Splat. A True Story of People Making Life a Misery

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True story; At the age of fifteen on my way to class, confidence already shattered I felt something hit the back of my head. I ignored it. After all, that is what I did best, ignored the things that shattered me.
Then I felt something else hit me and I heard my ‘pals’ laughing as they walked behind me. And then the pelts started. One splat, two splat, more splats.
I suddenly realised what said splats were. I was being spat at, spat upon, my shattered confidence finally broken in a hail of phlegm.
When they saw I realised what was happening I was given a warning. Tell others and I’d be battered. My pals were great.

As I washed the spit of my blazer in the lonely toilet I realised something had to be done. I’d taken too many beatings, endured too much abuse, been frightened more times than I had a right to be. Imagine if you will. Guys you thought of as friends using you as a spit board. Getting their kicks out of hurling phlegm at you, covering you with their foul spit. And for what? Because I was a quiet, polite, eager to please kid? A decent fucking child. Splat. Something had to be done.

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Confidence can come from anywhere. There is water in the desert. If you are thirsty enough you’ll find it. I was thirsty. I found it.
Karate saved me. It took me weeks to find my courage. The courage needed to enter the dojo. The courage needed to don a white suit and ‘join in’.

37 years later and I’m still here. Roads travelled, fights fought, wrestlers wrestled. I’m still here.
If you think your child is being bullied, if you see he or she is nervous for no apparent reason then look for the truth. My parents, they pretty much lived in denial. Didn’t happen to their kid, why would it? They were people about town, no one would mess with their kid. But they did. Splat.
Seek out the truth for your child if you see the signs. Seek out the answer. You may find it lies in your local Martial Art gym. You may find it lies elsewhere, maybe music, art, dance, singing. Anything your child wants to do but is frightened of doing then encourage them to do it. It will bring them confidence.
It will bring them the confidence to turn around the the spitters and say “What the hell do you think you are doing, who the hell do you think you are doing it to?”
Give your child confidence, give them hope.
Many years later my tormentors turned out to be false prophets. I see them from time to time, now and again. I see them around. They now look at me in a different way. They look at me as the kid who came good, a fighter of repute. A fighter but still a gentleman.
They don’t spit at me anymore. Not anymore. Splat. It doesn’t happen nowadays.

You can visit Simon here and his Amazon author page here

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Giving Up

                                       Giving Up

Despite some time ago being  overwhelmed with fear I have always given 100% to what I do, to what I try to achieve in life, be it Martial Arts, writing, attempting to break into film making or any other walk of life I choose to tread. Occasionally it is a struggle but several almost life ending experiences taught me we have a short span on planet earth and must make the most of it so my ‘adventures’ are many. This can bring annoyance to some but I can live with that as I know it also brings hope to others and this to me makes it all worthwhile. I know this attitude has influenced my children and they too give 100% so my determination is just.

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Never give up. My dreams of being a full time writer only came with determination.

Now herein can lead to a problem. The positive exposure my path brings also bring exposure to many people and not all of these people have desirable ethics. In fact some have the exact opposite and wish to remove you from money, ventures and ideas quicker than a kid in a theme park. It stands to reason the more people I deal with the more percentage of Captain Crooks I am going to meet.

I have worked with Martial Artists who have sat and listened to my ideas of a joint venture only for them to disappear, removing all ties with me and then resurface months later claiming ownership to those same ideas…mmm?

I have employed book agents who promised me bestsellers and then I find out they were more scam than smooth, one of the bigger ones ending up in jail for his antics. Then there was the possible business partner who flashed big ideas of cash in front of me if I sold my soul to him. Well when I say soul I actually mean the rights to my books and life story. Luckily I smelt a rat and walked away unscathed. His mocking emails claiming I was to amount to nothing as he took Hollywood by storm just bounced off my head as I knew him for what he was. Last I hear he was packing fish in a factory…more Holyhead than Hollywood.

An exasperated friend asked me “Why you Simon? Why do you fall foul to these people?” The answer is simple; I am willing to take the risk. You see for every crook I have met you can double that figure (at least) with the number of decent people I know. “Lifters,” they are called.

People so decent, strong and honourable that they lift you toward your goals, sometimes at their own expense. I’ve been trained by World Champions as I drew near my Martial Art dreams and they listened as I poured out my fears. With a pat on the back and the occasional strong word they lifted me to said goals.

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Don’t let this be you.

I have been mentored by award winning writers who sometimes put aside their own projects to show me the way to write, spelling mistakes and all.

I have friends who believe in my ideas so much they take a chance and put them to influential third parties who may be an even bigger stepping stone to my eventual beautiful rewards.

People have helped nurse me back from serious illness and sat with me as I cried then stood and watch as I laughed…better.

So for every deviant there is a Saint, a hero, a friend. There is a lifter. That is why until my last breath is drawn I will never, ever give up. I will always have faith in myself.  Please be the same. Seek out your own lifters and with them will come your dreams as the fish packers stand at the roadside watching your parade go by.

With Courage Comes Hope.

Never give up. My dreams of being a full time writer only came with determination.

Simon Morrell is the author of From Bullied to Black Belt and An Everyday Warrior. Both tales are true stories and tell how Simon overcame crushing adversity to become a successful fighter and writer. Visit him here

Drains

Before I was three years old I had been lost in the woods and in a separate incident fallen down a drain where I remained for quite some time before being found and rescued by neighbouring housewives searching for me. When I was five I was spat at, name called and beaten by a fellow, vicious classmate. By the time I was six I became very drunk on a family holiday abroad, spending the next day badly hungover. The mayhem, drinking and attracting violence stayed with me for most of my years before I fell to a condition known as agoraphobia. I binned all four afflictions when I found Martial Arts and beautiful love in the form of my wife and three children.

Then as I entered my thirties, those afflictions (minus the agoraphobia) returned. Violent men led to me to heavy drink which bought back the mayhem. Martial Arts and my healthy passion for the fighting world disappeared and my family almost followed until I found myself lying in a hospital bed on the brink of a disastrous adventure from which I may not have recovered. ‘Not again’ I thought to myself ‘Not again.” No more would I let mayhem take from me what was mine. It was time to climb out of the drain….and so I did. I have been called a failure…I am seen as a Father, I have been called a spaz…I have been successful, I have lost and I have won, I have been hated and I have been hugged but perhaps most importantly I have been called a waster and yet I have been named Warrior. I’ll leave you to judge as you read the book An Everyday Warrior, but hold on…it gets bumpy.

An Everyday Warrior is available hereImage