They Say Loneliness Teaches Love

On my first day of Kindergarten, I remember sitting alone while the rest of the students were making friends. Looking back, I realize I was always agoraphobic. It never affected me until Kindergarten, because my brain was more developed than in pre-school. In third grade, that’s when I see things spiraling downward. My dogs got out and were killed on the freeway. I developed a special bond with my teacher when she saw something was different about me. She met with my parents, and gave me a stress ball because I wasn’t concentrating. She threatened legal action upon the rest of the class and told everyone they better not hurt me. I started smoking weed right around this time, and everyone started making fun of me. That teacher passed away to Leukemia the following year, so there went my last hope.

In fourth grade, I would walk into the bathroom and get beat up on a daily basis. Kids were gambling in there, and the teachers either never knew, or just didn’t care. I was choked, broken nose, peed on if I fought back, and I was willing to try any escape I could get my hands on. I called a bully a name, and he pushed me and my face hit the ground and blood went everywhere. My nose now is huge from so many breaks, and I was told I had a dog nose. One of my friends was harassing two brothers a grade higher than us, and I wanted to fit in so I started harassing them too. In middle school I didn’t dress down for PE, and fell into a pecking order. I was bullied, so I became a bully. God I feel like crap for it. I really do. It haunts me to this day, and that is my fault. I was often hit with shoes and chased around the locker room while the PE teacher sat on his drunk butt sleeping until the bell rang to exercise. Then I’d get punished for not dressing down. I soon realized this was my best option. If I didn’t dress down, I was separated from the class. I really don’t know why I rarely showered, but that was another thing I was teased for. After a while I vowed to never please these people. 9th grade was okay, at first. I was in a continuation school, and was actually treated like an adult. But, my parents lost the house to addiction, and we had to move out of state. I get up there and got along with nearly no one because most of them were racist. Someone was supposed to score for me, but never came back with the stuff, or the money. I tried fighting him, but the teacher showed up and told us don’t fight. That didn’t do any good for my reputation. That pissed off just about everyone. Someone got busted for pot on the bus and blamed me, so there it goes again. I turned into a punk rocker after making friends with one of the only people who seemed to care. Then the principal had it out for me. He told me to leave school at lunch and volunteer at the animal shelter, and he said he would pass me. I get finished with tenth grade, and I was so happy to be a Junior. About a week into that year, the principal pulls me out of class and says I never passed tenth. This is when I gave up on everything. I drew obscene images of him and other people with markers in the bathroom, and they couldn’t prove it was me. So I kept at it until I got arrested and placed on probation. I wanted to leave that town for good. I took a pack of party poppers apart to make one big one, and took it on the bus. I had no clue what the next year of my life would be like. I threw the thing and it hit someone who claims it was a bomb. The cops show up, and the stupid paper gets sent to the crime lab, who said this is not a bomb you guys, quit wasting our time. My probation officer weasels her way through some things, and then tells me she’s backing out because it was a conflict of interest. I get sentenced 1 year in juvenile prison. By this time, everything was set in stone, so I was screwed. The court appointed me an attorney who degraded me, so I ask family to hire a good attorney. I get set up with a great PO. I take the GED test, and pass with flying colors, end up becoming laundry manager, and get out of jail for good behavior and go to a youth authority home. I make several hundred bucks, and my PO tells me he’s releasing me without parole. I move back near where I grew up. Started drinking at 21, got really bad with it for a while. I would chug whiskey. Not sip. Chug it like water in a desert. Two bottles of wine was a light drink for me. Sometimes I would go through a case by myself, and if friends were around, I would purposely blackout to have rumors to laugh at the next day. I realized I had a problem when I would wake up with a drink and not remember where the puke came from. The memories of me and my dad arguing over his drinking started getting to me, so I quit cold turkey. I have lost a lot of friends since I quit drinking, but I have a small number of people that care in my life.

I’m now in transition to becoming a Vegan, and do freelance writing. I’ve written two articles on a syndrome I have called Aspergers. In short, I’m high functioning Autistic. My life has never been better. If it wasn’t for all the years of pain, I would not be where I am today. I am truly thankful for all of the turns life has thrown my way. Wow, I made it through this story without crying!

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