying was a moot point. I'm now to the point where my High School past is entirely behind me; my friends at college can't imagine me ever being angry. I've worked so hard at remaining calm and laid-back that its become second nature. While I still stress about school and assignments, it's easy for me to recognize that this is a much better part of my life.