In the army, my nickname was “Chill” due to my laid-back nature.
But in basic training, my nickname was “Psycho” due to a fight I got into, or rather that someone chose to get into with me.
I guess to them it seemed safe to pick on someone about half their size.
I believe that’s the only time I’ve ever put someone in the hospital.
And nope, I don’t regret it a bit. I’d do it again. Bullies should be smacked down, hard.
The drill sergeants actually thanked me afterward for getting rid of that idiot.
I faced no penalties at all.
Why “Psycho,” though?
Because after the guy was already dazed, even though I am not very coordinated, I was so annoyed and tired of this guy, I did some weird spin move and kicked the guy in the side of the head.
I’m sure it wasn’t elegant or like in an action movie, as my feet are about as coordinated as a bag of biscuits, but as I said the guy was already dazed, and I was awash in not quite “rage,” but the sort of controlled focused awareness one gets when fighting.
That kick up side the head was the whole “hospital” part.
I should’ve stopped before that, but I was fucking fed up with this dude and might’ve killed him if the drills hadn’t stopped me.
I’m glad they did, but I regret not at all what I did.
I believe that’s the first time I’ve ever told anyone that nickname, or that story, as I’m not proud of it really, but it’s true about me and it’s my life. Anyway, only 2-3 people read this blog, and I know and like them all. Anyone else stumbles across it? Such is life.