I had the bully trifecta in play as a kid: first, a lesbian mom. Second, smart ‘n nerdy. Third, poor in a rich school district. It was pretty much decreed that I was bully meat.
Yes, reported. The school said I was making too much of it, kids will be kids, and really, I probably needed a father figure.
Moderate to severe. Getting beat up after school with kids waiting to do so, etc., shoes thrown in school toilet, nasty names, singsong taunting, socially ostracized, you name it.
Of course I felt antagonized. I dealt by hating people in general. I’m still an asocial introvert. I like humanity; I hate people. Much easier to deal with them when I can’t see them.
It gets better as you grow up. Elementary and middle school were hell. High school was purgatory. By the time college rolled around, it wasn’t as bad, and as an adult, people generally don’t care. There are always jerks around, of course, but it’s, like, unrelated jerketry. Much easier to deal with too, as an adult, with confidence and education, as opposed to being in adolescent perma-angst. Seeing old schoolmates get fat, old, and divorced on Facebook and at reunions provides a healthy dose of schadenfreude, too.