Friends Part 2

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Six grade ended up sucking. Things never got better. I was so isolated that I was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder and a variety of other problems. The real diagnosis was “problem student” which meant assigning me to special ed classes instead of “normal” classes. I learned quickly that I was just a dollar sign to the principal, all of us “problem students” were.

Social anxiety meant I was unable to cope with situations or people. I understood everything taught and actually was the brightest student but I just had issues dealing with other kids and I was always the one to be blamed with the others took issue with me. I couldn’t complain, I couldn’t ask to get put in a normal class, I couldn’t explain to my situation to anyone.

My parents were no help. I was just the loser child that fought with everyone. They gave up on trying to understand me and were just biding their time until it was time to kick me out of the nest.

I endured. I went through three years of isolation. I had nobody to talk to, nobody to confide in, nobody to help me when I needed help. I was always that person for others, but I never had that person myself.

Vacations were spent inside doing as little as possible. My only companions were books and the trust TV. I cooked for myself and tried my hardest to not make a mess and went out so infrequently that it was believed that I was lost when I walked down the same block I had lived on since I was born.

Classes were normally spent trying to stave off boredom. I wrote what I needed to write then endured the laughter of having terrible penmanship due to losing the ability to write like a normal person early and being ignored for years in favor of “normal” kids as I was seen as too dumb to bother with. This always led to the argument over my being allowed to type which led to my being kicked out until the “regular” students were done so I could type my work and get credit for what I wanted to say.

I was always the one removed for being a distraction. I got to know the number of spots on the tile floors and number of cracks in the floor. I couldn’t count the number of times I wanted to just get up and walk home, not giving a damn about what would happen to me as I knew nobody would care.

The only use I had to the school was that I saved dozens of students from flunking out. I kept too many students to count from failing. If I was in a “normal” class I would have been given awards and prizes but being the loner stuck in the outcast classes I was ignored and whatever I did went unnoticed.

It’s tough being the one blamed for everything but I had my uses to the others. When it started to get time that hormones took over the students I was the one who was there to serve as the buffer between the girls and the boys. I didn’t mind doing it for them, they were the closest to being decent to me and with them I was at least able to endure my time in the school with less issues.

I was a magnet for the boys who wanted to impress the girls the wrong way. They appreciated that I would endure the abuse to show just how nasty the boys were. It didn’t matter how good looking the boys were, if they were acting that way to me then they would not hesitate to act the same way to them.

The girls in my class may have been the only ones to end up without dates in 6th and 7th grade. They were also the same girls who didn’t end up pregnant nor come to school with bruises clearly from being roughed by boys on “dates” that were really just grope sessions for the bigger, stronger boys. It sucked but eventually they appreciated that they dodged a lot of bullets while I just stayed the course and didn’t complain about what happened to myself.

Outside of school was no different that inside. When my parents were focused on me I simply had nothing to say. When they actually talked with me they weren’t interested in talking, they simply wanted to know what I was telling others just in case someone came sniffing around to check on the weirdo loner.

I endured. I got used to isolation. If not for the final connecting of all computers to the internet I might never have survived the next four years. The information age came in with a bang and what I was forced to endure for my own sake turned into a valuable commodity as I was the go-to person for help as I could get things done fast and with clarity that nobody could get thanks to simply being able to type out words just as fast as they were thought up.

But as usual that came with a price. Being a computer person meant being all alone socially. Being all alone socially put another target on my back yet again. This time I couldn’t escape, this time I was thrown to the wolves. I finally got my wish, I was going to be treated normally as my silent pleas were finally listened to and I was able to get be “normal” again.



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This story is 942 words long.