When I was young.
I feel really old for 22. It’s probably because of how I grew up, the experiences I had, and how I proceeded to make just about every horrible choice you can before leaving my teenage years. I didn’t have a lot going for me in high school. I was “that” kid.
Two decades ago being “that” kid meant “that kid who plays D&D who we beat the shit out of”. A decade ago it meant “that kid who listens to Marilyn Manson (or any other “scary” band) who we spread rumors about wanting to blow up the school, so we beat the shit out of him in hopes that one day he will”. I was really quiet growing up, I was the typical shy, A.D.D afflicted and socially retarded kid who used to run from class to class in junior high in hopes that it wouldn’t give anyone a window to beat the shit out of me. Which it didn’t. A few times, I didn’t even get to my first class before someone punched me out and I got suspended because I pushed the person away and that constituted a fight. I was so disliked for doing so little that, by the word of my fellow students, I was almost expelled for making a bomb threat. This was all just the 7th grade. By the 8th grade I was in S.I.P, the Student Intervention Program, which was the last step before expulsion for students who sold/bought drugs, performed sex acts, or had brutally beaten others. I was the youngest person to ever be enrolled into the program, at the reluctance of the school district, who were pressuring my mom to give me up in ways that were not just insulting to her, but to myself as well.
So I sat in the back center of a room and did my homework for 5 weeks. Since I was there for the sole reason that I got the shit kicked out of me too much, I didn’t fit in. The other kids didn’t seem to mind, or at least, they put up with me. None of us were really in a position to create static. By the time I left I started to really enjoy reading, which was something I would learn to do a lot while dealing with the inadequacies of the school district. It would take me a lot longer to trust people and to feel comfortable around authority figures, something I still struggle with today.
I feel lucky in some ways about being in S.I.P. From time to time I would bump into a kid from the program at the mall or at a concert and each time I would see the same person, they looked worse and worse. You could see mental disorders beginning to manifest on them like cold sores. It made for some tough comparisons.
I returned to junior high a week after Christmas break had ended. I remember walking walk to my first hour, a science class, and trying to not draw any attention to myself. I remember looking down at the threshold as I walked in and before I could even look up, I was laughed out of the classroom.
