About to Write a Book on my Horrible Childhood… Pt1
Okay so I’m gonna talk about stuff on here because my therapist moved in May and I know I’m never gonna find someone else as amazing as her so I’m gonna vent on here from now on as part of my self-therapy plan to keep me in motion.
ALSO I HAVE A LOT TO GET OFF MY CHEST
I don’t care if anyone reads this for the record
So first let me explain that I don’t have friends. Literally. I don’t even have acquaintances or old friends I talk to sometimes, nothing like that. I have my mom, but I don’t want to bother her because she’s always so stressed and over-worked and the rest of the time she’s dealing with my younger sisters. I don’t go to college, I don’t have a job, I don’t go on facebook anymore, I hardly ever leave the house. My social-related anxiety prevents me from doing a lot of things. Which in turn causes depression. I take meds but I have my good periods and my bad periods. You wouldn’t know any of this if you met in person because I’ve spent my entire life since preschool learning how to act normal in social situations.
The basics of what I learned when I was a kid was that people were going to automatically not like me and I should do everything I could to avoid drawing attention to myself.
(Look how cute I was though)
So the #1 way to avoid attention at school is to not talk. EVER. Unfortunately I made up for it with crying. I didn’t like preschool except for the art projects and I felt special because I could read the names of colors. I liked the pony toys. Other than that I hated it and I never played with any of the other kids. It sounds cliche but I’m being 100% serious when I say I always felt like I was different from everyone else, 4 years old and I felt like something was wrong about me.
In kindergarten I cried every single day. My mom would drop me off in the morning and I would scream and cry and beg her to let me stay with her. Usually my teacher had to pull me off her while my mom ran out the classroom and I would just keet crying through the whole first half of the day, refusing to participate in anything. Once our class made gingerbread and we went to the cafeteria to pick them up after they baked it all for us and I was upset that day and the teacher had to carry me and I could tell she was annoyed that I wasn’t excited like the rest of the kids. I couldn’t tie my shoes so I always had to ask the teacher and one time she finally got mad and told me to get on of my classmates to do it. This trend of adults acting like I was ruining their day continued for years and years and is a small part of why I never trusted them.
In kindergarten our teacher would make us all line up at the back of the classroom where the bathroom was and we had to go before recess. At recess we would play tag like normal kids and usually boys chased girls and one time a boy grabbed my shirt and kept pulling and wouldn’t let go I eventually fell and he laughed at me. When I told the teacher she said that I shouldn’t keep trying to get the boys to chase me if I didn’t want that to happen. Yeah.
Once a boy opened the door on me in front of the whole class. I told the teacher later what happened but she brushed me off. For some reason I continued to have bathroom doors opened on me. Once when I was 5ish I was at my only friend’s house and his dad opened the door on me by accident and then I heard him making “jokes” about seeing my underwear. I ended up with an extreme fear of public restrooms. I learned how to go the entire day without having to pee at school. Anywhere really cause it seemed the one time I would make an exception the same thing happened like a fucking curse. I went to Disney a couple times and I would be there from like 8am to 8pm and never use the restroom. In kindergarten I nearly peed my pants on the playground because I didn’t want to go into the big kids’ (2nd grd) classroom that was closer. In the 8th grade we were at Disney and I made the mistake of drinking something and I had to go really bad but everytime I tried I just physically couldn’t d it because of the anxiety and eventually I begged my mom and we left early so I could use the bathroom at home. Once in 10th grade I went to a convention and I had to pee sooooooooo bad that I actually went to the restroom and then I was sitting there for 10min actually in tears trying to just fucking pee and I couldn’t because of the anxiety even though I had too so bad. I seriously didn’t get over this until like, a couple years ago but I still have hang-ups about it.
But enough about that…. So my mom tried to home school me for 1st grade which didn’t work so I went back to school in 2nd grd only it was even worse because everybody was friends from last year and I had no one. Sometimes I think I might’ve missed more school than I ever actually attended. It was nearly impossible for my mom to drop me off in the morning. I’d refuse to get out of the car I’d kick and scream and the PE teachers would have to get called to come literally pry me out. I never understood why nobody just let me stay home, fording me to go like that could not have been healthy. Sometimes it took an entire hour, my mom would get me to the guidance counselor’s office where her and the principal would pry me from my mother who’d have to make a quick get away and they’d have to hold me so I wouldn’t run out after her. I spent most of the mornings in guidance crying in the corner, head bowed, refusing to look up for hours, snot dripping down on my knees. Sometimes I threw everything in there I could get my hands on. Other times I’d be in there so long that I’d have to hide my face as my class walked by on their way to lunch. I had a special chart on my desk where I got a sticker every time I had a smooth morning and when I filled it up I got a prize.
Art was absolutely my favorite class. We had it once a week and I loved my teacher. Although one time I cried in that class too because we had to take off our shoe and draw it and I didn’t want to because in kindergarten someone told me I had big feet and it scarred me for the rest of my life. One day we had a sub in art and when we asked where our teacher was she made a joke about him never coming back. I actually spoke up for once, defending the art teacher I loved, and called her a liar. She turned to 7 yr old me and said “You know what I call liars in my house? ‘Sassy!” and immediately everyone started calling me Sassy and I cried so hard I ran into the bathroom and refused to come out. I was so traumatized by the whole I can’t even remember how that ended. That word made me uncomfortable for years.
Adults’ favorite thing to say to and about me was that I was “Being over sensitive.” They used that excuse for everything. In the 3rd grade I was even worse than before. I began acting out at PE because I resented the teachers for separating me from my mom. In class I never ever spoke, I would literally sit at my desk with my textbook propped up so I could hide behind it.I had meltdowns every morning still. The therapist I’d been seeing every week since I was 7 didn’t help at all.
In the 4th grade someone told me I had hairy arms. I wore the same 2 pairs of pants and 3 long sleeve shirts the entire year. I ran laps at PE in August in Florida in long sleeves and pants, I learned to tolerate the heat. In 5th grade I had finally gotten confident enough to wear short sleeves again and during a lecture on bullying a boy that teased me all the time started making fun of a freckle I had on my arm. But that time I raised my hand and told the guest speaker in front of everyone and he was embarrassed and never messed with me again, remember that lesson kids. I had small group of 3 friends which was new, but I never played with them outside of school. One day on the way to music class I heard a boy in front of me say something mean about my friend. I told the teacher and she said to me “Well if she didn’t hear him than it doesn’t matter, let it go.” Another time in the 5th grade boys were making fun of another friend’s name (which she was sensitive about) and I told the teacher about and she said to get over it. This stuff happened a lot and eventually I learned not to trust teachers to do anything about bullying, a lesson that proves to be true to this day if you watch the news at all.
5th grade wasn’t as bad. My morning meltdowns became less frequent, I had besties, went to my first sleep over. I did, however, have a bully who specifically targeted me. She made fun of me so much and I was always in tears over it and the guidance counselor and everyone just said I was being too sensitive. A couple times both of us were sent to guidance for “peer mediation” (what a joke that was). It never changed anything, I had to sit at that table multiple times and listen to her say she was ‘sorry’ with the fakest smile, the guidance counselor would make me forgive her and shake hands. Once I had to listen to her say ‘I don’t know what happened, we used to be friends, why aren’t we friends anymore?’ and no one believed me when I said she was lying. I have never trusted adults and I have always been afraid of authority figures, because nobody ever helped me. And I had a friend who blackmailed me into giving her my jelly bracelets everyday so she wouldn’t tell my crush I liked him, she was nice….
6th grade was literally the best year of my entire school career. My 3 best friends were in class with me, I got in trouble for drawing all the time, Me and my bestie would come to educare late because we had violin club after school and our favorite teacher would save us extra pickles from snack time and we always got to design he monthly board in the cafeteria. I won every single coloring contest. At our first ever dance my crush asked to dance with me (I ran away embarrassed but it’s the thought that counts).
Then I went to middle school. Ha..haha…hahahah
to be continued….