I think I may be more than a bit paranoid. You see guys, I am the kind of person who cannot really handle criticism. Not WELL anyway. When someone tells me that I have done something wrong(or HALF done it as my mother likes to say)and keeps going on and on about it in front everyone and their GRANDMOTHER(an expression)in my mind I can hear the other students or relatives or my mothers friends saying "You idiot! Stupid!! Why can't you do anything right? What's wrong with you!?"and the moment they make any sound or any slight facial movement I am SURE that they're laughing at me and I go crazy inside. "Shut up shut up shut up shut up!!!" my mind bellows, "Let's see YOU do any better!!!" And I want to run but I can't. At school that would only make it worse. At home that is not an option. It is actually a very good way to get punched in the face. But I feel like a trapped animal while the teacher lectures..my mother yells. It makes me ears ring and my head spin. I feel like I am choking. I just HAVE to get away before I can screw up something ELSE.
excuse me while i (word vomit)
Giving incorrect answers sends me into an internal frenzy. I feel like the lowest scum on the planet. I feel like the entire class is silently mocking my stupidity. I feel like they SHOULD. I deserve it. I can usually control myself, remain silent, and keep the self injury down to hand biting and writing self loathing notes in code. "You idiot. Why did you say that? Why would you SAY that? Stupid. You KNEW that would be wrong. NEVER guess! Guessing is RETARDED!! Only answer when you KNOW! Never EVER guess!!! Fucking twit. Listen, put down your head, and for GOD'S SAKE SHUT your HOWLING screamer!!!". As soon as the bell rings signaling a brief moment of freedom I make a beeline to the nearest secluded area to punch myself in the head and scream into my sleeves. I don't think this is normal...no. I am SURE that this is not normal. I am pretty oblivious, but I know that when the others are wrong they can just smile and make a joke about it. They don't want to rip out their vocal cords and strangle themselves with them.
It does not help that I have teachers that like to make you answer even when you have made it CLEAR that it may just kill you. "Speak up! See? You were right. Now, was THAT so hard?" Yes. The answer is yes. You may feel like you're pulling teeth but I feel like I am at gun point. And I WANT you to pull the trigger. Have you ever wished for an embolism just to get out of an oral presentation? I have. Not because I have stage fright. No, that is not it. For a long, long time I thought that was it. No, it is just more perfectionism. I KNOW that I will leave things out and remember them at the wrong time. I KNOW that I am being graded on eye contact, lack of fidgeting, and PROJECTION. I also know that I cannot do any of those things worth a damn and therefor my project will be WRONG. It will be FLAWED and that just eats me up inside. It devours me whole. I know that the teacher will pick up on this and comment and that it will make me feel AWFUL. I am a broken toy and everyone that did not see it before will see it then.
Changing gears. My school counselor feels that my suspicion that I MAY(I am NOT self diagnosing, it is MERELY a thought!!!)have Asperger's is correct. I think...I cannot really be sure what she thinks but I think that's what she thinks...i think. Initially, it was my boyfriend who got me thinking about that. He was formally diagnosed when he was about eight...but that is unimportant. He decided to inform me that my sensory issues and idiosyncrasies are WAY worse than his when we were sophomores. Wasn't that nice of him? The next year my mother picked up on some issues that I was having and decided to "fix" me by subjecting me to psychiatry. I went for a while and at one point the woman told me that she did not know what to do with me. Her assistant, on the other hand, started asking me strange questions. Did fluorescent lighting bother me, why I never took off my jacket, if certain clothing had textures that felt "wrong", did certain noises bother me, etc. Then came the day when I told dear head-shrinker about my boyfriend. "Oh, he has Asperger's Syndrome", suddenly she seemed interested as opposed to her usual unnerving stare, "he told me once that he thought I did too but...I dunno really." Suddenly she DID know what to do with me and I needed to see another woman who WOULD know. A specialist. Shortly after that visit, my mother never took me again. She said that she did not see an improvement and that it was too costly. I was disappointed. The sessions were finally starting to not suck and I actually felt like maybe I would have an answer for all of the crap that goes on with me. Oh well.
Back to Ms. K. I was asking her about Vocational...something and she informed me that DBF had already asked her about it concerning me. He gets it and feels that I would benefit from it. She did too but you have to have an official diagnosis of SOMETHING or other to get it. Shut down again. No help for those who actually need it in these schools. Parents don't have enough money to have you evaluated? Too bad. Learn to deal. Me? I can't even take my tests in a separate class. No matter that all of the a/c's constant death rattle and the students moving and tapping and whispering wrong answers to one another makes me want to scream. La la, learn to cope. You are weird, but not weird enough for us to take the time to accommodate you for it.
The public school system sucks. But it could be worse. Honestly, I should be thankful. At least my elementary school teachers tolerated me. I am sure you are all familiar with Alex Barton. I honestly hope that, if she hasn't been already, she is sacked and subjected to the same abuse that she inflicted on him. And Alex, I am Nichole and I care about you. You did not deserve that and I hope that this has not caused you any permanent damage. I will end with this: Public schools, on average, suck and Wendy Portillo needs a lobotomy.
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