Originally posted by BigMackCam That would have driven me insane. I'm not quite so bad in later years, but I used to be awfully claustrophobic.
Another story...
Back in my school days, I was generally a very mild-mannered kid. I stayed out of trouble... didn't fight 99% of the time (I'd been brought up that way, for better or worse), and wasn't very good at it for the other 1% - which was kind of a disability given the pretty rough area I grew up in (especially since I didn't have a strong regional accent - at least, not compared to the other primates)
At senior school, when I was around 14 years old, this very big, fat, rough lump of a bully, a couple of school years above me - Tom Sawyer was his name (I kid you not) - took his dislike of me further than usual. He sat on me and pinned me down so I couldn't move my body or arms. Then he started punching me hard in the face...
It wasn't the punching that bothered me so much... Although it wasn't pleasant, I had a reasonable tolerance and pain threshold for that (I'd long since learned the pain from a good punch was slightly delayed
). It was the fact that I couldn't move. My claustrophobia kicked in and I panicked, badly. After what seemed like an age but was probably less than a minute, I went half-insane, sat bolt upright (despite his weight, I guess I found extra strength from the panic) and head-butted him in the face. I won't ever forget the sound his nose made... quite sickening, really
He fell backwards, hands to his face, blood pouring. I got up, looked at him, told him what he should do (not appropriate language for these forums
) and walked off. I was shaking for a good five or ten minutes after that. Adrenaline, I guess.
The day afterwards, and for some time after, I was a minor hero at school... Even with a couple of my teachers. Which felt weird, as I wasn't even remotely proud of the event. But it made life a lot quieter at school, right up until the day I left.
I think it helped with my claustrophobia too... a little
Nice story Mike, and I can relate.
I had a similar youth, and fighting was, and still is, something I detested. My dad was in the Navy, and we moved a lot. I went to school in Long Beach, California, San Pedro, California, Chesapeake, Virginia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Norfolk, Virginia, Oak Harbor, Washington, Silverton, Oregon, Mountlake Terrace, Washington and Everett, Washington, eleven different schools in all.
At 14 years old I entered high school a 98lb weakling. I sucked at sports, and disliked phys ed class. A few of the jocks were always picking on me.
One day, in a stairwell one of them started in on me, pushing me and punching me.
I had reached a tipping point.
I hauled off and punched him square in the face with every bit of energy I could muster.
I hit him so hard my hand hurt.
He stood there blinking at me, blood beginning to run from his nose. I stood my ground and steeled myself for another blow, fists clenched and ready. Deep inside I thought he was going to beat me to a pulp, but I tried not to let it show.
One of the other jocks saw what happened, and came over, asking me if I wanted him to intervene on my behalf.
I looked the other guy in the eye, and said, "No, thanks, but I think this guy understands that I won't take his **** anymore."
And after that I was left alone by the bully jocks.