One Of My Junior High Friends Was Secretly Bullying Me
I met my close friend from junior high a few weeks ago and she revealed that our class president told everyone in the class to isolate me before we were even classmates.
Chronology of Secrets Kept Close to My Chest
MIDDLE SCHOOL: Mommy, do you know how many fights I got into in middle school? To count I need more fingers than two fists can hold. I say it is for your honor. Like leaving the kids at school with scars is enough to keep them from snickering at your schizophrenia. It isn't, and it takes one too many suspensions for me to find that out. Schizophrenia and stupid are not synonyms! There is a boy in my class who uses the two interchangeably like that is enough for me to change how I see you. It isn't, and it takes one too many hits for him to get it through his head. Schizophrenia and stupid are not synonyms he knows that now, but Schizophrenia and embarrassment have been conjoined twins of torture in my life.
From an Ending to a Beginning
It first started back in middle/high school. I remember one of the schools I went to had a class where we actually had to read books. You were required to read a set amount of books, but certain ones could get you points. It was an odd thing, looking back on it now. But I'm actually grateful for the class, because it was the start of my love for stories.
The End of a Semester
I am very grateful for my job. It allows me to make many mistakes with my schedules and course plans, feel dread at the prospect of seeing certain faces in my classes (more than once a week, sometimes), and combat the narrow thoughts of other teachers who make my comments feel like timid dancers in a verbal minefield. These are very rare gifts, and the fact that I am paid for all of these privileges is sugar thrown on honey. A part of me knows that I do not deserve any of it, but I cannot stay away. I need the benefits.
At that time, she didn't like the most beautiful boy in her class, but she didn't like the second best girl in their class. Because she felt ordinary, the girl hid her feelings deeply in her heart, and no one told her. She just studied very hard, especially the physics and chemistry that boys are good at. She studied very well and was the best in the class except him. So for this reason, they had more contact than usual. She often found an excuse to ask him about the physical and chemical questions, and he answered them patiently. At the end of the question, facing the boy's serious expression and detailed explanation, the girl's little heart was full of happiness... One day when the boy was transferred to the girl's next table, when discussing the topic with him, the girl deliberately dropped her pen on the ground alternating with the boy, then deliberately pretended to put her hand on the boy inadvertently, bent down and picked up the pen
Sex education in schools is a taboo subject or not
If that sentence made you a little uncomfortable, I’m not surprised. As we have all probably gathered from the giggles and grimaces that fill our health classes, sex is one of the most taboo topics in America. I am a firm believer that it shouldn’t be.
What impact did coffee have on my exam day?
As many of us enjoy drinking coffee at least once a day, and many coffee lovers take it multiple times a day for various reasons such as feeling tired, bored, or having a headache,
Miss you miss love
When I was a junior, the editor in chief of the school newspaper gave me a close-up of campus news and asked me to interview alone about the popular hanging of bed curtains in student dormitories. One night after self-study, I followed the flow of people out of the classroom to the direction of the dormitory. Several girls in front of me chattered while walking. I went up to stop them, told them I was a reporter of the school newspaper, and asked them how many girls hung the bed curtain and why. They were a little embarrassed. One of the girls said, "in order not to be discovered by others."
Letter to a Former Teacher
I am writing to you to let you how I felt back then and how I feel now. For the two years I had spent in Hall Elementary School, I could say I was not at a happy place. And I thought my home life was too much. Well it was, but matters at the school were probably the worst. You were a teaching supervisor, the one I was supposed to look up to like a mentor. But you were not a mentor to me or I believe anyone else I knew. You yelling at me did not help me with my confidence or made me focused thoroughly with my work. Your words stuck with me for thirteen years even as I became an adult. I could not sleep well at night worrying about how I might do on a test and the amount of homework I received everyday. As I sat by my desk doing with my work, I always worried about my future. Soon I then realized how much that pressure put on me might affect it. It was everyday that I dreaded going to school, not just because of you and possibly other teachers. Whenever I was having a problem with my classmates, who constantly made fun of me or put me down, it's like no one would help no matter how much I would ask. At the time, I did not realize how much it would affect my mind state especially for someone with a intellectual disorder. Even after all these years I still took full responsibility for everything that happened. I felt sick to my stomach about certain situations to the point I became sick one day. I remember that day and what happened during and after that Monday morning. My stomach was hurting real bad as I was about to prepare to go to school. I told my mother how I was feeling that morning and she let me stay home. But the pain worsen and I vomited in the late morning. I took the whole day to rest so I would feel better for the next day. Just recently the same happened again, but given the circumstances and the situation that I am now, it was not as bad as I first thought. You and Ms. Smith were supposed to lead me in the right direction, give me a sense of balance and confidence and help me make the right decisions. But I felt that I didn't get that from you or everyone else. I missed out on socializing with many of my classmates due to the large amount of work you had given me just because I could not get a multiplication problem. It was that one thing that got you treating me more harshly than the other students. Then again, they probably had gotten similar treatment from you. I always thought about why you did treated me that way. Were you that way with other students before I came along? Did you had a teacher from your school years who was like that with you? Then came fifth grade, my senior year, where things were still up and down but I was under the supervision of someone else. However half of my fifth grade class had tease me worse than what happened in fourth grade. I was probably at a much more difficult place than I was the previous year. I had never felt such hate towards me until sixth and eight grade. Those years were probably more worse but equally it depends. Then once I entered middle school, your words and their actions continued to get to me deeply and throughout sixth grade I had sudden illnesses. But it was my eighth grade year that was similar to fifth grade but worse in some ways. Once I graduated and went to high school, I still felt I couldn't be the student, all because of how you made me felt. But I found comfort and I am peace with myself and one day we might cross paths again.
Second Stage of Depression
I have flunked many papers for my last semester during my Foundation in Science and I was forced to take extra classes with my subject lecturers after my course ended to graduate my course on time. My lecturers were willing to give me extra lessons for me so that I could at least pass my final exams and this gave me more pressure and mental health issue as I branded myself as a loser and I thought I was not worth any penny that my parents spend on me for my education. Most of the time I would lie to my lecturers that I could not make it for that session and would hide in the library studying and doing revisions all by myself. I would often ask my ex-classmates (even though they don't like me, they would still come to help me) and my seniors to help me with my revisions.
It was 83 degrees. A light springtime heat. A perfect coffee shop; a perfect patio with perfect seats, ice cold coffee that's sweet. I was spending my days as a ditz. Wondering around without a clue and spending too much like a fool. I could blame the heat and say it makes me overthink.
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